After all, she’d been there when the research team made the discovery. They were working on the episode featuring Scott Anders, beloved rom-com hero, sometime action star, and poster boy for Hollywood political activism. He was so outspoken about human rights, he made Angelina Jolie look apathetic. So what a surprise for the Celebrity Family Tree team to discover that an ancestor of his had been one of the most notorious slave traders in the South.
Rachel wasn’t completely sure what happened next, but when the episode was edited, somehow that fun little factoid didn’t make the final cut. And someone on staff must have been pissed, because it was leaked to the press. That Scott Anders was descended from slave traders didn’t get a lot of play, because you can’t help the family you’re born into. But you can help what you do in the here and now, and Scott Anders had leaned on the producers hard to make them bury the discovery. The whole selling point of the show was that the viewer was “with” the celebrities when they learned about their heritage. The veracity of the entire program came into question; Scott Anders denied accusations that he’d asked executives to suppress the truth about his ancestors, throwing Celebrity Family Tree under the proverbial bus. And the network pulled the plug.
“But Judy,” Rachel said, “if you can still try to find me any leads on my father, it would mean the world to me.”
For as long as she could remember, Rachel had ached to learn the identity of her father. All her mother knew was that he was a white male in his twenties. She chose him as her sperm donor because he’d written that he liked to travel.
Rachel used the show’s resources to do a little digging. She didn’t have his name, but she’d had her DNA tested and found out that she was half Southern European and half Eastern European. Since her mother was an Ashkenazi Jew, that left her father as the Southern European. Even better, Genie, the DNA-testing company, reported that another user in its database was a 50 percent genetic match to her. A half sibling! And through the company, she was able to e-mail her.
For the first time, she had more family than just her self-absorbed mother.
But a week after sending the e-mail through Genie, she still had not heard back from Marin Bishop of New York, New York.
Maybe the e-mail got dumped in her half sister’s spam folder. Her half sister. She could scarcely get her mind around it. Yes, that had to be it—foiled by the spam folder.
Rachel would try her again. She’d find a way to e-mail her directly. If there was anything she’d learned from her two months in research, it was how to be persistent in reaching out to a source. And this woman, this half sister, was a source of the most valuable information she could imagine. Rachel had to believe that she belonged somewhere, and she’d certainly never felt it with her mother. But maybe when she found her father and her sister, all the puzzle pieces would fit together and she’d feel whole for the first time in her life.
“That’s another reason I’m calling you,” Judy said. “I didn’t have time to talk to you about this at the office with everything that’s going on. But I found it. I have your father’s name.”
Chapter Five
Divorce! Marin hadn’t seen it coming.
Sitting at her desk where she was usually the picture of organization and control, she was unglued by her father’s words—long overdue and a new phase of life. New phase of life? Her father didn’t speak like that. And so she asked him, “Is there someone else?” His response: “Yes.” The second blow.
She stared blankly at her computer screen.
How could this be happening? She’d gone home to Philly two months ago for her mother’s birthday. Her parents had appeared the same as always. There wasn’t a single sign anything was wrong, and now they were divorcing and her father was in a new relationship? Then again, she’d brought Greg with her that weekend. So much for appearances.
She was going to lose it if she didn’t talk to someone, and the someone she most wanted to talk to was just one floor above her.
It was wrong, and she hated herself for her weakness, but she needed him.
She abandoned her desk and headed for the elevators.
Julian’s secretary was not at her desk and his door was closed. Marin knocked once and opened it. All she wanted was to see his face.
When she saw it, he had a deer-in-the-headlights look. Senior partner Hilton Wallace was sitting across from him.
Hilton Wallace had probably once been an attractive man. But in his midfifties, he had the generic appearance of bloated affluence. Golf and tennis on the weekends couldn’t combat the decades of long hours behind a desk. He had steely blue eyes and the deepest crow’s-feet Marin had ever seen, lines that appeared to have been carved into his face rather than slowly worn in over time. And at the moment, they gave his face a particularly stern look.
“Hello, Marin. Surprised to see you in this neck of the woods,” Hilton said, leaning back in his chair, looking at her pointedly.
“Sorry to interrupt! I just…there are a few Genie documents that aren’t in that file box you sent down. Dina isn’t at her desk or I would have asked her—”
“I’ll have her check the document list when she returns,” Julian said curtly.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. She backed out of the office and retreated to her own.
Closing her own door and leaning against it, she decided to do what she should have done in the first place: call her mother. She got her voice mail and left a message saying she was going to come home on Saturday.
Until then, Marin had to put it out of her mind. Yes, her parents were splitting up. Deal with it—you’re a grown woman.
Marin opened her e-mail.
She scrolled through her messages, one in particular catching her eye. It was from a name she didn’t recognize, the subject line: Please Read.
Hi, Marin:
I tried reaching you through Genie, but when I didn’t hear back I figured I might have gotten dumped in your spam folder so I thought I’d e-mail you directly. I hope you don’t mind.
I recently did a DNA test through Genie and I got a notice from them that I have a very close relative in their database. You! So close that you’re either my grandparent or my half sibling. I’m guessing from your profile you’re not my grandmother (LOL). I know this probably comes as a shock to you—it was for me, even though I always knew it was a possibility since I have a single mom and my father was a sperm donor. Maybe you’re in a similar situation? Either way, I’d love to hear from you. Number’s below. Call any time.
Rachel Moscowitz
Marin blinked at the screen.
What. The. Fuck.
She hadn’t heard a thing from Genie since mailing in her test kit. She’d practically forgotten about it.
Holding her breath, she opened a browser and logged in to her personal e-mail account. Sure enough, more than half a dozen e-mails from Genie hovered near the top, sandwiched between the entreaties from Equinox to rejoin and sales alerts from Barneys and Bergdorf’s.
Your Kit Has Been Registered.
Your Sample Has Been Received.
Your Complete Genie Ancestry Reports Are Ready to View.