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Author's Note: Ch.7, one more chapter in Mac's summer vacation adventure. I feel like this is where the story truly begins even though its probably at its halfway point now. I feel I dragged my feet a bit getting here. When I started this story, I knew what I wanted. The chapters leading up to this one were necessary but I think I took a bit longer getting here then I wanted lol. I've been criticized about it in the past and am trying to do better.

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7.

“I’m sorry Mr. Wellington isn’t available right now,” said the annoyingly polite woman on the phone. “I might be able to pencil you in for an interview in four months.”

Four months?

I sighed but didn’t let her hear it. Instead, I pretended to be polite too. “No, that’s all right, my project needs to be done before September. I guess I’m just going to have to find someone else.”

She thanked me for my interest in Wellington, tried offering me their typical student package. Something they apparently gave people like me doing a “school project”. I declined and hung up. Then cursed. The school project angle was Tess’s idea. It had been a pretty good one in theory. It's not like one could call up a place and say “Hey I think Mr. Wellington might be my father, do you think I can talk to him please?”. Defeated, I grunted and tossed my cell on the bed. It was another brick wall. It was also my third strike.

The first strike happened two days ago.

Tess and I tried the direct approach. We took a cab out to Wellington. We managed to get through the front door but not much further. The woman at the front desk had not been so polite in person as she had been on the phone a few minutes ago. Tess tried to press the issue. When the bitch threatened to call security on us, we bolted. I mean who the hell threatens high school students doing a project? Defeated, we headed back to my place then Tess tried calling. She pretended to be one those business magazines, looking to do an interview. It almost worked until the receptionist wanted to call the magazine to confirm a time with her editor. Tess panicked and hung up.

This whole thing was turning into a real comedy of errors.

Flopping back onto my bed, I stared at the ceiling.

It was strange to think that I might be this close to meeting my actual father. It was stranger still that he’d been in this city the whole time and I never knew. It was mind-blowing that he and I had a lot of things in common. He was blonde, he had green eyes, was left handed. I spent the whole rest of the night after Tess and I found him, looking him up on the internet. He and my mother dated for about five months. They were a pretty active celebrity couple for a while. Several news outlets thought they were going to get married. Back then there was no social media to muddle things up. Facebook wasn’t a thing yet and most of the celeb gossip was found in tabloids. Sadly their relationship sizzled right before Mom announced she was pregnant.

I couldn’t help but wonder if that was part of it?

I mean they were both pretty young at the time.

Patrick was still in college, Mom was still a model.

I could only imagine what kind of scandal it might have caused.

Patrick disappeared from the media spotlight after that. He resurfaced about ten years ago when he took over Wellington Pharmaceutical from his ailing father. By then he was a family man. He had a wife and a son my age. She was pretty enough I suppose, not quite up to my mother’s beauty though. I knew of his son too. Jason Wellington was pretty popular on social media these days. Not exactly as notorious as the Hilton sisters in their day but still pretty well known on the club scene. The fact that he was underage though, it was all pretty scandalous.
Patrick became CEO of the company only a year or so ago.

I remember reading about it.

The ringing of my cell distracted my thoughts. I absently reached over and answered it. I didn’t have to look to see who it was. The only people who had my number were my family and Tess. I’d already spoken to Mom this morning. She called every morning since they left and at least two more times during the day. I think she just wanted to make sure I wasn’t burning the place down or something.

“So how did it go?”

I made an annoying buzzer sound.

“That bad huh?”

“At least she was polite about it,” I said with a heavy sigh.

“Don’t give up yet, girl, we’ve got this!”

A few days ago, I would have flinched at being called “girl”. Maybe it was because I was spending so much time talking to her now or maybe it was because I was just starting to accept it? Ever since telling her my secret, Tess and I talked on the phone for hours. She also kept trying to drag me out to go shopping with her. It was all kind of weird though. I told her as much. I mean she had friends, lots of friends. When I told her that, she just scoffed it away and told me I should hang with them too. I wasn’t ready for that yet. Partially because all things ultra feminine kinda scared me but mostly because I didn’t want everyone in the school to know my true gender. I had no problem with Tess knowing but I couldn’t handle it if others found out.

