Page 128 of Finding Our Reality

Waiting for the elevator, I stare out the window, watching the bright August sun sink lower in the sky. Heat rises from the black asphalt, dissecting the air in wavy, invisible lines.

“I was hoping I would get to see you before you left.”

Spinning around, I prop myself against the window ledge. “Hi, Phillip. I was actually gonna stop by your office on my way out. What brings you up to this floor?”

He’s wearing scrubs and his white coat. After all these years, he’s still attractive. And still a good actor. His emotions are strategically hidden underneath a fake smile, expensive hair gel, and a spray tan. “Like I said, I wanted to see you.” Walking over,he leans next to me. “You’ve been in town for over seven months now, and I’ve barely seen you.”

“Work keeps me busy.”

“That crime helper thing?” He waves a hand in the air and chuckles, indicating he can’t believe my career consists of such fodder.

Asshole.

“It’s a little more complicated than that, Phillip.”

“You could have been a great architect, Ella. Your father always displayed the drawings you did—buildings, houses. You had great attention to detail.”

He did not. Not once did I ever walk into my father’s office and see anything that me or Carrie made. No painted handprints, no stick-figure family drawings, no coloring book masterpieces. The only thing he had in his office were professionally painted family portraits where we looked like little glass dolls.

“Well, that wasn’t for me.” I shrug. “Sometimes parents have to let their children carve their own paths in life.”

“You used to be such a good girl, always going along with whatever your parents asked of you. So polite and charming. I always told Kristie she should be more like you.” He shakes his head. “I must say I’m still shocked that Robert and Susan let you marry that Plott boy at such a young age.” He turns to me, giving me a once over. “I still say there’s more to that story. Your parents refused to talk about it.” He winks. “Care to share? I mean, we are old friends here.”

His gaze lingers on my face for a couple of seconds too long. It weirds me out, makes me feel like cockroaches are sprinting across my spine.

I stare back at him, refusing to look away. “I think I’ve done enough traveling down memory lane today.”

“Ahh, yes. Speaking of, how did your meetings go? Attorneys, financial advisors. I heard you were meeting with them all.”

“I did. There’s a couple of more documents to finalize, and then the estate will be closed.”

His jaw clenches. “So, you reviewed my offer then?”

I take a deep breath. “I did. It was a very generous offer, Phillip.”

He stands straight, crossing his arms over his chest. “But?”

“But… that would give you majority control over the practice and the building. I don’t think that’s the best decision for the longevity of the business. Dr. Bussman has done a remarkable job since taking over for Dad. Y’all all decided that she was the best fit for the practice. Sure, at the time, it was a temporary move, but everyone had to assume that it would become permanent if things went well. I’ve done my research on her; I’ve met with some of her patients and the staff, including all of the staff that stayed with the practice after Dad’s death. Everyone loves her. She’s competent, engaging, and passionate about what she does. Her children are still young, and she’s looking to build a life here, in this town. I’ve decided to sell to her.”

He already knew what I was going to say, but he definitely doesn’t like it. His eyes grow cold and blank. He cocks his head to the side, popping his neck. “Well, you can’t do anything without the approval of the other partners.”

I lift my chin in the air. “Seriously, Phillip, you really wanna stonewall this? Why?”

He doesn’t answer.

Gathering my bags, I press the button for the elevator again. “It’s a moot point anyway, the others have already consented.” Well, not our pharmacist. But I don’t tell that to Phillip. “The paperwork will be finalized next week. You can expect something on your desk by next Friday. I told Dr. Bussman wecan make it public and celebrate at the Annual Appreciation Gala next month.”

The elevator doors start to close, but I suddenly remember why I needed to talk to him. I slap my hand against the closing metal and it springs open. “And by the way, your daughter? She’s a grown-ass woman. She needs her own life and her own space. It’s time for her to move out. I think you’ll be able to function just fine having her as an office manager and a daughter. You don’t need her to be your roommate and surrogate companion anymore.” The elevator starts to buzz, annoyed that I’m keeping it from its very important job of delivering me to the bottom floor. I point my finger in his face. “You’re fucking her all up in the head. Stop being a selfish weirdo.”

His eyes flare with anger and he takes a step in my direction. The elevator is faster than him, though.

Man, that felt good.

I shouldn’t laugh. But I can’t help it. I always do what I shouldn’t.

I laugh so hard I nearly pee my pants.

Chapter 42

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