“He says he’s okay.”
“Do you really believe that?” my mom says.
“No. But I’m trying to do what he’s asked for once. He says he doesn’t want me there.”
My mother sighs. “Are you really serious about him, Elle?”
I nod once. “More serious than anything.”
“Then go be with him.”
It’s not that simple. “There’re issues.”
“Sweetheart.” She sighs again, this time with frustration. “That’s what love is. Issues. One after another and another. But when you love someone, you just have to commit. And when bad things happen, you stand together and fight until you can’t go any further. It’s that simple. But if you’re not ready to do that, then you’re not ready for marriage because I promise there will never be a lack of reasons to quit. So you’ve got to have at least one good reason to stick it out: him.” She blinks at me, her eyes threatening to tear. “You have to love him. And you. And what you make together. You have to believe in that one thing. Otherwise, it’s not going to last.”
I sit there trying to digest what she’s saying. My heart knows she’s right, but my brain tells me that I’m in a no-win situation. If his family survived, which I hope with all my heart they did, then I’m back to square one: Choosing between my mother’s life or my love for Henry. If his family didn’t survive, then there’ll forever be a dark cloud hanging over our heads. Our relationship will feel like the tragic fruit of a tragic event, and neither of us can stomach that.
I bend my head and cover my face, whooshing out an exasperated breath.
“What is it, Elle?” she asks.
“Everything keeps going the wrong way. And I can’t fix it.” I sob my words.
“Then don’t try, Elle.” She reaches for my back and makes tiny soothing circles over my shoulder blades the way only a mother can. “Just let all that go and be by his side.”
“It’s complicated.” And I’m not about to tell her about Pervy Chester’s ultimatum.
“Okay! Then it’s complicated. But you fight for what you want, Elle. And you commit to what you need.”
Her words are like a gallon of gasoline for my tired little engine that’s run out of I-think-I-cans. I need to do more than try. I have to see it through to the end, until there is nothing left to give. Just like she’s doing for us. Just like me, my sister, and my father are doing for her. We won’t stop until we’ve won or there’s nothing left to fight for.
I haven’t done that for Henry. For us.
I stand up. “Okay. I’ll go see him.” I lean over and kiss her forehead. “Tell Dad I won’t be home tonight. Don’t want him to worry.”
“Worry? About you? Never!” She smiles and the view makes my heart all tingly.
“Love you, Mom.”
“Tell Henry that our thoughts are with him,” she says. “And that if he needs anything, we’re here.”
I leave, surmising my mother knows more than she’s letting on. Otherwise I’d be getting the lecture about how I’m too young to think of marriage. Instead, I get the Tammy Wynette “stand by your man” speech.
She’s right, of course. I may be lacking experience, but I’m learning how to listen to the people who love me.
Dammit. I wish I’d started sooner.
HENRY
I sit in the family lawyer’s office, my neck hot, my hands sweating as everyone is cleared from the room—Big Tom, a few of my dad’s business partners, and an uncle who works at one of the drill sites that I never really see except for the occasional Christmas party.
Mr. Larson takes a seat, the buttons of his starched white dress shirt clacking against the edge of his desk because his belly protrudes so far.
“Now-a, Henry son,” he says with a thick Texan accent, “I’ve asked you here today because there are several matters to discuss. Matters only for your ears.” He shoves his reading glasses onto his pudgy red face and my first thought is that he’s likely going to die of a heart attack before this conversation is over. I’ve seen Larson lurking at our summer fundraiser picnics, and he’s not shy about his love of BBQ ribs and beer.
“Fine,” I say. “Just hurry up because I need to get back to my parents’ house.” I’d call it home, but there’s no such thing in my world. There are just showplaces, impersonal assets where we spend time.
Regardless, a small army is camped out there, mostly people I’ve never met before, helping Megan—my father’s assistant—and me with everything from press releases to pushing the Coast Guard not to call off the search, to keeping any vultures at bay. And the vultures are many. Business partners, investors, executives claiming my father owes them, and contractors waving around unpaid invoices for drilling crews. The line of heartless people who only care about their money is insane. At the very least, they could give me a week or two to focus on my family.
“Well, Henry, I’ve known your father a very long time—almost twenty years. And it’s no secret that he likes to do things his way.”
No. Really? “Yes. I am aware.”
“Nor did the man trust many people—he was always going on and on about people tryin’ to steal his fortune.”
My mom’s fortune, but whatever.
Larson continues. “That’s the reason he didn’t make the proper operational contingencies.”
“What contingencies?”
He leans into his desk. “Henry, there’s a will in place if he dies. There’s also a living will in place that specifies what to do if he were ill and unable to speak on his own behalf about treatment. But there is nothin’ in place to deal with a situation where he’s missing. He’s got over twenty companies and no one’s manning the helm.”
“So can’t the teams at each of his companies just run things until we find him?” Because we have to find him. Him, my mother, and my three sisters. They can’t all be dead. Life isn’t that cruel, is it?
Larson shakes his head of thinning dark hair. “Your father kept strict control over everything, Henry. Only he has the authority to sign contracts, approve payments over one hundred thousand dollars, and make changes in the executive staff.”
