Chapter 5

 

Two Weeks Later

 

Owen scowled at the Sunday evening traffic in front of Lena’s car, simultaneously thanking the other drivers for delaying their progress and wishing he and Lena could just get the evening over with. Lena had insisted on driving, so Wyatt followed behind them in his own vehicle. They had completed their mid-term exams and were now looking forward to spending a relaxing spring break together, but there had been no avoiding their dinner plans for the evening.

“Maybe it won’t be that bad,” Lena said quietly, attempting to ease Owen’s anxiety. “We can leave right after we eat. Besides, it’s a good opportunity to watch him in person. He’s been on that business trip for the past couple weeks. Logan hasn’t been able get anything else on him since that night in the alley, and I’m pretty sure Phelps has actually been avoiding me at work ever since the shooting.”

“So, we’re just supposed to sit there and act like the guy isn’t a liar, a thief, and a murderer? We’re supposed to eat his food and hope it’s not been poisoned or some shit?”

“We don’t know anything for sure, Owen. That’s the problem. If we had evidence of anything, he’d have been arrested by now, so… Let’s just try to take advantage of the opportunity to observe him up close. Watch for anything that might mean he’s high or crashing.”

Owen grunted in reluctant acceptance as the traffic eased and they reached the exit for Phelps’ home. Lena had given her father every argument in her repertoire, but Nate had refused to take no for an answer.

“You need to shake off this issue you have with Jeff. He’s like family, Lena, and he was nice enough to invite us into his home, including Owen. You can make nice for one evening.”

Nate’s sternly spoken words echoed in her mind as they neared Phelps’ estate, and she took a deep breath to center herself. She understood why Owen was anxious, and she was trying like hell not to let her own nerves get the better of her. Phelps would be an idiot to attempt anything underhanded in Nate’s presence. And we’ll leave as soon as possible, Lena reminded herself.

Phelps’ home was every bit as grand as Nate’s. It was situated in the western side of Medina, in a neighborhood of similarly extravagant estates. The property was set back away from the main road, and once they were clear of the tree line, the expansive and perfectly manicured lawn stretched the rest of the distance to the house. Lena parked behind her father’s SUV on the bricked driveway and reached over to squeeze Owen’s hand.

“Let’s just get it over with, okay?”

He nodded and took her hand again once they were out of the vehicle, fighting the urge to toss her back in the car and lead-foot it all the way back to their apartment. Wyatt indicated he would wait outside and asked Lena to text him when they were ready to leave.

They rang the doorbell and were greeted by Phelps’ dour-faced housekeeper, whose name Lena couldn’t recall. The older gentlemen were sitting together at one end of the dining room table, and both stood to welcome the new arrivals. Nate gave Lena a cautious hug and shook Owen’s hand while Phelps greeted them with his usual benign Southern charm.

“Sorry we’re late,” Lena apologized with false sweetness. “The traffic was heavier than we expected for a Sunday night.”

“No harm done, dear, we were just discussing my trip,” Phelps replied smoothly.

She shuddered slightly at the unwelcome term of endearment and thanked Owen for pulling out her chair. He intentionally took the seat between her and Phelps, which happened to be directly across from Nate.

“No Madalyn this evening?” Nate asked as the kitchen staff began to fill the table with food.

“No. She went with me to London, so she had a lot of things to catch up on before the start of the work week tomorrow.”

“I see. Well, be sure to tell her she was missed,” Nate smiled. “I think Owen is working in your department at the moment, if I’m not mistaken. In addition to his work on the Everett re-org.”

“That’s correct,” Owen nodded. His expression was neutral as he filled Lena’s plate and then his own. She gave him a subtle smile of gratitude.

“And doing quite well, by all accounts,” Phelps nodded. “I’ve heard a lot of great things from those you’ve worked with so far as well. Gary Martin in particular is very impressed with your work on that project, and he certainly isn’t one to be liberal with his praise.”

“That was kind of him.”

A mildly awkward silence fell upon the table while everyone tucked into their meals. Owen was torn between wariness of potential poison and the desire to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. The conversation ebbed and flowed throughout the meal, but for the most part, both Lena and Owen remained silent. Lena kept a sharp eye on Phelps, looking for indications that he might be under the influence of some mind-altering substance. Owen, on the other hand, watched both men with equal curiosity.

The dinner was more intimate than any previous occasion in which he had been around both Nate and Phelps at the same time, and Owen was hoping for some insights into their friendship. He’d lain awake more than once over the last few months, puzzling over Nate’s blindness when it came to Jeffrey Phelps. Owen couldn’t understand what would make him so unwilling to contemplate, even for a moment, that Phelps might be less honorable than he seemed. What would make Nate so certain of the man’s nature and loyalties that he would refuse to listen to his own daughter’s concerns?

