Page 82 of Lela's Choice

Lela had thought about this too on the plane trip home. She hadn’t spent all her time wondering about what-ifs, chastising herself for missing Hamish’s signals, wanting him to love her enough to take another risk.

“What about a birthday party in Malta? We’ve talked for decades about going as a family. I’d say we’ll never get a better chance.”

“Accept her ultimatum.” Papa jerked upright.

“Meet her halfway. Show we respect her choices, that we love her despite being devastated by her decision.” Lela studied her brothers, could almost see their brains ticking over. They’d check with their wives, but they weren’t opposed. “For you, Papa, it’s a way to say you’re sorry and show you mean it.” Her challenge dropped into a charged silence.

Thirty seconds passed, then a minute. Lela wiggled to the front of the sofa. She hadn’t really expected a fast response.

“It’s a good idea.” For Papa, a “good idea” was a concession speech.

* * *

KEEPING HAMISH WAITINGtwenty minutes for a scheduled meeting was a crude exercise in power, but Hamish had anticipated it. From the delayed acceptance of his request to meet Giovanni Vella, he knew the old man hadn’t forgiven him for not hauling Sophie back to Australia. Nor for telling Vella his instructions weren’t worth the paper they were written on. He’d failed the old man. And Vella had made him wait three weeks for this interview.

“Mr. Vella will see you now.” The secretary’s smile hinted at apology.

A large, utilitarian office, with heavy, dark furniture. A recent paint job, new lights, drapes, and a recovering of the chesterfield couch brought it into the twenty-first century, but the old man had probably started his business life in Australia with that cedar desk and those chunky bookcases. Vella completed his conversation and slowly rose to his feet.

“You asked to see me, Mr. MacGregor?” The old man inclined his head, an autocrat granting a reluctant audience.

Vella had recovered from the shock he’d shown during the video call. His face had regained its colour, and he exuded more vigour, more king-of-the-castle body language today.

Lela shared her father’s semi-regal bearing. She’d held her head at just that angle on their last night together. Proud of who she was, refusing to accept his pathetic excuses. Skewering him with her clear-sightedness and unconditional love.

Hamish was comfortable with Vella’s antagonism; it reflected his discomfort with his own decisions. He’d exchanged a few emails with Mariella Debrincat and checked in on Sophie’s preferred social media sites. For the last four weeks, Sophie had kept her side of the bargain. She’d enrolled in a language course, worked on the tourist boats most days and sent her grandfather regular emails. If he was fair, the old man would admit she was healthy, happy and productive. Learning independence under the sheltering arm of the Debrincats.

“May I?” Hamish gestured to a seat facing the desk.

“Why have you come?” Vella sat down.

“I told Lela I would.” Hamish took the chair and faced him. And I’m letting you know she’s important to me.Make of that what you will.

“Yet you didn’t have the courtesy to tellmeyou’d decided to work against me,” Vella snapped.

“Until I met your granddaughter and talked to her, I hadn’t made a final decision. You had my report the next day.”

“It was a mistake hiring you.” Vella drummed his fingers on the desk.

“We can agree on that. Why did you? Why didn’t you let Lela handle it?”

“My daughter,Carmen”—Vella emphasised the name—“is supporting my granddaughter’s actions.”

“Instead of an arranged marriage to a stranger?” Hamish wouldn’t tolerate the old man’s hypocrisy, any more than he’d tolerate criticism of Lela.

“Dynastic alliances are commonplace in business.” Vella shrugged his indifference.

“I’ll take your word for it, but Lela wouldn’t have let you.”

“Carmen is a rebel.”

Hamish laughed for the first time in days. “She’s toed the line for eighteen years, lived by your rules, put her life on hold.” He could have added she was old-fashioned where it counted, made love to him because she loved him, but wouldn’t flaunt a secret affair in her father’s face, wouldn’t accept less than an honest relationship. She hadn’t responded to his texts, although a minor functionary at her office had thanked him on behalf of Western National for the bouquet of flowers he’d sent.

“Like my granddaughter, she’s run away.”

“I bet you knew about the apartment. She signed that contract long before you scared Sophie away.” Hamish bet her father knew where most of her income went. The old man probably knew about the sheets and towels she’d stolen as a child. “I’d also be prepared to bet she eats at home two or three nights a week, even now. Lela will never willingly be separated from her family.”

“It’s not enough,” Vella stated.

---