What do you do when you feel like you’ve lost something that you only just found? That was the thought going through her head as she sat at her desk for the first time in a week. She wasn’t sure why she even bothered coming in. It was after four in the afternoon, and she hadn’t made it through a set of manuscript notes or sent a single email.

If nothing else, it did get her out of the pajamas she’d been wearing for days and into a shower and clean clothing. Not that it made her feel any better. She was meeting her father for dinner this evening and hoped that she might finally have some answers. She’d texted Gage several more times but still hadn’t heard anything from him.

Was she mistaken in what they had felt for each other? Was it only one-sided? She didn’t believe that. She knew without a doubt that he had fallen just as hard for her as she had for him. She stared at the screen in front of her and read her mother’s obituary again.

---

Elizabeth Ann Yorke, of Manhattan, New York, passed away unexpectedly on Sunday, February 21, 2010, due to injuries sustained in a motor vehicle accident.

Mrs. Yorke was the wife of prominent business man Robert Yorke, owner and CEO of Yorke Publishing House. She was the mother to two beloved children; son, Thomas Robert, and daughter, Hope Elizabeth, both residents of Manhattan.

Mrs. Yorke was born in Burlington, Vermont, on January 25, 1962, the daughter and only child of the late William and Margaret Erickson. She was educated in the Burlington school system and met her husband while attending college at New York State University. Mrs. Yorke supported many charitable organizations throughout the city and will be greatly missed.

Relatives and friends are respectfully invited to attend her calling hours on Thursday, February 25th, from 4 to 8 p.m. at the Paul Webster Funeral Home on West 73rd Street. Funeral and Burial services will be private.

In lieu of flowers, donations in her memory may be made to the Robin Hood Foundation, an organization Mrs. Yorke supported throughout her residence here in Manhattan.

---

There wasn’t a single unusual thing in it. It was much simpler than she would have expected, given her mother’s extensive involvement in charities and foundations throughout the city, but she was certain her father was dealing with more emotional things then. There wasn’t much more she could seem to glean from staring at the obituary, so she closed it and her laptop and decided to leave the office early.

Three hours later, she walked through the front entrance of her father’s building and, after a welcoming nod from the doorman, made her way to the elevator. She pressed the button for the penthouse floor and grabbed onto the handrail as the elevator began its quick climb to the sixtieth floor. Her father kept a house out on the Island but generally spent most of his time in the city for work.

The elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors slid open to a marbled entryway. She stepped out, turned right, and proceeded to his door. There were two penthouse units housed on the top floor, but, of course, her father’s faced the Hudson and all its beautiful views. She used her key to open the front door and stepped inside to another beautifully marbled foyer.

“Hello? Anybody here?” she called out as she walked toward the kitchen. When she was almost there, the door swung open and her father stepped through, a wide smile on his face.

“Hope! Hello, dearest.” He reached her and placed a dry kiss on her cheek, enfolding her in a brief hug, before pulling away but keeping her at arm’s length as he inspected her. “You look tired. I thought the time away at the lake house would be good for you.”

“Hello, Daddy.” She shrugged and turned out of his grasp then walked to the sideboard against the far dining room wall. It was lined with top shelf scotch, vodka, gin, and red wine. “I need a drink. Do you want something?”

“I’ll take a scotch neat. You didn’t answer my question.” He walked up behind her, took the bottle of wine she had in her hands, and moved to open it for her. She switched tasks and poured a glass of the Glenmorangie she knew he preferred. She passed him the glass as he handed her the opened bottle. After pouring herself a glass, she took a long sip and turned to him.

“The lake house was perfect, exactly what I needed.” She sighed deeply and looked past him to the view beyond. The sun had set thirty minutes ago, and the city lights were twinkling in the darkening sky. “Can we sit?”

“Of course.” He started toward the living room area beyond the dining room. “Meghan will have dinner ready for us at eight.”

“I’m not very hungry. I really just wanted to talk to you about Gage Flynn.” She caught the grimace that turned his mouth down for just a moment before he corrected it and nodded. He took a seat in one of the easy chairs as she lowered herself onto the couch across from him.

He took a sip, his eyes peering at hers over his glass as he did, and shook his head as he began to speak. “I didn’t think I’d have to hear or say the name Flynn again.”

Her heartbeat accelerated, and her posture stiffened at his admission. “So, you know Gage?” She was sure her voice had come out as shaky as her nerves.

He shook his head. “No, I’ve never met him, but I know the family.”

“Yes, he said to ask you how mother really died. What was that supposed to mean? How is that connected to him?” She watched as her father drained the remainder of the liquid in his tumbler and set it gently on the side table.

When he looked up at her, his eyes were somber and his brows drawn. “This was something I had hoped to never have to share or burden you with, but I suppose there’s no choice in the matter now.”