As Owen watched the two men, his attention shifted directly across the table at Nate with increasing frequency, and he found himself analyzing the expressions of the man he had come to know rather well over the last few months. Phelps was telling a funny story about attempting to negotiate a bar tab in a London pub, and Nate was listening intently. There was an odd sort of gleam in Nate’s eye at one point, and Owen could see much more than appreciative humor in his expression. There was true, deep affection there and, if Owen wasn’t mistaken, more than a hint of… longing? More pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place as he continued to watch Nate, bringing the ‘big picture’ into sharper focus.

Nate didn’t just think of Phelps as a close family friend. He loved him. And not in a platonic way.

Holy shit.

Owen tried to shift his focus to something else, but now that he’d seen it, he couldn’t un-see it. Nate’s common sense as well as his better instincts had been inhibited by love. Unrequited love, so far as Owen could tell. He wasn’t sure Phelps even had any idea of Nate’s true feelings.

While he was a little surprised at how well Nate had been able to hide it, Owen had no trouble understanding why he’d kept such a secret. Nathaniel Gardner was a big name in the field aeronautics, which was an international industry. Aside from what the views of the rest of the world might be, same-sex marriage was still illegal in most states. It had been only a month ago that the governor of Washington had signed legislation establishing full marriage rights for same-sex couples. Much of society was still too narrow-minded to accept a gay man in such a position of wealth and power, and for Nate to be open about his sexuality would have most likely jeopardized a great deal from a professional standpoint.

When the conversation lulled again, Owen forced himself to push this latest revelation to the back of his mind so he could focus on the present. He glanced to his left to see Lena pushing her food around her plate in silence.

“I’m sure Lena would love to hear about the sightseeing you were able to do last week. She’s always wanted to go to London,” Nate announced.

Lena felt Owen’s hand on her thigh and reached beneath the table to cover it with her own. She’d watched Phelps intently since they’d taken their seats, and she’d seen no obvious signs of drug use. She wasn’t sure whether that made her feel better or worse about the situation, but she was still as eager as ever to go home. Nate’s attempt to pull her into the conversation was almost embarrassingly transparent. Clearly, her father wasn’t about to let her give Phelps the silent treatment in his own home, but for once, Lena had no intention of playing the role of the gracious socialite.

“Well, I spent most of my time working, but Madi and I did manage to see a few sights. What are you most interested in seeing there, Lena?”

“Too many things to list, I’m afraid. I could probably spend a solid month just wandering from one landmark to another and never set foot in the same place twice,” she replied coolly. She’d spoken the truth, but her tone did not invite further discussion. Owen could hear her underlying frustration, but Phelps didn’t seem to notice.

“I know what you mean. There were at least a dozen more places I’d have liked to visit, but there simply wasn’t enough time. We made the rounds with the typical tourist attractions, but there were a few less popular stops as well. I particularly enjoyed the Dickens Museum on Doughty Street.”

“That is the only one of his London homes still in existence,” Lena nodded, drawn to the topic in spite of herself. “It’s where he wrote Oliver Twist and Nicholas Nickleby.”

“That’s correct. They had a few manuscripts on display, among other things. The most entertaining part wasn’t the exhibition though,” Phelps said, leaning forward with his elbows on the table and his hands clasped near his face. “Someone on the tour got into an argument with the tour guide over the works of someone named William Thackeray. Now, I didn’t study much literature in college, so I didn’t follow a lot of the discussion, but the poor kid leading the tour let his frustration get the best of him and ended up losing his job for being rude to the tourist.”

“Thackeray was Dickens’ most notable rival amongst his contemporaries. His work was mostly satirical. They ran in the same social circles, and there was something of a feud between them. They both started as journalists and published many of their works at about the same time. They were vying for the same audience, but it would be like comparing Anne Rice to Stephanie Meyer or Tolkien to Martin… There are enough readers for everyone.”

Owen and Nate both smiled at her, and to Lena’s surprise, so did Phelps.

“You speak very passionately about literature. You have a gift for it, I’d say. Perhaps you should be a writer,” he suggested, raising his glass to her before bringing it to his lips.

“That she does, but she’s destined for greater things. My Lena will run GC someday,” Nate declared proudly. Phelps feigned surprise.

“Oh… I had the impression that wasn’t something you were interested in, dear.”

“And what gave you that impression?” Lena replied, her irritation beginning to seep into her tone. Phelps gave his usual complacent smile as he answered.

“I’ve known you for a long time, and you’ve worked at GC for a few years now. I’ve read the emails you write, listened to you talk… You have a great deal of passion, and you’re very eloquent. I always assumed you would be more likely to go into something that involved creative writing or maybe even politics.”

“I have no desire to go into politics,” she shook her head, barely refraining from rolling her eyes. Nate caught the exception in her words, however, and wasn’t ready to let the subject drop.

“You said not politics, but… creative writing?”

