Page 27 of Daddy's Best Friend

After he left the room, I checked the guest house again, just to be certain. If Trevor was doing what I thought he was doing last night, there was no way he was paying attention. Ella could have slipped in at any point when he was otherwise entertained. But the guest house was empty, just as it had been last night both times, I checked it.

Feeling like there was nothing else I could do at this point, I headed into the office, stopping by the closest Starbucks to grabElla her favorite latté and a biscotti. I felt like somehow, I’d let her down, though I wasn’t sure how it had happened. As I drove, I thought about the day she fanaticized about us having a future together. She had lain there in my arms telling me how we’d build my company, and how we’d not be ashamed of anyone’s judgment. How long had I wanted that from a woman?

I had thought Kirsty was that woman for me. We started building a life together, had Trevor, bought a home. Then the company started to grow, and it took long hours to make sure all the work was done. I couldn’t afford to hire as many people as were needed early on, so most of the work fell to me and a few shareholders who were willing to pitch in. Those shareholders were now my board members, and we were all quite wealthy because of the sacrifices we made back then.

My biggest sacrifice, however, was not the time I spent, or the long hours without pay. It was my family. I pushed Kirsty to the breaking point and almost lost Trevor because of it. The past three weeks had been nothing but meetings and long conference calls. Ella loved my company; she’d said as much herself. But everyone had their breaking point, and I wondered if I had pushed Ella past hers.

Was it the fact that I remained emotionally distant from her because of the promise I made to her father? My own fear of his judgment took precedence over what she felt. I kept her at arm’s length instead of drawing her in, the way I should have. And I felt awful for that.

I parked in my normal spot, finding the parking garage only half-full. It was early, and my ride to the fifth floor was solitary. I’d grown used to Ella’s chatter about the day, what tasks she had, what meetings I had. She’d tell me what she planned to eat for lunch and ask if I’d be busy. The silence this morning waspainful. Mostly because I felt guilty for doing something I had no understanding of.

When the elevator doors opened and I walked out, none of the office lights had even been turned on. Heather was not at her desk, and only the swishing sound of the copier in the room down the hallway could be heard. I strolled to Ella’s office, fully believing she had come home late last night and left for work early this morning just to avoid me. I prepared as I approached, my best apology.

But her light was off, her office locked.

I doubled back, heading to the copy room, only to find Rene smiling at me. “Good morning, Boss.”

“You’re not due until Monday.” It came out sounding harsh instead of welcoming. Rene had been through such an ordeal, and it was great to see her, but my heart was wrenching and I had no clue why.

“Well happy Friday to you too.” She chuckled. “I had a few copies to make, a little newsletter of my incident and the recovery. I thought it would help field the billion questions I’d be getting. Hope you don’t mind.” She shrugged and picked up a sheet of paper off the machine and handed it to me.

“Thanks… No, I don’t mind.” I smiled, though it was forced. I didn’t want to smile, I wanted to find Ella and get to the bottom of what was happening, because I got the feeling it wasn’t good. “Welcome back.”

I headed to my office. If Ella wasn’t here, wasn’t at home, and hadn’t been heard of since work yesterday, it left me with one conclusion. She had gone home for that damn dinner with her father and now he knew something. I was sweating bullets bythe time I got to my desk, locking myself in to the seemingly suffocating space and drawing the blinds on all sides of me.

If Todd knew, he’d have called me by now—maybe. Or maybe he’d wait until office hours and just charge right in here with his fists blazing. Either way, if there was music to face, I wanted to take it head on. So, I dialed Ella’s number first, to see if she’d pick up. Of course, she did not.

So, I called Todd. He, too, did not answer, which did not help my frustration. So, I left him a voicemail.

“Todd, this is Alan. Just calling to check in. Have you talked to Ella? She left work early yesterday, but she never went home. She was gone this morning when I went to check on her. She said she was ill, and I thought maybe I’d bring her some soup or something. Anyway, she’s not at work this morning either. Let me know if you talk to her.”

