by Dylan Allen
My stomach drops.
I have 70 voicemails and over 100 text messages. All of them from my mother and sisters. My hands shake as I open the first five text messages from Milly.
Milly: Addie, call me back. I need to talk to you right away
Milly: What in the world? Is your phone off?
Milly: Addie, they know who you are.
Milly: Addie, have you seen the news?
Milly: OMG, Addie, why are you doing this? PLEASE CALL ME BACK!!!!!
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I’ve stopped walking to read the texts, and Simon is standing there looking at me with concern marring his face.
“What?” I ask dumbly, unable to process his question and the messages I’ve just read.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. I can see your hands are trembling, and you just stopped walking. What are you reading?”
I don’t know why, but in a move I will soon come to regret I lie.
“Oh, sorry. It’s work. Something is wrong with the numbers in my report. I need to go into the office right now.”
“For real? How the hell did that happen? Did finance give you bad data?” Simon tries to read my phone screen over my shoulder. I drop my phone back in my purse and whirl to face him.
“I don’t know.” I try to school my expression. “Why don’t you grab a taxi home, and I’ll grab one to the office. I’ll call you later?”
“No, I can come with you. I have a feeling Matthew is behind this, and I don’t want you going in without me.”
“Simon, I don’t need you to come to the office to fight Matthew for me.” I know my tone is harsh, but I am panicking and trying to get out of here so I can read the rest of the text messages and listen to the voicemails to see what the fuck is going on.
“I am not going to fight him, Addie,” his response is clipped, and I know I’ve hurt his feelings, but I don’t have time to sort this out right now.
“I didn’t mean literally. Look, I should have been there yesterday, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you.” Without waiting for his response, I turn on my heel and run out of the station.
I jump into a black cab and give him my address. I pull my phone back out. I decide to not bother to read the text or listen to the voicemails, I just dial Milly’s number.
She answers before the first ring was complete.
“Addie! What the fuck?” She shouts into the phone. “Where have you been? The whole world is on fire and you just disappear?” Milly never, ever curses. I know something is terribly wrong.
“Milly, I was in Paris for the weekend. My phone was off. Your hysterics are not telling me anything. What happened?”
“Someone leaked your real name to the press. There was a breaking story on Friday that the daughter of Omar Hassan is living in London under the name Adelaide Dennis. They found the rest of us, too. Don’t go to your apartment, the press is camped out waiting for you.”
My heart already thundering, starts to beat like a bass drum in my chest. I press mute and tell the cab driver I’ve had a change of plans and rattle off the address to my office.
“Addie! Did you hear me?”
“Yes, Milly, I did!” I snap, adrenaline now taking over.
“I am in the back of a cab headed to my house, I had to give the cab driver a new address. What the hell is happening?”
“Did you not watch any TV this weekend? I mean, they have entire profiles on our family running on CNN. The reporters have been hounding us all. Mom has come to stay with us. The only one they haven’t found is Lilly because apparently her address is unlisted.”
“Milly, I need to read the rest of my text messages, listen to voicemails, and just see what the hell is happening. I promise I’ll call you back.”
“Addie, I am so sorry. You have been the focus of the story, darling. They might be at your office, too. I know they were on Friday.”
“My office? What?” I clutch my chest. I feel like I am in a vortex.
“Milly, I have to go. I will call you back.” And without waiting for her response, I hang up.
I start scrolling through my text messages and I know nothing will be the same. There is only one message from Jack, but it’s straightforward.
Jack Westin: Please come to the office as soon as you receive this. Use the service entrance.
It’s a good thing I am on my way there now. I realize my cab driver is watching me intently from his rearview mirror. When our eyes meet, he squints like he is trying to determine whether or not his eyes are playing tricks on him.
“Can I help you?” I snap. He is young, no older than thirty, someone whose heritage, like mine, is unclear at first glance.
“Yeah. You look just like the girl they’ve been talking about all weekend. The one who is the daughter of the guy who robbed all of those people and disappeared.” The excitement in his voice makes me extremely nervous.
“They’re looking for ya’,” he says in an accent that tells me he is a native Londoner.
Suddenly he lifts his hip off his seat and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. “Fuckin’ hell. They’ll pay for a pic of you, man. You’re in my fuckin’ cab.”
We are at a red light on Euston Road when he turns around to snap a picture of me on his phone. Facing forward again, his fingers are flying across his phone’s keyboard. His tongue hanging out of his grinning mouth as he mutters about this being his “lucky day”.
I grab my bags and take advantage of us being stopped to hop out of the cab. “Hey! You haven’t paid the fare, you fucking bitch! You’re a thief just like your fucking father!” he screams after me as I slam the door and run down the street.
I reach into my bag for my phone to order an Uber. My first swipe through with my hand proves fruitless. I stop at a Starbucks at the corner and put my bag down on the table to rummage through it.