I was already petrified that Lance knew.

I was paranoid about it too.

I kept checking Facebook to see if he blabbed. He didn’t. In fact, he barely had a social media presence. I think Lance was one of the very few teenagers who didn’t. I guess he was too busy filming people.

“So then, what’s our next step?”

“Well we tried the direct approach.”

“And that failed” I added.

She laughed. “So we take the non-direct one.”

“Which is?”

“I’m sending you a car,” she said, I could sense the mischief in her voice. “You and I need to step up our A Game.”

I groaned. I’m not sure I was going to like this.

“Stop fidgeting!”

“Stop trying to poke me in the eye then!”

“I would if you stopped fidgeting!”

Tess stopped trying to apply my eyeliner, long enough to scold me.

I’m not even sure how I let her talk me into this.

When she said we needed to “step up our A Game”, I thought she meant trying a different approach. I was half right but I never expected her different approach to entail this. Tess’s plan was simple. She did a little internet browsing. From various tweets, she discovered that every day---like clockwork---Patrick Wellington had lunch at a tiny bistro on the east side of the city.

So what did that have to do with me wearing eyeliner?

Simple.

The place was pretty upscale.

According to Tess, I never would be able to get through the door looking like a “bum”. Her words, not mine. So after getting off the phone with her earlier, she sent a car. Not a taxi either, an actual rental service car. Color me surprised. It took me directly to her upscale luxury apartment. It was all pretty fancy and modern looking but I’ll be honest, it didn’t really hold a candle to our place. Not that I’m bragging or anything but we did own the whole building. Her place was still nice though and large. I couldn’t believe how spacious it was. As soon as I arrived, she ushered me into her overly girly room and got to work.

De-bumifying me.

Her word.

“I swear, its like you’ve never worn makeup before.”

I didn’t say anything.

My silence spoke for me.

“Oh My God, you haven’t!”

That wasn’t totally a lie. I mean, this isn’t the first time someone has tried to shanghai me into it. Like Mom, Tess seemed to think there was only one kind of girl. Unlike Mom though, Tess wasn’t trying to force me into it. There were different kinds of girls out there after all. All kinds. I was just going to be the one who felt she didn’t need to wear makeup to breathe right. I was happy being the natural looking tomboyish girl.

I told Tess as much.

“Look, I’m not going to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do but every once in a while, even the Tomboy wants to look pretty.”

I didn’t have an answer for that.

Sighing, I admitted my defeat.

Tess continued her work. She told me what she was doing every step of the way. From the eyeshadow and eyeliner and everything in-between. She said she wanted to make me feel comfortable and didn’t want to do anything that was too over the top. It took longer than I thought. Apparently being beautiful is a long and arduous process. When she was finally done, I was stunned. The girl in the mirror was so far from me it was scary. Not a bad scary either. It was like waking up for the first time and seeing a sunset. Its something so serene and indescribable that all you could do was gap and stare and smile.

“I take it that’s a good thing then?”

She was Me.

I was Her.

I didn’t respond to Tess, instead, I leaned forward to get a better look. There was color on my cheeks, my lips were shiny and looked moist. Kissable even. My eyes though, they popped. I’m not really sure what she did to make them look like but I was in love. My lashes looked longer and the dark liner combined with the lightest bit of purple shadow. I was mesmerized.

“I could leave you alone with the mirror for a little longer but time is a factor here.”

She giggled.

She then grabbed my hand and gently pulled me away.

After the fabulous makeup job, I trusted her completely. On the ride over, she texted me about my measurements. The only reason I remembered them was because of the shopping trips with Mom over the last week or so. When I arrived there were already a few shopping bags in her room. I recognized the logo. I also saw the Forever21 on the way there. It was practically around the corner from her. She must have done some quick shopping while I was on my way.

