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“What is it?” I ask her.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to do it. Sybil knows you’re a good guy. Maybe she’s had regrets where you’re concerned,” Ellie states.
“I doubt it,” I chortle.
“But you don’t know. I should be the one to talk to Sybil,” she suggests, surprising me.
“What?” I’m confused.
“It should be me, Connor. I . . .”
“What is it?” I ask because suddenly she seems choked up. “Whatever it is, you know you can tell me.”
She nods but a heaviness settles between us, and I gather her up in my arms and she rests her head on my chest.
“The reason. . .the fallout with my family,” she begins.
“Because they didn’t support your ambitions to become an artist,” I add.
She shakes her head. “That was part of it but not the real reason we don’t talk.”
“You can trust me,” I assure.
“I know,” she says quietly. By the change in her tone, I can tell that whatever she is about to say will be serious. “The last time I saw my father, I was in his office. After college I was interning for the business because of family pressure to be a part of things, even though I didn’t want to be there because I always felt guilty about not pleasing him,” she shares.
I don’t want to interrupt but I know something about guilt.
“Anyway. . .”
“Whatever it is, I won’t judge,” I assure because she isn’t getting to the point.
She nods and blinks. “It’s just a hard memory. I’ve tried to bury it but. . .”
“It always resurfaces,” I finish.
She nods once again. “While I interned for my dad, I met a lot of his colleagues. One day I was in my own office when his colleague stopped by. He was a man who was about my father’s age and he was interested in buying one of Dad’s startups.”
I don’t think I like where this is going. My body tenses with a fierce need to protect her.
“The man was friendly at first. I hadn’t been sitting by my desk when he walked in. I was looking at a file and leaning against the front of it because I hated sitting at a desk all day. It felt like torture and so when he walked into my office, he walked right up to me and said he was looking forward to working with me on the transition of the company. He then reached out and rubbed my shoulder. I had been wearing a tank dress and my shoulder was bare and I still remember his touch, but he didn’t stop there.”
I hiss, unable to contain my murderous emotions.
“He told me he would love to take me to bed. That he would be a giving lover. I told him I wasn’t interested. That he better get his hands off me, but he continued to paw at me, laughing about how he could be so good for me. How his relationship with my father would only grow. He even grabbed my breast.”
“Ellie,” I groan. “What did you do?”
“I kneed him in the balls. He hunched forward and I ran out of my office. By the time I got to my dad’s office I was out of breath from panicking. I didn’t even realize I was crying. Daddy stood. He looked concerned. Asked me what was wrong with a sweet comforting tone but when I told him what happened, he told me not to make up such nonsense. That the deal with the man would cost our company big time. I couldn’t believe my own ears, but then I thought back on my life. I tried to remember a time where my mother or father stood up for me, and I couldn’t think of one time. I thought about how often had they supported me or listened to what was in my heart. The answer was zero. So, when Daddy told me I needed to learn how to deal with the big boys and suck it up, I told him to fuck off. Then I walked out of his office and never saw him, my mother, or my brothers again. I had thought at some point they would reach out, but they didn’t and it hurt me for a long time. I had Nana and she tried to make peace between us all, but my father wasn’t receptive to her either and my mother does whatever he does. My brothers too. They only care about their access to money. I think Daddy threatened to cut off their trust funds if they reached out to me.”
“Shit, Ellie. That sounds awful,” I say.
“Even Nana doesn’t know the whole story, even though I sometimes get the feeling she knows I didn’t just walk away because of my art.”
I take her in my arms and kiss the top of her head. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. It makes me want to hold you close and not let you go.”
I realize what I’ve said and I know I can’t take it back. I don’t want to.
“You see, it needs to be me who talks to Sybil. She’s probably been surrounded by powerful men who think they can do as they please with no consequences. Warren Carrington is a perfect example. It needs to be me, Connor. I can get through to Sybil.”