My phone is not inside. I pat myself down. Even while I am doing this I know it’s a waste of time. I’ve left my phone in the back of the cab.
FUCK!
I open my rolling suitcase and pull out my MacBook. I open up my browser and click the Find my iPhone feature on my computer. I choose the option to erase my phone. It may be gone, but at least I know the information on it is, too.
I slump down into the chair at the table where I’ve set up camp and force myself to take a deep breath. I need to catch another cab and find a way to get to the office.
I want to call Simon so badly, but I have no idea what to say. I start to close my browser, but decide to see what Milly was talking about and Google myself.
I have to put my hand over my mouth to silence my cry of distress.
The immediate search returns are dozens of news stories on every major UK news outlet about me.
They have headlines like “Missing Enron Heiress Hiding in Plain Sight,” or “Do Enron heiresses know where their father is?”
Heiress? What the hell are they talking about?
My picture from a social media account I haven’t used in years is everywhere. There is also my picture from the LaSalle and Willis’ website.
This spurs me into action again. I rush back outside and hail another cab. This time, I pull my collar up and use my scarf as a head cover.
The cabdriver doesn’t seem the least bit interested in me and as soon as I give him the address of my office, he turns the music in the cab up and pulls away from the curb.
Less than ten minutes later, we are outside my office, and as instructed I have him drop me off around the back of the building.
As we round the building, I see a sea of reporters camped outside the front and I feel a rapid and acute sense of panic. I can’t believe this. It’s my biggest nightmare come true. Everything I’ve been running from has caught up with me.
My weekend in Paris with Simon might as well have happened in another lifetime. I feel the crushing weight of fear sitting on my chest like an elephant.
The cabdriver calls out our arrival and I hand him a ten pound note, mumbling
for him to keep the change. Then I step out of the cab and go to face my fate.
November 30, 2014
My ride up the elevator is interminable. As soon as I step off onto our floor, I know this is not an ordinary Sunday at the office. Normally, there are a handful of junior associates and some partners working, but it looks like a Monday morning here.
The office is packed with people. Initially no one notices my arrival, but as I approach my office, Taylor sees me and calls my name. She might as well have blown a whistle. The entire floor turns in my direction. Conversations halt and all eyes are on me.
“Addie, where in the world have you been?” Taylor says. I bite back an irritated growl at her question. Everyone knew I was going to be in Paris for a long weekend.
I don’t answer her inane question, but simply say, “Is Jack here?”
“Of course he is. Everyone’s here. There is a shit storm swirling around you. Why didn’t you tell me? You could have trusted me.”
I stare at her blankly. She has treated me with nothing but disdain since I came to work at the firm and we’re certainly not confidantes.
I continue my walk to my office without responding. Her ever present sneer returns. She clearly has decided that whatever she now knows about me confirms her long held suspicions.
“Jack is in your office,” she clips at me as I pass her.
I’m actually grateful for her heads up because it gives me a moment to prepare myself. I pause to take a deep breath before I walk into my office.
Jack is seated at my desk, working on my computer when I walk in.
He looks up at me and clearly is not surprised to see me. He must have had word as soon as I walked into the building.
“Adelaide, please sit down.” He points to the seat on the other side of my desk. I hesitate for only an instant before I do as he asks.
“Now, I am sure you had your reasons for hiding your identity. I do wish you’d felt like I was someone you could have confided in though.”
He looks at me with eyes full of sympathy and sadness. I try desperately to stop my eyes from filling with tears, but I can’t. I know he is about to deliver a blow I will have no choice but to absorb, but is going to bring me to my knees.
“You’re one of the brightest young lawyers I’ve met in my entire career. I believe you could have gone very far in this office. I would have been your champion.”
He is speaking in past tense. Tears, hot and unchecked, spill down my cheeks.
“We have been in full damage control. We were completely blindsided by the news and now the press interest. And of course Montiva’s General Counsel is uncomfortable with us as their outside counsel if you are part of not just the team, but the firm.”
I feel like I have been hit in the chest with a sledge hammer. A sound I don’t even recognize escapes from my chest.
“Now, I think he is overreacting, but this is the biggest deal the city has ever seen, the firm won’t walk away from it to save you.”
I sit there, my head bowed, shoulders shaking from the sobs I am trying to control.
“But I talked to the firm’s global management team, and we think we have a solution.”
My head whips up. Hope making an audacious rebound at his words.
“Our New York City office has an opening. We can send you there, which means you can stay with the firm. But London is not viable. The British are a lot less tolerant of scandal than the Yanks are. They actually think your uh… notoriety… will bring in business. You have to decide today. Not right now, but today. If you decide, you will leave for New York tomorrow and start in their offices next week after some media training. “
I can’t process what he is saying. Leave London? Leave Simon? But if I stay I don’t have a job. Isn’t that who I am? My career is the most important thing in my life. Isn’t it?