“I respected your no skirt rule,” she said as she gently sat me on the bed.

Then the Dressing Began.

Tess had good taste.

She also listened to what I wanted.

Not like at all like my mother.

In the end, we decided on something pretty simple: a pair of white shorts, an off the shoulder light blue peasant top and a pair of wedged sandals. The shorts were a bit tighter than I wanted and I had to swap my usual boy cuts for something a little more practical but other than that, I liked them. They weren’t constricting toward my condition either. Most of the time I couldn’t wear tight things because of how it looked down there. These shorts were very flattering though.

“Wear this belt and this,” she said, handing me a belt and what looked like a necklace.

I put the belt on without question but the necklace, it was a little girly for me.

I didn’t dislike jewelry---I had a nose piercing after all---it was just something I didn’t go out of my way to wear. Partially because I spent most of my time in guy mode but also because my mother liked to go overboard with that too. I had a large collection of expensive and unworn jewelry back at home. My mother had a bit of a Shopaholic problem. It wasn’t just the clothes either. She went crazy for the accessories too. Whenever she saw something she just “loved” she had to have it for me. It made me feel like her real-life Barbie Doll sometimes. I knew she meant well in her own way but it pissed me off that she didn’t think I could dress myself.

“You sure about this?” I asked, still holding the necklace.

It was a covered in little flowers, definitely not me.

“It goes with the top!”

Tess was way too enthusiastic about it.

Groaning, I put it on.

“It has some matching earrings too!”

“No,” I said, pushing her hands down as she showed me them. I sighed. “I appreciate it but I’m not your doll.”

There I said it.

Now if I could only say it to Mom.

Tess frowned but nodded.

“Sorry, I get a little carried away some times” She took a deep breath. “I’m used to having willing victims.”

She did her best impression of a Mad Scientist laugh.

I smirked.

Then I sat on the edge of her bed to put on the sandals. They added an inch or two to my height. When I stood up, Tess made a disgusted noise.

I rolled my eyes.

“I hate you!” she said, staring up at me. “Tall, beautiful and thin.”

I strutted the room a bit, getting a feel for the difference. I’d worn heels before. Walking in them was easy. These sandals weren’t all that different. I just didn’t wear heels often because I hated feeling taller than I already was. Whereas most people had no problem being tall, as a girl who was five ten, a few added inches really made you stand out. I felt like a freak sometimes. I also hated the attention. Last summer on vacation, Mom wanted me to try wearing heels to dinner and the whole time everyone kept staring at me. I wanted to crawl back into our cabin and never come out. After dinner, I actually threw the damn things overboard when she wasn’t looking.

“I feel like a freak in these.”

“Trust me, honey, there is nothing freakish about you.”

We shared a laugh.

Tess scrutinized me a bit after that. She walked around me then made me twirl like an idiot.

“You need a bag!” she exclaimed a minute or so later.

She quickly started rummaging in her closet.

She had one of those massive walk-ins you would expect a girl like her to have. Just peeking inside, I could see loads of clothes. More than I’d ever seen in my life. Not just clothes either but shoes and everything else in-between. I wandered away and started glancing around her room, trying to preoccupy myself for a minute or two as she looked for the perfect bag for me. Like I said, she had an overly girly room. Light pink decor, a large queen size bed, tasteful bedding, lots of pillows. Her shelves were littered with cheer and scholastic trophies, her walls decorated with framed awards and posters of cute boys. I noticed quite a few famous male celebs, including current It Boy, Gavin Reese.

“Got it!”

She came out of the closet, literally, carrying a little white clutch.

“This is totes, you girl!”

I rolled my eyes.

Help me now.

The upscale bistro was a few blocks from Tess’s. I tried to talk her into walking but she insisted on ordering another car. It was clear to me that she was a pretty lazy girl. As much time as I spent taking taxis or on the bus, I spent more time walking. Especially if my destination wasn’t too far from home. I liked walking the city, seeing the sights. In a city this large, there was always something new and exciting to see. I was also a pretty active person. Tess it would seem, was like most. It didn’t matter if she could walk there or not, she just threw money at it and cheapened the experience.