Lena stared back at her father, searching for the reassuring words she’d delivered on more than one occasion. Of course I want to follow in your footsteps and make you proud. Of course I want to run GC, Dad. I’d never let you down, would I? But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, when she opened her mouth, something entirely different came out.

“Does it really matter what I want at this point? It never has before.” Her tone was more bitter than she’d intended, and once again, she felt Owen’s hand on her thigh beneath the table, seeking to reassure her with his touch.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Nate demanded rather loudly.

“It means that you’ve already decided what my future is going to be regardless of how I feel about it, Dad.”

Lena practically spat the words at him, for once not caring what effect they might have on him. Nate looked bewildered and irate, but before he could deliver a rebuttal, Phelps cleared his throat pointedly.

“If you’d like some privacy for this discussion, feel free to use my study. Owen and I can chat for a little while.”

“No, it’s f—”

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea,” Nate interrupted her.

He stood up from the table, and Lena sighed loudly before doing the same. Owen winced sympathetically at her as she turned to leave the room. He raised a brow as though to ask whether she would like him to come with them, but Lena shook her head dismissively. Her frustration was now rolling off of her in waves, and Owen wondered if she was finally going to be honest with her father about what she wanted for herself and for her life. While it might not have been the opportune time and place for the discussion, Lena couldn’t bring herself to care about impropriety. She had finally had enough of pretending to be someone she wasn’t.

Once she and Nate had left the dining room, presumably in the direction of Phelps’ study, Phelps finished off his glass of wine and beckoned one of the kitchen staff to start clearing the table. Owen glanced at Lena’s plate, seeing that she hadn’t eaten much, but he didn’t argue. The sooner they could get out of there, the better. He would make sure she ate something else when they got home.

“Pardon my poor manners, Owen,” Phelps apologized as he pulled a cell phone from his pocket. “My daughter isn’t the only one playing catch-up after our travels last week, I’m afraid. You never realize how many emails you get every day until you stop checking them for a little while. I didn’t have time to read anything but the high priority ones last week.”

Owen nodded and waved off his apology, allowing his eyes to wander around the ornately decorated room as he waited for his girlfriend and her father to return.

 

 

Nate led Lena down a long hallway of lacquered hardwood to Phelps’ study, striding purposefully into the middle of the room while she closed the door behind them. When he reached the heavy mahogany desk, he wheeled around to face her, frowning in irritated confusion.

“What the hell was that all about?”

“Do we really have to discuss it right now? Here?”

“Yes, I think we do. You basically just told me that running GC isn’t what you want to do at all.”

“It never was,” she said simply. The admission slipped from her lips more easily than she would’ve expected. She felt simultaneously nauseated in anticipation of his reaction and almost weightless with a sense of liberation. Nate looked flabbergasted.

“Then why didn’t you ever say that?”

“When was I supposed to say that, Dad? When you started grooming me at sixteen? When you were talking about how much you counted on me and how much you trusted me to do right by your company? Or maybe while you were bragging to anyone who would listen about how I’m such a natural at the business?”

“You are a natural,” he defended. “I’d never seen anyone so competent at your age, at least not until I met Owen.” Lena shook her head in exasperation.

“Owen’s more your protégé than I am these days. Why don’t you just leave the company to him or hire him as the CEO when you retire? He’s more than capable of handling it, so why not?”

“Because you’re my daughter! It makes sense to pass it to you. It started as a family-oriented business, and that’s how I want it to stay.” Nate suppressed the rest of his thoughts, remembering that although Owen had asked for his blessing to marry her, he hadn’t gotten around to asking her yet. Once they were married, Nate expected Owen to be even more involved with GC.

“And what about what I want, Dad? Do you care about that at all?” She realized she was shouting at that point, but she couldn’t seem to reign in her temper.

“Of course I care, but be reasonable. You’ve been training for a future at GC for three years. More than that, if you count all of the discussions we’ve had at home since I first started the company. This was always the plan! If you didn’t like it, then you should’ve said something about it long before now. What the hell am I supposed to do with this information now?!”

“Maybe listen for a change? There’s a radical idea! Maybe stop talking and thinking about what you want and actually listen to what I’m saying. Actually care whether or not I’m happy with ‘the plan.’”

Nate gazed across the room at his daughter as though he didn’t recognize her, utterly speechless at her outburst. Lena could see the hurt in his eyes and felt her resolve begin to crumble. Her chest ached, and the tenuous grip she had on her emotions started to falter. She didn’t want to cry in front of him.

“We can talk about this another time,” she mumbled. “This isn’t the place.” Lena turned to leave him standing in the middle of the room. Fuck, I just need to get out of here.

“Lena!” he called. But she didn’t turn around.

She’d just crossed the threshold when it happened.

There was a deafening sound and an overwhelming surge of heat and energy…

And the world went dark.