The message was just about as bland and unassuming as it could be. He would never suspect something was going on between us just from that message, so if he was suspicious, it would be because of Ella. I just hoped she kept her mouth shut.

I sat there staring at my black computer screen feeling like an ass. I had broken a promise to my best friend and then somehow broken his daughter’s heart too. I just wished I knew how. The only way to get to the bottom of things would be to talk to her, and if I had to, I’d just show up at her parents’ house unannounced.

21

ELLA

Iwoke up after a lazy Sunday afternoon nap, feeling a bit refreshed and a bit ill. I’d done nothing but sleep and cry for days now. I hadn’t even called in to work on Friday, for which I was certain I hadn’t heard the last lecture. Dad laid into me at dinner Friday night saying Alan had left him a scathing voicemail. I knew Alan, and I knew he’d never even have a scathing tone of voice. Dad was a bit dramatic, probably to lay a guilt trip on me.

The three voicemails on my phone from Alan all remained in my inbox unheard. I didn’t even want to listen to his voice. I loved him and I had messed everything up. I was ashamed of myself, and for once it wasn’t because I had gotten too drunk and blacked out or found myself in a stranger’s house upon waking. It wasn’t even because my father had embarrassed me or shamed me to the point, I felt wrong or bad.

I felt ashamed because I’d let Alan down, and I didn’t even know how to tell him. The only experience I had with letting people down included my father and mother, and those circumstanceshad led to me hiding my wild streak from them. Only, when they found out, it was even worse.

Pushing myself up out of the bed, I decided I needed to eat. I skipped breakfast and lunch, feeling too down to even see what we had in the fridge. At Alan’s house I’d have just ordered takeout and had it delivered, but here, I was back under the thumb of my father’s budget. In fact, if I didn’t decide what I was doing soon, how to tell Alan, Dad would force me to work at his company.

I glanced at the clock as I opened the bedroom door—almost dinner time. A delicious aroma wafted down the hall to my bedroom, coaxing me out of my cocoon and into the main part of the house. The maid was making dinner, and it made my stomach grumble. I splayed my hand over my belly and peeked into the kitchen. Mom stood with a glass of wine, reading a ladies’ magazine that lay open on the counter.

The maid stood stirring a pot on the stove, which smelled like hot ham and potato soup. There was a fresh loaf of bread on a cooling rack next to the range, and a large pitcher of what looked like sweet tea with lemons floating in it perched on the dinette table. Mom looked up as I stepped into the room and her eyes shot wide.

“Oh, sorry, dear.” She scurried to the sink, dumping out the remnants of her glass of wine and rinsing the glass out. “I didn’t mean to drink in front of you.” She rushed to my side after setting the glass down and offered a hug. I wondered what on earth had gotten into her, until I realized she thought maybe I was going through withdrawal or something. Pregnant women couldn’t drink. I smacked my forehead.

“Mom, I’m not an alcoholic. I just liked to drink at parties, okay? You don’t have to stop drinking in front of me. I’ll be fine.” I pushed her off of me and pulled a glass out of the cupboard. That sweet tea looked delicious, and I intended to have a glass. So, I sat down and poured the glass full to the brim and sipped it. The maid looked up at me and smiled but said nothing. Dad was the only one who could really interact with her—she came straight off a boat and knew no English.

“It’s good,” I told her, raising my glass and having a sip. She smiled and nodded and kept stirring.

“Ella, we need to talk to your father tonight, okay? I tried to give you a bit of time, but he is asking questions about why you’re back here and I don’t know what to tell him.” Mom sat down across from me and picked her fingernails as the maid lifted the pot of soup off the burner and poured it into a serving dish. The table had already been set with bowls and spoons; napkins draped across each empty table setting. Dad would be here any minute. There were only three place settings too—which meant Alex would not be around.

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