Pulling up in front of the place, I sighed.

It was one of those places.

Tinted windows with drawn curtains, little tables out front that no one used. The bistro's name was stenciled around the front in fancy gold script, Pierre's. The place screamed rich to me. It was the kind of place I usually avoided to be honest. My parents usually did too.

“Looks nice,” said Tess as the driver opened the door for us.

She climbed out first, I quickly followed.

Both of us out the same door.

I got a weird look and a slight smile from the man.

Why would I make him do more work?

“We won’t be long, Charlie.”

“Yes, Miss Theresa.”

We left the driver and his car.

Once again, someone opened the door for us. He gave us both a curt nod but a strange look.

Stepping inside, I scanned the tables.

Everyone here was dressed like they had money. I felt a little underdressed to be honest. It was one of those places that businessmen ate lunch at too I noticed. It was all men too, most sitting together at tables designed for two. Not a single one of them were dressed casually like us. It made me feel very underdressed actually. Tess either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She acted like she belonged there. I tried to mimic her but I felt a bit awkward.

A moment later, we were approached by a matri de.

A tall man, dressed like the rest but with slicked-back hair and a thin mustache.

He stared at us strangely too.

It suddenly occurred to me that we were, in fact, the only two women present.

“Good afternoon, ladies, my name is Pierre. How may I assist you?” he said in a crisp, slightly accented voice.

Pierre, did that mean he owned the place, too?

“We were wondering if you could point us in the direction of Patrick Wellington.”

Pierre stared at us.

It was the calculating stare of a man who knew his job. I could read him like a book. There was no way that he was going to lead us to Mr. Wellington. This was the kind of place with high end clientele who valued their privacy. I looked past him at all the fancy tables and their fancy people. There was a bar off to one side, a swinging door to the kitchen and a staircase. In front of which was a roped off sign that said, PRIVATE. Clearly, if Patrick Wellington was anywhere it was up there in the private area.

Biting my lip, I put on my greatest performance.

“Pietro,” I said, mimicking a Valley girl and getting his name wrong on purpose. “So like do you want to tell him that his son knocked me up or do you like want me to shout it out right here?”

The look on Pierre’s face was priceless.

I actually thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head.

“Because” I said, raising my, voice. “I can like be really loud if I need too.”

My tiny outburst caught the attention of the men at a nearby table.

Pierre turned a shade of white.

“That won’t be necessary, Mademoiselle.”

He snapped his fingers. Immediately, a young waiter rushed to our side.

“Henry, please inform Mr. Wellington that he has a guest.”

The waiter---Henry---quickly rushed off.

Pierre turned To Tess. “If Mademoiselle would like, I can offer you a table while you wait for your friend?”

“She would like.”

He snapped his fingers again and another young waiter appeared.

“David, this young lady would like a table.”

He was tall and handsome, I saw Tess smile.

“Right this way please, Miss.”

He crooked his arm, she slipped her’s through and he slowly led her to a table. Tess started to flirt as they walked off. I could hear the giggles.

She worked fast.

I watched her for a few then snapped around when Henry returned. He was cute and young too but I was too focused to give him too much attention.

“Mr. Wellington is waiting.”

He tried to get me to take his arm but I ignored him. Giving me a strange look, he started toward the private stairs instead. I followed close on his heels. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, removing the rope and nodding. I thanked him then slowly made my way up. My heart was pounding a mile a minute. This was it, this was potentially the moment of truth time for me. I’d given it a lot of thought and I knew what I wanted. What I needed. If this man was my father, I just wanted the truth. I didn’t want him to acknowledge my existence or give me any money. I just wanted him to know that I was here and that if he wanted, I’d be willing to have a relationship with him.

Reaching the top of the tiny flight of stairs, I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

I looked around.