“Adelaide.” He pulls his glasses off and comes to stand in front of me. “You’re a good lawyer. An honest one that I believe in. I have stuck my neck out on this for you, so please think carefully about what you do next. You won’t find another offer in London, and you might find a hard time finding a firm in the States as prestigious as ours willing to take you on.”
He pats my shoulder as he steps around me and out of my office. Leaving me here to face my demons and myself, alone.
December 1, 2014
I have had no way to reach Simon, I have been forbidden from entering Montiva’s offices. My flight is leaving in less than four hours. So I just go straight to his apartment.
I know on a Monday morning my chances of catching him are slim to none. I have written a letter with my new number, my mother’s phone number and address, and my new email address in it. I apologize for everything and beg for his forgiveness.
I know I have a lot of explaining to do to Simon and his family.
I climb the stairs, the letter clutched in my left hand, my right hand clutching the rail.
When I reach his door, I knock three times and am about to give up and put the note under the mat when the door flies open.
Mercy’s face, set in a cheerful greeting, quickly changes to one of stony anger when she sees me. She is holding Henry in her arms and when he sees me, he reaches out for me.
“What are you doing here?” Her tone is clipped, her accent even more pronounced than normal.
She steps back, putting me out of Henry’s reach, and I drop the arms I have raised in anticipation of holding him.
“I… I was coming to leave this for Simon. I am leaving the country.”
“Fleeing, are you?” Her harsh words are like a slap across the face.
“No, I—”
She cut me off before I can say any more.
“I’m glad you’re going. That boy has had more than his share of criminals and liars in his life. The last thing he needs is another faithless woman playing with his emotions and his heart.”
Each word is like the lash of a whip against my skin.
It takes every ounce of strength I have to open my mouth and speak without crying. I look her in the eye. My voice surprisingly steady in the face of her verbal assault. I try to remember why I came there.
“I came to give him this letter. If I could leave it with you, I would be grateful.”
She snatches it from me and puts in her apron pocket.
“Oh, I’ll give it to him. But he won’t believe whatever lies you’ve written. We have read all about you in the paper. Watched the story about your family. Good luck finding a new place to run your little con.”
And without another word or me getting to one last sniff, touch, or kiss from Henry, she slams the door in my face.
I stand there for a long moment. My feet glued to the mat.
Did that really just happen? Does Simon really believe the things Mercy said about me? Why wouldn’t he? I lied to him. Repeatedly. What else would he believe?
I can only hope when he reads the letter he will know I love him more than I have ever loved anyone. I pray he will be able to forgive me.
With one last glance at the door, I turn away to run down to my waiting cab and head to the airport.
December 1, 2014
We came home from Paris and as soon as she ran off at the train station the world blew up.
I thought her behavior was bizarre, but I know how serious she takes her work. It wasn’t until I got home and Kyle practically jumped me that I knew she had lied to me.
So, Addie’s father is the most wanted white collar criminal in modern history. The news was full of the story of her father’s treachery and disappearance, and how his family practically disappeared, too.
Apparently the FBI had been helping them hide and had given them new identities. Someone had uncovered her identity and called CNN with the tip of the century the Friday we left for Paris.
We spent last weekend in blissful ignorance while back in England her entire life was imploding.
Adelaide Dennis was Adelaide Efua Hassan.
I spent one day being angry she hadn’t told me who she was. Then, when I tried to call her my anger turned to worry and then blind panic when her number rang endlessly before it was disconnected the next morning.
I showed up at work to find reporters camped out outside Montiva, apparently waiting for her. As soon as I walked in, I was summoned into a staff meeting.
Our CEO advised us that due to concerns with the integrity of lawyer assigned to the case, LaSalle and Willis had removed “Miss Dennis” from the case and we would be working directly with a partner for the remainder of the case.
I was shocked. What the hell did Addie’s integrity have to do with her father’s crimes?
I looked across the room and caught Matthew staring at me. When our eyes met, he grinned and winked, which is when I knew.
It was him.
Somehow he managed to unearth Addie’s secret and had decided to use it as a weapon to try and destroy her career.
My temper boiled over. I was going to make this spineless man pay for thinking he could fuck with Addie’s life for kicks.
When the meeting was over, I walked over to him as he was leaving the room. I didn’t care everyone in upper management was here, I grabbed his arm as he tried to walk past me.
“You piece of shit!” I hissed at him as I stood toe to toe with him.
“Get your hands off me!” he returned loudly.
Heads immediately turned in our direction. He thought the attention would deter me. Yet, it was exactly what I wanted.
“You did this. How did you know who she was?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about. You’re crazy!” He scoffed as he tried to pull out of my grip.
I released his arm, and instead grabbed his lapels and slammed him against the door.
“How did you know, Matt?” I slammed him against the door again, this time his head bounced off the frame.
No one intervened, they all seemed too shocked to move as they watched the scene play out in from to them.
“Someone call security and get this maniac off me!” His eye darted around me wildly.