“Sounds like a hell of a lot of work.”
“It is. But the crazy old hoot never slept.”
I would feel bad for my father, except he chose to make things that way. “So what’s going to happen, then?”
“Henry, as hard as this is going to be, we need to call off the search and file a motion with the court to declare your father dead.”
Whatthefuck? “No. We’re not giving up on finding them. That’s ridiculous.”
“Son, you need to see the big picture here.” Larson holds up his thick arms like he’s mimicking a goalpost. “Your family is likely gone, and without someone running those companies, they’ll die a quick, painful death; all that money invested will go with them.”
“If you’re saying I should think about the money over my family’s lives, then you’re all crazy bastards.” I seriously want to thump this guy over the head.
“Grow up, son. You’re in the big leagues now. Do you know how many people with families depend on their paychecks? Your father’s oil business alone has over ten thousand employees.”
I hadn’t thought about that, but I still won’t throw away any chance of finding my family. They could be lost at sea in a raft. Time is of the essence.
Larson continues, “Now-a, I’ve got some connection with a few judges. We’ll try to get them to rush through the paperwork.”
“Why?”
“So everything can go to you, son. Your father left all his assets to his children and you’re it.”
I feel a huge lump build in my throat, and I can’t choke it down. “I don’t want to own it. I don’t want to run his companies.”
“Then sell it all. But that’s going to take years. In the meantime, son, you’ll need a team to help you run things. Now, I have some people that I can recommend—”
“No. We’re not calling off the search.”
<
br /> Larson’s cheap smile melts away. “Son, you’ll have enough money in your pocket to search for them the rest of your life. But I’m not just going to leave empty-handed because your father was too stubborn to listen to me.”
“Ah. Now I see. It’s about the money.” My hands tighten into fists.
“Everything is about money. Even your father had enough common sense to know that. As for you, if you’re smart, you’ll listen to me. I can make sure you’re taken care of.”
Asshole. Is that really what he thinks I’m worried about? Myself?
I suddenly realize that I’m just a guppy in a giant shark tank and they’re all looking for a way to chew me up. I need someone I can trust. Someone smart who can sort through all of this to help me figure out what to do.
I need Elle.
I stand up. “I’ll sleep on it. In the meantime, email me all this stuff you’re talking about—the wills and a list of all his holdings.”
“What do you need all that for? I told you everything you need to know.”
Yeah, sure. “I want to see what I’m up against if I go with your plan.”
“It’s like I said, Henry, you simply gotta—”
“I’m guessing that your company bills us more than one hundred thousand dollars a month, right?”
He gives me a hard look. “We are on a retainer, yes. But we do a considerable amount of—”
“I’m also guessing you don’t get paid if I don’t go along with your plan, so if that’s the case, then send me the information. All of it. Or I will find another lawyer to file those papers, and once I have control, my first act will be firing you.”
He glares with his beady gray eyes. “I’ll have Betsy, my assistant, send everything right over.”
“Good man, Larson.” Vulture. “I’ll let you know my plans in the morning.”
When I pull up to my parents’ estate, there’s a long line of new vans parked along the narrow street. They’ve been there for three days, and I don’t expect them to leave anytime soon. I hit the remote on my visor and the iron gate slides open. Reporters crowd my SUV, tapping the glass with their microphones.
Morons. It’s almost like they want me to run over them or punch them in the face just so they’ll have something new to report.
I pull forward slowly, giving a quick wave to one of the security guards. Normally, my father has five guards, but the company’s owner told me they now need ten just to keep up. People from everywhere, including every psychic in the state of Texas, wants in. It’s insane.
I pull into the circular front driveway with a reflecting pool in the center and head for the door.
“Henry! Hey! It’s me!” I turn my head and there’s a petite blonde with large framed glasses yelling through the gate.
“Elle?”
She makes a little wave. The moment the reporters realize I know her, they mob her.
“Hey! Back off!” I storm toward the gate and tell the guard to reopen it.
“You did not just shove a microphone up my nose!” Elle pushes back on some skinny guy in a black tie. “Let’s see how you like it!” She snatches the thing from his hand and smacks him square in the nose with it.
“Ow! That’s assault,” he whines.
“No, by law that’s self-defense. You wanna see assault, bend over!”
I’m trying not to smile, but Elle is literally trying to grab his arm so she can turn him around. I’d better save the guy or he’s going to end up being his own news story.
“Elle! Hey!” I get her attention and jerk my head to the side.
She sees the gate’s open and that I’m waiting for her, but she still takes a moment to throw the microphone at the guy, who’s now running away.
Thunk! She nails him right on the back of the head.
Ouch. That had to hurt.
“That’ll teach you to attack a woman, you pig!” Elle stomps over, and I can see her nose is bloody. The cameramen keep their distance but continue filming.
“Jesus, what did he do to you?” Now I want to go after the guy and finish the job, though I love that Elle has no issue defending herself or humiliating a grown man on live TV.
Elle puts her hand over her nose. “It’s just a little blood. I’m fine.”