The private dining area was just as fancy as the one below. Unlike the one below though, the light here was all natural. There were large windows that took up the whole left wall. I could see a great view of the city street beyond. I think they were one-way glass though. Pretty swanky. Also very private. Looking away from the windows, I noticed the small bar area, a couple of tables and the lone patron.

Patrick Wellington.

The man of the hour.

I stepped forward and stopped suddenly when a large man stepped in front of me. Gray suit, shaved head, dark glasses. Private security. Like Jax but unlike Jax, this one was packing. I saw the bulge on his left side. No doubt military trained, the man studied me with searching eyes behind those shades.

“Its all right Frank”.

The man stepped aside.

He was big but I would have put up a hell of a fight.

I handed him my little clutch.

“Beware the lip gloss, its grape,” I deadpanned.

I saw a slight twitch at the corners of his mouth, a possible smile.

Other than that, Frank made no move to check my bag.

I looked from him to my target.

Patrick was fortyish, his blonde hair slicked back, his suit very expensive. He looked like he belonged in this place. Unlike the patrons below though, he had a bemused look as I approached the table.

“Before you begin,” he said, still slightly bemused. “My son Jason is in Cabo with his friends and his last girlfriend left him two months ago. She wasn’t you.”

Wow, busted that quick.

“If you knew all that then why agree to see me?”

“Because any young woman who was desperate enough to make up a lie like that, she probably has a very pressing reason to see me,” he said with a smile. “Miss...”

“Hodge,” I said, dropping into the seat across from him.

The bemused look disappeared.

“Mackenzie?” he asked, surprised.

So he knew me.

That surprised me.

Not as surprised as he was though apparently.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting this,” he said, loosening his tie a bit. “The last time I saw you, you were really little.”

I nodded. “I can’t say I ever remember meeting you.”

“It was a long time ago.”

Interesting.

“So what can I do for Carrie’s lovely daughter?”

No one called Mom that anymore, not even her own folks. It told me that the two of them had some kind of close, intimate relationship.

“You call Mom, Carrie?”

He smiled. “Your mother and I have been friends for a long time. Nearly twenty years now. You could almost say she’s my best friend. We try to have lunch almost every month you know.”

It hit me then.

Patty.

I felt like an idiot.

Mom’s friend from college.

Oh my God.

Patty was Patrick Wellington.

“You’re Patty?” I said, shocked.

He laughed. “Is your mother still calling me that!”

Carrie, Patty?

What was going on here?

Was Mom having an affair?

Patrick stopped laughing as soon as he saw my look. He was a sharp man, the wheels in his head turned just as fast as mine.

“Wait, no, you don’t think your mother and I...” He composed himself before he spoke again. "I admit to a relationship but that was a long time ago. Your mother is happily married.”

“And you’re not?”

“I didn’t say that but it's complicated.”

Complicated?

It hit me like a ton of bricks. How could I have been an idiot?

There were no women here, all the wait staff were young and attractive men. The private dining area, the one-way windows.

This was a gay restaurant.

This was a place where rich, white in-the-closet men could go and be private about said life. Downstairs, I realized that none of the men were actually alone. The tables were all set for two. The interior while expensive was also very feminine and lavish, far too lavish for a gentlemen’s only club like I originally would have guessed. It's also the reason why I kept getting strange looks. That both Tess and I were getting strange looks. I wonder if Tess knew and if she didn’t, should I tell her?

I leaned forward and lowered my voice, “You’re gay?”

I said it barely above a whisper.

“Its not common knowledge, I’d ask for discretion on your part.”

“Does my mother know?”

He nodded. “She does.”

“You’re married though!”

“Happily but it's for show, an arrangement made years ago. My father didn’t like the idea of his gay son ruining his company so measures were put in place. Gloria my wife is well compensated for her time. Before you ask, yes Jason is my son. One of the many agreements. We just never had sex to conceive him. He’s the heir the company needed and it satisfies my father.”

“Does he know?”

“My son, yes.”

