and reading through them opens me up to a world I ever knew existed. “What is this?” I ask, my tone quiet and unsure.
“He did care,” Elle’s words and her eyes exude care and concern.
“But this can’t be– no, I don’t– he didn’t…” Pausing, I find myself fumbling over my own words, completely incapable of dealing with this revelation.
“Well, he cared enough to set you up with a college fund to pay for all four years. It’s possible that he loved you, but just didn’t know how to show it in the right way. Maybe you should talk to your mom about it. She might be able to tell you more, but that’s what we were talking about before you came downstairs. She knew you’d be mad. Are you?”
Another blip of silence falls around us as I take stock of my emotions. Am I mad? The reality is I’ve spent my entire teenage and young adult existence being pissed off at a man I never knew. It’s not all over and done with. I don’t think I can ever fully forgive him, but knowing that he at least felt like he owed me and Mom something helps to make up for it a little.
“No, I don’t think I am. I’ll have to get to the bottom of the whole thing, but that’s between me and my mom.” As I finish my words, I realize her hand is still on my arm, which brings me around to my line of questioning.
“So what was going on with you and Robertson?” Just saying his name makes my blood boil. My fist clenches at my side, relaxing only when Elle places her small hand on top of it.
“Well– uh…” she stammers, chewing on her tongue rather than spitting out an explanation.
“Let me guess. You only have a thing for clean-cut, prim and proper businessmen. And now that you know who I really am, you’re here to make nice, right?” Cynicism and sarcasm drip from my words.
“What?” she gasps a high-pitched defense. “No! Not at all.” Her eyes beg me to believe her, and even though I might not want to, I have to. There’s an unparalleled honesty brewing in those mocha irises that I can’t deny.
“Then please explain it to me, because when I saw him pick you up, you two looked chummy. Then we were out dancing and we looked pretty chummy. The next thing I know, he’s slapping you around. I don’t get it, Elle.”
“I was trying to pull one over on you,” she confesses, surprising the shit out of me. When the look on my face morphs into the I-don’t-quite-understand one, she continues, “Vincent had plans for the estate. He wanted to turn it into a wedding venue. I knew that there was bad blood between the two of you, so I went ahead and pitched the idea to Mr. Robertson and his partners in the hopes they’d invest. I wanted to do it all without you. There’s this part of me that needs to prove I’m good at what I do.” She pauses, letting out a puff of a laugh. “So much for that I guess. He was only interested in taking advantage of me.” Hanging her head in her hands, she won’t even look at me.
“Hey,” I angle my head so that she can see me in her periphery, “listen to me.” I tip her chin so she faces me. Our eyes lock, which is just what I need for her not only to hear, but feel the next thing I have to say. “You did nothing wrong. He was an asshole for even thinking he had a right to touch you.”
Silently, she nods, turning her head away so I can’t see the tear streaking down her cheek. “Come here.” Pulling her into my arms, I inhale the sweet, lingering smell of her shampoo. “I think we both need to just start over. How does that sound?”
She peeks up at me, uncertainty in her eyes. “I was terrible to you and you saved me, and now you’re offering me a do-over?”
“If you’ll take it.” I look down at her, hoping for the best. The guilt over feeling like I could seduce her out of the company rest heavily on my conscience.
A cheery smile graces her beautiful face. Extending her hand, she shakes mine in a firm grip. “Deal,” she confirms as I chuckle at
“He did care,” Elle’s words and her eyes exude care and concern.
“But this can’t be– no, I don’t– he didn’t…” Pausing, I find myself fumbling over my own words, completely incapable of dealing with this revelation.
“Well, he cared enough to set you up with a college fund to pay for all four years. It’s possible that he loved you, but just didn’t know how to show it in the right way. Maybe you should talk to your mom about it. She might be able to tell you more, but that’s what we were talking about before you came downstairs. She knew you’d be mad. Are you?”
Another blip of silence falls around us as I take stock of my emotions. Am I mad? The reality is I’ve spent my entire teenage and young adult existence being pissed off at a man I never knew. It’s not all over and done with. I don’t think I can ever fully forgive him, but knowing that he at least felt like he owed me and Mom something helps to make up for it a little.
“No, I don’t think I am. I’ll have to get to the bottom of the whole thing, but that’s between me and my mom.” As I finish my words, I realize her hand is still on my arm, which brings me around to my line of questioning.
“So what was going on with you and Robertson?” Just saying his name makes my blood boil. My fist clenches at my side, relaxing only when Elle places her small hand on top of it.
“Well– uh…” she stammers, chewing on her tongue rather than spitting out an explanation.
“Let me guess. You only have a thing for clean-cut, prim and proper businessmen. And now that you know who I really am, you’re here to make nice, right?” Cynicism and sarcasm drip from my words.
“What?” she gasps a high-pitched defense. “No! Not at all.” Her eyes beg me to believe her, and even though I might not want to, I have to. There’s an unparalleled honesty brewing in those mocha irises that I can’t deny.
“Then please explain it to me, because when I saw him pick you up, you two looked chummy. Then we were out dancing and we looked pretty chummy. The next thing I know, he’s slapping you around. I don’t get it, Elle.”
“I was trying to pull one over on you,” she confesses, surprising the shit out of me. When the look on my face morphs into the I-don’t-quite-understand one, she continues, “Vincent had plans for the estate. He wanted to turn it into a wedding venue. I knew that there was bad blood between the two of you, so I went ahead and pitched the idea to Mr. Robertson and his partners in the hopes they’d invest. I wanted to do it all without you. There’s this part of me that needs to prove I’m good at what I do.” She pauses, letting out a puff of a laugh. “So much for that I guess. He was only interested in taking advantage of me.” Hanging her head in her hands, she won’t even look at me.
“Hey,” I angle my head so that she can see me in her periphery, “listen to me.” I tip her chin so she faces me. Our eyes lock, which is just what I need for her not only to hear, but feel the next thing I have to say. “You did nothing wrong. He was an asshole for even thinking he had a right to touch you.”
Silently, she nods, turning her head away so I can’t see the tear streaking down her cheek. “Come here.” Pulling her into my arms, I inhale the sweet, lingering smell of her shampoo. “I think we both need to just start over. How does that sound?”
She peeks up at me, uncertainty in her eyes. “I was terrible to you and you saved me, and now you’re offering me a do-over?”
“If you’ll take it.” I look down at her, hoping for the best. The guilt over feeling like I could seduce her out of the company rest heavily on my conscience.
A cheery smile graces her beautiful face. Extending her hand, she shakes mine in a firm grip. “Deal,” she confirms as I chuckle at
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