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“Thanks, Lance!” she’d said.
I hadn’t even bothered to correct her with my real name. She was so far out of my league it was almost laughable.
And so, despite my apprehension, I nodded at Davis, forcing a shaky smile onto my face. “Sure,” I repeated, my mind already swirling with how I was going to approach this. “I’ll talk to her.” My gaze was drawn back to Ellie, the woman who, without even trying, had completely captivated me.
“You’ve heard of the Goodings?” Davis’s gaze finally breaking away from Ellie and the older man, turning toward me.
“Uh,” I began, not wanting to lie.
“Gooding owns half the buildings in Manhattan. Real estate royalty, I guess you could say.”
The mere mention of the Goodings stirred memories, resentments, and old family tales. But Davis had no clue about any of that, and I aimed to keep it that way. “Really? Impressive.” I kept my face blank, betraying no hint of recognition.
Davis shrugged as if he couldn’t care less, but he came from money that made the Gooding fortune look like spare change. “And then there’s Ellie, his daughter. You’ve met, right?”
My gaze flickered to Ellie, her laughter echoing around the room. Her radiant smile and charm were a stark contrast to her father’s reputation. “Yeah,” I answered, willing myself not to blush. “We’ve met.” I refrained from telling Davis that she knew me as Lance.
“She’s never had anything to do with the family business,” Davis continued. “I think she wants to be an influencer. Having someone with her social media following supporting Connect could be a game changer for us.”
My mouth felt dry. I forced a grin, “Yeah, imagine,” my voice sounding a tad too high even to my own ears. Davis gave me a pat on the back before walking away, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and my rising dread.
Inside I was panicking. I was torn between my job and my family, between Davis’s dreams and my own fears. Ellie Gooding was indeed a game changer, but not in the way Davis imagined.
Ellie was all the way across the room, but even from this distance, I could see the soft peach of her blush spread across the apples of her cheeks as she spoke animatedly to the grouchy man before her. Her silk blouse and high-waisted shorts highlighted her small frame. The tiny Prada purse resting on the table next to her matched her perfectly—stylish, expensive, and completely out of reach for a guy like me.
But reality came crashing down on me with Davis’s words. I would have to talk to Ellie—not as a starstruck admirer, but as an employee doing his job. The thought was both exciting and terrifying, filling me with a sense of dread. How was I supposed to act normal around her, knowing what I did about our families’ history? And even more importantly, how was I supposed to keep my growing feelings for her a secret?
A text came through, and I reached into my pocket to read the message.
Vince got eight years.
Eight years. Seeing it in black and white on the screen was like a punch to the stomach. I took a deep breath, trying to push down the wave of worry that rose within me.
It could’ve been worse. For embezzling from a company pension, he could have faced up to twenty-five years in state prison. But the federal trial was still hanging over our heads.
Shoving those thoughts aside, I quickly texted back,At work. I’ll call later. Are you okay?I wish I could have been there at the sentencing hearing to support my mom, but how could I have explained my need for time off to Davis? Having him find out my stepdad had embezzled over a million dollars was the last thing I wanted.
Her response came in a flurry of texts, each one more panicked than the last. She was upset, worried about how we would cope, angry at Vince’s lawyer, who she blamed for not fighting hard enough for a lesser sentence.
We’ll get a better lawyer for the federal trial, I promised, even though the current lawyer’s fees were more than we could afford.
Vince was the only dad I’d ever known. He’d made some bad choices, sure, but he’d coached every Little League baseball team I’d been on and sat up with me all night when I was sick, even though he had an important meeting the next morning. He’d been there, front and center, when I graduated high school, cheering the loudest, his eyes welling up with proud tears. And there again for my bachelor’s, and most recently when I got my MBA.
Now, he was paying the price for his mistakes. And we were left picking up the pieces.
I put my phone back in my pocket, pushing the image of Vince behind bars out of my mind. For now, I needed to focus on work, on Davis, on Ellie. The rest would have to wait until later.