Wow.

Of all the things, I never expected this.

“When you and Mom dated?”

He nodded. “I’ve known for quite some years actually. I was a teenager. I tried to hide in school but when I got to college, I started to experiment. Your mother was a good friend I met one summer in Starlight Cove when I was younger. We kept in touch. Its where the name Patty came from actually. When we got older, she agreed to be my Beard for the public. We “dated” for some time. We broke it off when she discovered she was pregnant, neither one of us wanted the scandal.”

Wait then that meant…

“You’re not him then,” I said, sadly.

“Not him?” Patrick’s eyes widened a second after he said it. “That’s why you’re here...you thought...”

I nodded, teary-eyed.

He reached forward and grabbed my hand gently. “Honey, I wish I was, I really do. I even wanted to be. I told your mother that I would take responsibility if she wanted but she refused. She didn’t want to do that to me. Of course, it didn’t stop the press from speculating. We did the whole paternity test thing and everything just to prove I wasn’t.”

I nodded, numbly.

Shit.

All of this for nothing.

I started to stand up, pulling my hand quickly from Patrick’s.

“I’m sorry that I wasted your time then” I said quickly, the tears freely flowing.

I’m such an idiot.

I made a mad dash for the stairs. Frank didn’t try to stop me. Patrick did though. He was fast, faster than I would have given him credit.

“Sweetheart, wait,” he said, grabbing my arm gently.

He spun me to face him, then pulled me into a hug.

It was surprisingly intimate.

He held me until the tears went away.

As soon as I felt I was done crying, I gently pushed from his embrace. He didn’t let me go though, he held my shoulders gently.

“I may not be your father but it doesn’t mean I don’t care,” he said, smiling. “Clearly you came here looking for answers and what kind of BFF would I be if I didn’t have any.”

He led me over to the closest table, pulled the chair out for me.

I sat.

"Your mother and I weren’t exclusive,” he said, sitting across from me. “She was a bit of a free spirit back then. Our relationship wasn’t real so she had quite a few others. Always with protection though, she was a careful girl. She was burnt out though. The job and the life was starting to get to her. So I suggested she take some time off, relax. She agreed and went back home. To Starlight Cove. It was right before Thanksgiving, November, nine months before you were born...”

Patrick was painting a picture for me.

He wanted me to fill in the blank spots.

It didn’t take me long.

“So,” I said, connecting things. “If I was looking for answers...”

He smiled. “Bright girl.”

If Patrick wasn’t my father, it meant there was someone else. Someone that Mom didn’t talk about, take photos with or even tell her best friend about. He had to be someone close to her though, someone she was willing to have sex with and not care about protection? He also had to be someone at home, her home.

Wow.

Mom and I hadn’t been there in years. It was Mom’s hometown but she left when she was seventeen for reality show stardom. After I was born, Mom straightened out her life but her parents weren’t as forgiving. They were happy that she was finally starting to fix her life but they remembered all the horrible things she put them through to get there. My grandparents never visited. I got cards at the holidays and on my Birthdays but they never came to see us. Mom and I went down there one summer though, alone. I was five. I barely remember the visit. I just remember the end of it when Mom got into a big argument with someone.

I always thought it was Grandpa.

Because it was a man...

Could it have been…

Like a light bulb, I knew what I had to do.

I smiled.

“Thank you, Patty,” I said happily, giving the man a big hug.

“Any time sweetie.”

He stood with me, giving me a hug again.

"We should do lunch, the three of us. Sometime before school starts?"

I smiled. "I'd like that."

He may not have been my father but he cared like one. I could see why my mother was friends with him.

I thanked him then quickly left the room, nodding to Frank as I did so. At the bottom of the stairs, Henry smiled. I smiled back. Tess was finishing up her light meal when I approached the table. She gave me a hopeful look but I shook my head.

“He’s not?”

“Nope,” I said with a happy sigh.

“Why are you so happy then?”

“Because I know where to look now!”

Starlight Cove.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF