by Lisa Bilbrey
“Elle?” Lucia rushed to her side, pulling her into their office and kicking the door shut with her foot. “Take a breath before you pass out.”
Elle sucked a ragged gulp of air in and blew it out. “Where are they?”
“In the conference room, in a meeting. Do I need to get them?”
She wanted to scream yes, but instead, she shook her head. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.” Lucia led her to the worktable, pushing her into one of the seats. “I’m going to go get my brother.”
“Please don’t,” Elle begged causing her to sigh. “I’m not being stubborn. I just . . . I just need to be able to have a freak out without it becoming a big deal.”
“Okay, I’ll wait, but once their meeting is over, I’m telling them, Elle. I won’t keep this from him. Deal?”
Elle nodded and stood up. “Thanks, Lucia.”
“You’re welcome. Go back to your office. I’ll bring you a cup of coffee. Maybe decaf.”
“Ew,” Elle shuddered. “What’s the point of coffee if it’s decaf?”
Lucia laughed and sent her along her way. Elle settled behind her desk again, ignoring the light on her office phone that alerted to a voicemail. Lucia arrived a few minutes later with a cup of coffee.
Elle pulled the next file from the stack and began working on it. She hadn’t spent more than ten minutes going over the numbers, though, when the door to her office opened. She looked up expecting Callum, Derek, or Sadie, sure that Lucia had gone to tattle about her panic attack, but instead, Samuel stood in the middle of the threshold.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, pushing her chair backwards as she stood up.
“Well, since you wouldn’t answer any one of my hundred phone calls,” he snarked, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him with force, “I had to come down here myself to call you a stubborn, pain-in-the-ass bitch.”
Elle smiled. “Like you’ve never called me that before?”
“Don’t,” Samuel grumbled.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t pretend like I’m being a baby or some shit.”
“I’m not,” she said, frowning. “Am I?”
Samuel nodded. “Why didn’t you answer my call?”
Elle tensed and shrugged her shoulders.
“Goddamn it, Elle!”
“Stop yelling at me!” she whined. “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have called in the first place.”
“You think I’m mad because you called?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Aren’t you?”
Samuel stared at her for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
“You,” he scoffed, falling onto her sofa. “Mad because you called. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“So if you’re not mad because I called, then why are you mad?”
Samuel smiled. “Because you’re a stubborn pain-in-the-ass who hung up before I could tell her that I’m dying to come back to work.”
“You are?” she asked her grin matching his.
“Yes,” he groaned. “Elle, I’m bored to death. I love my wife, but she’s driving me crazy with all her protein shakes, yoga sessions, mediation, becoming one with our chi bullshit. Please, please, please let me come back to work.”
“Hmm, I don’t know,” Elle sighed, sitting back behind her desk and folding her hands in her lap. “Not sure we have an opening for an old guy like you. What would you do?”
“Help you run this company,” he said, his tone void of all teasing. “I know it’s hard for you to give up even a little bit of control, and I’m not suggesting that you’re incapable of handling the job anymore, but, Elle, you need help and I need to be the one to help you. At least for a while.”
Elle bit the inside of her lip. “Are you sure you’re ready to come back?”
“No,” he admitted. “But I’d like to try. If anything, I can take work home, but I need to feel like I’m contributing again, both to the company and to Lydia. Please, Elle?”
“Is Lydia okay with you coming back?”
“Who do you think told me to get my ass off the phone and come down here and kick your ass?” he snickered before smiling. “Don’t make me beg, Elle. It won’t be pretty.”
Elle laughed and nodded. “Fine, you can come back to work.” She smiled. “Thanks. I was really starting to lose my shit.”
“You’re welcome.” Samuel stood and walked to her desk, picking up half the pile sitting on her desk and a pen. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll work in here. Not sure I’m ready to integrate myself back out there yet.”
“I wouldn’t have you anywhere else.”
Elle cleared a corner of her desk for him to work on, turning her attention back to the file in front of her as he pulled a chair around.
—FA—
A knock on her door startled Elle and Samuel, who shared a look before she called for them to enter. The door swung open and she was relieved to find Callum, Derek, and Sadie standing there. They looked from Elle to Samuel, their smiles widening.
“Y’all planning on working all night?” Sadie asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“No,” Elle said, confused until she looked at the clock on her computer. “Holy shit, is it really half past five already?”
Callum laughed. “Yep. Time to call it a day.”
“Um, yeah, okay.” She closed the file she had been absorbed in and powered off her computer before looking at Samuel. “You coming back tomorrow?”
He nodded. “If that’s okay.”
“It really is,” she whispered and stood up with a groan. Her thigh throbbed and she found herself clutching the desk for support.
“You okay, beautiful?” Derek asked, rushing to her side and sliding his arm around her waist.
“No,” she admitted. “Think maybe it’s time to stop being stubborn about the cane.”
“You know,” Sadie said, shifting everyone’s attention to her as she took a few steps into the room. “There’s a nice, big office next door.”
“Yeah, and?” Elle asked.