He stopped then and turned as Meghan came through the kitchen door with plates and silverware in hand. “Meg, you can set those up in the kitchen if you like. We may be a little while.”

“Of course, Mr. Yorke. No problem.” She smiled, turned, and went back the way she came.

“Your mother wasn’t alone in the car when she had her accident. She had given one of the interns a ride home from the office that day. As you know, the weather was bad, and the student was going home on her own. She was close to your age, I believe. I think your mother felt protective of her.”

---

He looked at her with a sad smile before continuing. “Anyway, she was also in the car when it crashed, and she died, as well. Although, it wasn’t right away. It was a day or two later. Her family blamed your mother for the accident and tried to sue us but lost.” He paused and looked at her, his fingers steepled under his chin. “Her name was Faith Flynn. I have to assume that Gage is related to her.”

Her mouth fell open in small O as her mind tried to process the information her father had just told her, her hand clutching the material above her shattered heart as she nodded her head before answering in a whisper, “Gage is her brother. I met him up in Vermont, and we spent the weekend together.”

Her father’s frown deepened as he shook his head and moved to stand and grab his empty glass. “I need another one.”

She followed his movements as he walked to sideboard, poured himself a hefty drink, and then took a long drink. Instead of moving back to his seat, he walked past it to stand in front of the window and look out over the city. A million questions were running through her head, but she started with the most obvious.

“How did I not know about this? I wasn’t a child when this happened. There wasn’t anything in the papers about another person in the car. Does Tommy know about this?”

He turned around and met her with a pained gaze. “Because the girl was the same age as you… It could have been you. I didn’t want you to have to go through the pain of dealing with that, as well as losing your mother.”

She stood then and began pacing, more questions tumbling from her. “But how did you hide that from me, and then a lawsuit, as well. How could you possibly have kept this out of the news?”

He raised his brows as if the answer was obvious. “Hope, I own one of the largest publication companies in the world. Keeping it out of the news was easy. And then you went back to school where you were busy and away from any of the lawsuit business being handled.”

She stopped pacing and moved to stand in front of him instead. “Why would they blame Mother? Why sue us? I thought it was due to icy road conditions. Is there more that you aren’t telling me?”

He set his drink down on the table and gathered her stiff body in his arms tenderly while speaking softly. “It was the weather. It was an accident, but they wanted someone to blame. They lost their little girl. You didn’t need to deal with all of that.”

She pushed herself out of his embrace and looked up at him. “But now I do have to deal with this. I’ve fallen in love with this man, Daddy. I had no idea that there was a connection to our family, and he feels like I fooled or betrayed him. He won’t talk to me or return my calls.”

“What do you mean? You’ve fallen in love? With this Gage Flynn? How and when could this possibly have happened? You’ve only left Dylan a couple weeks ago.”

She gritted her teeth and felt her skin grow warm at the thought of having to defend her feelings but even more so about discussing Dylan. “Yes, Daddy, I left Dylan after I caught him sleeping with another woman. You seriously didn’t expect me to stay with him after that, did you? I’m sorry if it means you’re a man short of your foursome for Sunday golf games.”

His voice was raised ever so slightly in anger, but his tone was calm as he replied. “Of course, I didn’t expect you to stay with him. My daughter deserves better than that. But am I expected to believe you fell in love with another man in the span of time since you left Dylan?”

“You’ve told me on more than one occasion that you fell in love with Mother the moment you laid eyes on her. Is it so preposterous that the same thing could happen to me?”

She watched as he turned and swiped his glass off the table, bringing it to his lips for a drink before continuing. “Hope, nothing would bring me greater pleasure than to learn you’ve truly fallen in love. But don’t you think you should take some time to let your heart heal before giving it to someone else so quickly? Besides, what do you really know about a man you’ve only spent a few days with?”

A small, sad smile fell across her lips. “Daddy, the one thing I learned in the past week is that I had no idea what real love felt like until I met Gage. My heart is fuller after spending four days with him, and now more broken, than it could have ever been with Dylan.”

He shook his head and turned back to the window. “I think you’re making a mistake, Hope. It’s too soon. Maybe things are better this way. Do you really want his dead sister coming between you? You will only serve as a constant reminder to him of what he’s lost. Sometimes, there are some obstacles that people can’t move past, and it’s just better to let go and move on.”

Her heart skidded to a stop as she listened to her father telling her to give up and move on. “But I love him.”

He turned around and stepped to stand in front of her. “Sometimes, love isn’t enough. I’m sorry, Hope, but it sounds like he’s already made up his mind.”

Tears slid from her eyes as her father’s words sunk in and travelled straight to her heart, filling the cracks like cement and turning it to stone.