Page 13 of Last Minute

“You’re going to need another suitcase for your flight home,” I tell Ellie as we walk out of Target. Her arms are loaded with white and red bags, and although I offered to carry some of them for her, she refused.

“That’s a problem I’ll worry about later.” I open the trunk of my car, and she deposits the bags gently, like they’re her most valuable treasures. And the way she was speaking inside the store, they very well might be.

I have no idea what it was like to grow up in her household. Having people there to help you do everything, never having to do the mundane tasks yourself. It seems like the complete opposite of my childhood, where Mom relied on me heavily to get everything done around the house because both she and Dad worked to make ends meet.

So while my idea of a vacation is to take a break from all of the minutiae of daily life, it sounds like hers is the opposite: experiencing the mundane, the things she’s taken for granted her whole life.

As I observe Ellie while she places her newly purchased goods in my car, I can’t help but think that she isn’t the kind of person who takes things for granted. She always seems so generous and genuine. But she does seem like the kind of person who wants to experience everything and do it with a smile on her face.

After closing the trunk, she skips to the passenger door before I can get there to open it. She breathes in deeply as she places her hand on the handle and laughs when she pulls the door open. The pure joy on her face fills me with warmth and secondhand happiness.

I get in and start the car, pulling up the GPS. “Where to next?” I keep my voice neutral and professional, even though I’m more than happy to chauffeur her anywhere if it keeps that happiness on her face.

Ellie pulls out her phone and opens her notes app. “I made a list last night.” She doesn’t have to tell me it was after she fell on top of me and explored my torso with her hands. I can see it in how her cheeks darken more than a few shades.

As she scrolls down her list, my phone, connected to my car’s bluetooth, rings. Ellie looks up at the name flashing across the console screen: Shannon Donovan.

Mom couldn’t have picked a worse moment to call.

“You can take that if you need to. I don’t mind,” Ellie says, her head down and focused on her phone.

If I knew she wasn’t going to talk about her wedding this weekend, I wouldn’t be afraid to answer. But the questions that turning down that invitation in front of Ellie would bring up are questions I’d rather not answer. I hesitate a moment longer and the call ends. I don’t even get a new notification about her leaving a voicemail.

Ellie decides on her next vacation stop—a movie theater—and I input it into the navigation system. As we pull out of the Target parking lot, my phone rings again, covering the GPS. The same name flashes on screen.

“I really don’t mind,” Ellie says quietly, peeking at me from the corner of her eye. “I can put in my earbuds if it would make you feel better.” She rummages around her small cross body bag and pulls out a small white case.

Resigning myself to this conversation, I shake my head. “No need.” And I hit the answer button on the steering wheel.

“Hello, Erik,” Mom’s voice comes through the car’s speakers.

“Hi, Mom.” Ellie’s eyes flash to me.

“I wasn’t expecting to be able to reach you. I thought you had an assignment in Germany.” Her voice is cold, irritation lacing every word.

After spending five years in law enforcement, I know nothing good can come from lying, so I tell my mom the truth.

“The assignment in Germany fell through. But I am still on assignment.” I look toward Ellie, and she offers me an encouraging smile.

“But you’re in the States?” The ice in Mom’s voice melts, belying her hope, and I immediately regret my truth. “Is there any way you can get one of your coworkers to cover for you this weekend? You know how much it would mean to me and Jamsion if you were there.”

“It’s not really that kind of assignment, Mom.”

“But do you know what it will look like if my only son doesn’t show?” Irritation creeps back into her voice. “I will look the fool and Janine Summers will never let me hear the end of it.”

“Mom, I don’t care what it will look like. I’m not coming. I can’t leave my client.”

“Then bring your client with you!”

I look at Ellie, who only shrugs.

“Mom, I can’t ask that of her.” I grip the steering wheel tighter as annoyance creeps into my voice. After so many years of distancing herself from me and Dad, I don’t know why she’s so adamant about me coming to her wedding now.

“But I can. It sounds like you’re in the car. Is she there with you?”

I look at Ellie, who seems more amused than irritated by my mom’s pushiness. For all I know, she’s used to this sort of behavior dealing with other royals, nobles, and entitled people. Sensing that I’m not getting anywhere with my mom, I gesture for Ellie to speak.

“I’m here, Mrs. Donovan,” she says politely. I cringe, perfectly picturing the eye roll Mom would be giving right now if we had been talking in person.

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