“Just thinking that if we busted out this wall here,” Sadie gestured to the northern wall of her office, “and added a couple of doors conjoining the two rooms, you and Samuel would have a lot more space.”
“That’s Brett’s office,” Samuel muttered.
“He could have your old office and you could take that one,” Sadie suggested, smiling. “That way you and Elle can work more effectively without being on top of one another.”
“Oh, I see,” Samuel gritted, his eyes shifting to Elle. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it, Samuel,” Sadie fretted. “I mean, I wasn’t insinuating that I don’t trust you and Elle together.”
“Of course you weren’t,” he grumbled. “I should go.”
“Samuel, please stop,” Sadie begged, stepping in front of him before he could walk past her. “Just listen to me, okay?”
He nodded stiffly.
“I trust you and Elle one hundred and twenty percent. I swear, I do. She can’t run this place without your help, without your support. But this office, it isn’t big enough for the two of you. You’re going to be stepping on each other’s toes and I’m afraid it would cost you the relationship you both need. By making a small change to these two offices, you could work together, yet still have your own space. You know, for when Lydia comes by to visit,” Sadie added with a wink.
Samuel smiled and nodded. “She does like to pop in for a nooner every now and then.”
“Dad,” Callum groaned.
“Sorry,” he snickered.
“No, you’re not,” Callum said, grinning. “Honestly, it’s nice to hear you trying to gross me out by making inappropriate comments about you and Mom having sex.”
“It’s my job as your father,” Samuel chuckled before turning serious and looking at Elle
. “What do you think?”
“Well, as much as I like you hogging my desk, I think it’s a great idea.”
Samuel nodded. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” Sadie asked and when Samuel nodded, she threw her arms around him. He tensed for a moment before relaxing and hugging her back. “I love you, Samuel, and I’m so thankful for you.”
“I . . . I love you, too,” he whispered, turning his head and kissing her temple.
With the heaviness bearing down on them, Elle and Samuel locked their office and followed Callum, Derek, and Sadie to the elevator. Samuel tensed and tried to move to the stairs, but Elle lopped her arm in with his, pulling him back. He took a deep breath as he looked down at her.
“If I can do it, so can you,” was all she said.
Samuel didn’t appear as certain, but didn’t argue with her. When the doors to the elevator slide open, Derek once again stepped in first, using one hand to keep it from closing, while beckoning for Elle and Samuel to enter.
Her legs trembled, but she took the few steps inside, feeling Samuel close behind her. None of them spoke as they rode the elevator to the lobby, rushed out the second the doors opened, and ignored the looks from the few wanders still milling around.
“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Samuel said, kissing the top of Elle’s head. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she whispered and watched as he climbed into his car and drove away. “He came all the way here just to help me. Because I needed him, because I can’t do it by myself.”
Elle shifted her eyes to Callum, Derek, and Sadie. “I’m ready to go home.”
“Us, too,” Callum said, stretching his hand toward her.
Thirty-two
Elle gripped the top of her cane as she stared at the doors to the conference room, expecting them to open at any moment. Her coffee sat on the table untouched because her hands trembled, and more than once, she thought she would throw up the small amount of lunch she had managed to eat.
The sound of the door handle turning had Elle’s shoulder’s tensing, but relief filled her when Samuel walked into the room. He placed his tablet on the table along with his cell phone before falling into the seat next to her.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“Fucking shit,” he grumbled. “We got the budget for the Smithers project worked out, but it took changing the layout of the first floor completely because they had to have the sliding back door facing the west. It didn’t matter that structurally, it’s safer for it to be north. Stupid mother fuckers.”
“Some people are just too fucking stubborn,” Elle scoffed, dragging her finger along the top of her cane.
“You okay?” Samuel asked, placing his hand on top of hers.
“No,” she admitted. “I should have said no, told them Cal or Derek would handle their account. Why’d I agree to this?”
“Because —” But before Samuel could share his thoughts on the matter, the door to the conference room opened and Shyla Anders, their new receptionist, led Mark, Paul, and Janie Murphy into the room.
“Can I offer anyone anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water,” Shyla suggested.
A young woman of only twenty-two, the blond haired, blue eyes woman had started just two weeks ago, but had taken to the position with gusto. Elle and Samuel interviewed three dozen men and women to fulfill Greta’s shoes, but Shyla came in with confidence and a welcoming smile that reminded Elle of Greta.
“No, thank you,” Janie said, waving her off before she took a seat at the table.
Mark and Paul shook their heads and Shyla left, causing the three Murphy’s to shift their attention to Elle. Taking a deep breath, she gripped her cane and stood up, once again questioning her decision to accept the account a month ago.
Elle and Samuel had only been back to work two weeks when Janie Murphy came by to see Elle, requesting that she build the center dedicated to their parents. Elle had assumed they took their account to another firm, but Janie insisted that they didn’t trust anyone else with their parents’ vision.
“Um, sorry for the delay,” Elle murmured, clearing her throat. “I . . . I’d like . . .” Stammering, her fingers were shaking too much for her to be able to bring up her plans. “Sorry, I, um . . .”
