Page 42 of Close Match
And I’m the result of it.
Twenty-Five
Evangeline
Afew days later, I’m due to fly back home and more at ease with my father than I was before the trip started. Ev’s admitted a few of his own truths along the way. He’s not just some nobody; he’s a retired software mogul. He was thrown I didn’t recognize his name when Char first used it.
“To be honest, Linnie, I kept thinking I’d get an email from you accusing me of lying to you,” he admitted last night at dinner. This was right before he invited me to come to stay at his farm in nearby Middleburg for as long as I want to get to know him and Char better.
I told him then, I’d need to think about it, but all it took was a FaceTime to Bristol. She practically fell off her bed when I told her the truth. “He’s that Everett Parrish? Holy hell, Linnie, we handle some of his accounts.” Her voice was faint. “The man is worth millions—like maybe closer to billions.”
“So, I take it that your concerns…”
“Are completely eradicated. The man is responsible for some of the breakthroughs of the early days of the internet. He was doing the same thing we were with your identity.” Even over the Wi-Fi connection, I can see how stunned Bristol is.
“He wants me to come to visit,” I blurt out. Her eyes widen.
“For how long?”
“For as long as I’m comfortable with.”
“Whoa. What are you going to do?”
I begin pacing the hotel suite; now I know how Ev could afford two of them. “There’s the side of me that wants to get to know him and his family. But then there’s the side of me that wants to be with you and with Simon.”
She’s quiet—so quiet I think I’ve lost her. I begin pressing buttons on the phone until she snaps, “Will you stop flipping the camera around? I’m beginning to get dizzy.”
“You were so quiet I thought I’d lost you.”
“You’re worse than some of the people I work with,” she complains. I smile because Bristol has some great stories about the computer-illiterate people who work at her brokerage firm. “Listen, you already told me you’d be here for all of the major moments with the baby, so what’s holding you back?”
An image of Monty flashes through my brain. Thoughts of Ev’s dark-haired stepson send warning signs screaming in my head and my heart. But he doesn’t factor in. Not when it comes to this. “Nothing. I’m not scheduled for anything.”
“And you can always come home.”
“True,” I concede. Ending my call with Bristol shortly after that, I know what I’m going to do. It just feels crazy to put it into words.
“I’m thrilled you’re going to be able to come down for an extended stay,” my father says softly. We’re out to lunch before the car service takes me back to the Dulles VIP terminal. If it weren’t for the cobblestone streets of Old Town, I’d swear I was back in New York City with the amount of swearing that comes from people’s mouths when you make an accidental wrong turn. Sheesh.
“It wasn’t that difficult to get the time off.” That’s not an exaggeration of the truth. It isn’t like I have a nine-to-five job. Everything Bristol said made sense. I want—no, need—to get to know my father better.
“Still, it means a lot. If your job is going to cause any problems for you financially, well.” He looks embarrassed for a moment before he mutters, “You know you just have to ask.”
A flash of anger whips through me that he thinks I’d be sitting here right now for money when I can almost hear my mother whispering in my head,Take a deep breath, darling. “Ev, I have no need for your money. I don’t want your money. That’s not why I’m here,” I remind him firmly.
Green eyes—the same shade as my own—look at me with amusement. “And that, I know without a doubt, you got from your mother. In the very short time we were together, she wouldn’t let me pay for a thing.”
Placing the menu aside, I lean forward. “Really?”
His smile holds fondness. “Oh yeah. Elle was all about sharing the bill. She continuously paid her way. I called her a stubborn Irishwoman more than once in the few weeks we spent together.”
Laughing, I pick up my water. “She was that,” I murmur.
“You said she was in the same business you are? I know you said last night she was a recovering alcoholic, but did stress contribute to her illness? Should you get checked out?” His evident concern about my well-being causes warmth to steal through me. I’m saved from having to answer when our waiter comes up. We both place our orders, and I realize I can’t do it anymore.
I can’t hide who I am.
After the waiter departs, I angle my body toward his. “Part of the reason I went through the DNA testing portion of the genealogy kit was to see if there were any underlying medical issues. I’m covered through an excellent plan I pay out of pocket for.” I’m not shocked by his gasp of outrage. He believes I work for a communications firm. “Please, let me finish?” He nods. “But my medical history was under the presumption that Bristol’s father’s family lineage was my background. I can more than afford to have the right medical care, but I needed information first. And if something came up, until I could find that data—” I grimace. “—well, I could deal with my doctor. Ev, what Mom and I did, what I do, for a living is extremely physical.”