“Let’s go inside and get you some ice.” I look at the guard, who’s just closed the gate. “Find out who that guy is. I want him arrested.”
“No, Henry,” Elle protests, “you’ve got enough to worry about.” She looks at the guard. “But get his name; I might send him a package of bedbug-riddled PJs.”
Jeez. “Is that a joke?”
“Infestation-O-Gram. They’re your worst enemy’s itchiest nightmare.”
I cringe. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”
“Don’t ever get on my bad side,” she says in a deadpan.
“Funny.” I open the front door for her and we step inside. “So why didn’t you call and let me know you were coming?”
“I did. Five times, but it kept going to voice mail.”
I slide the phone from my pocket and realize I’d put it on Do Not Disturb mode since I’d been in that meeting.
“Sorry about that,” I say. “I switched it off. My cell doesn’t stop ringing now.”
“That’s okay—”
“Henry!” Megan rushes to greet me at the foyer. “There’s an issue with the San Antonio plant. They’re threatening a strike.”
“Strike? For what?”
“Your father never signed the new union contract and the old one expires in a month.”
“Then why are they walking out now?” I ask.
“Because the contract says that a new contract has to be in place thirty days before the expiration of the old one or they will consider it a termination and have the right to use up all of their unpaid leave.”
“Fuck. Why didn’t he sign it?” I ask.
Megan gives me a shrug like she doesn’t know what to do.
Elle tugs on my arm. “I need to talk to you, Henry. Can we go somewhere private?”
I give her a look. “Just a minute, Elle. I have to go talk to the operations guys and see what our options are.” I turn to Meg. “Find Frank Whatshisface and get him on the phone—”
“Tell the union leader to look at the force majeure clause in the contract,” Elle says. “They’ll have to wait for the agreement to formally expire or face a breach.”
Huh? I give Elle a look.
She makes a flutter with her hand, like she’s trying to hurry the conversation up. “Most contracts in the United States have a force majeure clause. It protects the parties from having to comply with terms of the contract if an act of God has occurred and impedes such execution.”
I give her another look, not fully understanding.
“You know—if there’s a natural disaster or something completely out of your hands like a chemical spill or another country declares war on us. Your father can’t reasonably execute the contract renewal if his plane was hit by lightning, now can he? They’ll have to wait. Not forever, of course, but it should buy you some time.”
I knew Elle was the right person.
I turn to Meg and give her the nod. “Can you get Elle a bag of ice while you’re heading that way?”
“Yes. Of course.” Meg hurries off into the other room.
“Can we talk now?” Elle asks. “It’s important.”
“Actually, I was planning to call you tonight to talk over something important, too.” I point upstairs. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”
She gives me a hesitant nod. “Okay. But no kissing. I don’t want any distractions until I’ve said everything.”
I’m intrigued. Add to that, the look in her brown eyes is sharp and determined, like she’s on a mission. I might not be able to keep from kissing her.
“Then I’ll lead the way,” I say.
ELLE
I’ve run seventy-two scenarios through my head in terms of how to tell Henry, in no uncerta
in terms, that I am not leaving. Not him. Not his side. Not until we have both concluded that our relationship can no longer thrive, which in my mind will never happen. As my mother said, at some point, you just have to commit and, come what may, you stick it out together.
Yes, his dad put us both in a horrible situation, but after thinking about what my mom said, I realized that Henry and I had failed to do one thing: Make a stand together. And that was our shortcoming: believing in us. We’d both allowed Henry’s dad to kowtow us with fear. We’d allowed him to play by his rules.
Henry leads me into a study that smells like leather and cigars. I assume it’s his father’s. As for the house, it’s a mansion—huge and impersonal with expensive-looking art on the walls, high ceilings, and the sort of furnishings you’d expect to see in a glossy new modern-day palace. I don’t like it one bit. I love homes that are loved and lived in. Preferably with kittens.
Wearing a plain white button-down and jeans, Henry faces me with his arms crossed and leans his big body against the antique desk—circa 1920s from what I know about furniture. Which is a lot. Another phase that followed my Twinkie obsession.
“You want to go first?” he says.
“Yeah. I do. I want to say that I’ve made two mistakes—okay, three mistakes, counting the time I went to see your father. But I think it was the wrong choice for us to let your father put a wedge between us like that and to allow him to use my mother’s life as leverage. So while I recognize he had backed us into a corner, I now see that we let it happen. We let him set the rules when we should’ve stood up to him together. As a team. Like you do on the field with your football bros. You don’t always know how you’ll win, but you get out there and you fight until the game is over. Well, we needed to be a team and we weren’t. Which is why my second mistake was allowing you to push me away when clearly this is the worst moment of your life. So I’m here to say that I’m not going. And you can’t make me, so don’t try. And yes, maybe I’ll make mistakes and bad choices, but I’m here for you whether you like it or—”
“Yes.”
I stumble over my tongue. “Sorry?”
“Yes. I’m saying yes. You’re right. I shouldn’t have let my father win so easily. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. And I need you. Like…really, really need you, Elle.”
Oh, Henry Page 15