“Elle,” Janie said, drawing her attention. “It’s okay. We’re not in a hurry. Just take your time, and please, try to relax.”
Elle blew out a heavy breath. “I’m trying. I’m just a little out of practice, I guess.”
“Why don’t you just forget the tablet for now, and tell us what your plans?” Mark suggested. “Paint the picture for us.”
“Okay.” Elle set the tablet on the table and gripped the top of her cane as she took a step backward. “When you first came to me and asked me to build a center in honor of your parents, I immediately thought about the recreation center from my hometown. It was the spot for children to go after school. They had classes where you could learn to paint, knit, make pottery, write short stories, but they also had basketball courts, batting cages, a rock climbing wall, and so much more. I have memories of spending my summers there, rushing to take an art class after school, and climbing to the top of that rock wall and ringing the bell.”
Elle picked up her tablet and pulled up her plans, which popped up on the television behind her. “Welcome to the Murphy Actively Center.”
Janie smiled as she stood and walked around the table, stopping in front of the screen. “I like how you have it laid out with the basketball courts on one side and the classrooms on the other. Is this a walking track?” she asked, gesturing to the bold, thick lanes that circled around the courts, overview/upstairs dining area, and in front of the classrooms.
“Yes. There are a lot of older people who enjoy walking, especially in the mornings, but, well, it’s not always safe, or warm enough, so I thought giving them access to a walking lane would give the building even more purpose and help build the community. Also, for moms who want to bring their little ones in for a class, they can get a work out in, yet not have to leave the building.” Elle zoomed in to the top right corner of the screen. “This area would be great for an early morning aerobics class, or even self-defense. The afternoons and evenings could be for tumbling, maybe. We have the option of adding a weight room, as well, if you wanted.”
“Wow, you’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” Mark asked and when Elle looked back at him, he was leaning backward in his chair. “Tell me, Elle, would you enroll your daughters in a class at a place like this?”
“Yes,” she said with confidence. “Especially a self-defense class.”
Mark frowned, but nodded. “Suppose I can understand that. And you think parents would pay to have their children come here?”
“Some will, some won’t,” she admitted. “That really depends on you and how much you’re charging. I’m blessed, Mr. Murphy, to be able to provide my daughters with a lot of experiences other children may not get, but I believe a center such as this would be a wonderful investment for a lot of businesses, who would be willing to offer scholarships to those most in need. Now, a lot of parents are too proud to even ask for help, but for everyone like that, there’s another that is looking for anything to keep their children off the streets, away from gangs and drugs.”
“How soon could you start construction?” Paul asked, placing his hand on the table as he quirked an eyebrow.
“Three months at the latest, but most likely we can break ground in two.”
Paul pressed his lips together as he shifted his attention to Mark, who was staring at Elle with a great amount of intensity. His head barely moved before Paul turned his attention to Janie.
“Of course I agree,” she replied to the unspoken question from her brother.
“Me, too.” Paul stood. “We’d like to get this project moving as soon as possible, Elle.”
“You like my plans?” she asked, her voice shaking just slightly.
“No,” Mark said, drawing her at
tention to him. “We love them. Our parents would have loved everything you’ve got planned for our center. The only request we have is that you include a plaque of dedication to them.”
“Why me?” Elle asked, her emotions getting the best of her. “Any architect in the city would have loved to gotten their hands on this project. Why were you so insistent that it had to be me?”
Mark and Paul shifted their eyes to Janie, who nodded just slightly, just enough for Elle to see.
“You know how we told you our parents died in a car accident?” Paul asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, there was more to it than just an accident,” he said, clearing his throat. “My father had apparently cut off another driver, and the man became enraged. He chased them for more than twenty blocks, honking his horn, and tapping the back of their car. When my father finally stopped, the man jumped out of his car and dragged him out from behind the wheel. He beat my father to death before turning his attention to the other two occupants in the car.”
“Other two?” Elle whispered, her eyes widening as she looked from Paul to Janie, who had her arms wrapped around her torso.
“I was in the car with them,” she said, quietly. “We were on our way to my dance class. We were running late because I couldn’t find my ballet slippers. Daddy had kicked them under the couch. I was furious with him, blamed him for making us late. When the man started chasing us, all I could think was if we hadn’t been late, this wouldn’t have happened.”
Janie dragged her hand over her face and through her hair, trying to hide her tears. “Daddy tried to fight back, but he wasn’t strong enough, I guess. While my father laid helpless on the ground, the man raped my mother in front of me,” Janie whimpered and immediately Paul and Mark were at her side, holding her. “He choked the life out of her and looked back at me, his eyes wild and crazy. He had just reached for my arms when someone pulled up next to his car. He took off running.”
“The police eventually found him hiding in the attic inside his mother’s house. He had a history of assaults and violent car chases,” Mark added. “Janie was traumatized. She would barely say two words to us. She woke up in the middle of the night screaming and crying. Paul and I tried to help, but we couldn’t.”
