Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Elle
“Darling, you’re cut off.” My father’s voice has a hard tone of finality to it, one I recognize from hearing him destroy his business adversaries. He’s never used it on me. This has to be a joke.
“Father, be serious!” I cry, batting my eyelashes and giving him the puppy-dog eyes along with the innocent pout I’d perfected growing up under his roof. Growing up motherless, I was a total Daddy’s girl and had always had him wrapped around my pinky finger.
“I am serious.” If looks could kill, his would have. “I’m tired of you getting caught in the middle of every scandal on the upper east side. I’ve been bailing you out of your wacky schemes for years, waiting on you to grow up. But you’re almost thirty, Eleanor, and I’m still waiting.”
“Don’t call me that,” I grumble. Elle is the nickname my father gave me as a child and had long since been the only name I went by. He’s the only one who ever calls me Eleanor and he only ever does that when he’s mad at me. Today, he’s livid. Madder than I’ve ever seen him, and considering my teenage years, that’s saying a lot.
“Brock’s indiscretions are not my fault, Father! I broke off the engagement. What more do you want from me?”
My father scowls, shuffles some folders around on his desk, and picks up a copy of today’s paper from the mess, all but slamming it down in front of me. I wince, already knowing what it says.
When I’d caught my fiancé in bed with another woman, I’d mistakenly thought it was a surprise threesome and climbed in bed with them. How the papers had gotten wind of it, I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t put tipping off the media himself past Brock. Anything to stay relevant. And hey if he could make a few bucks in the process…
I think about all the stories that had run about me over the years and how often I’d shown up in the tabloids since we’d gotten together. The media interest had exponentially increased after he came into my life. I’d thought it was just a coincidence, but now I’m wondering if he’d been the one feeding the tabloids the whole time. It made sense now how they always seemed to show up when we were out and about, whether it was just me going dress shopping or attending a meeting of this or that committee or the two of us going out on a date.
I see it now. I’d been blind. And stupid. Still, there’s no reason for how my father is currently treating me. And while he’s threatened to cut me off before, this time feels serious. Which means I really need to kiss up to get my dad over whatever kick he’s on.
“You can’t cut me off, Father. Be serious. I need the support of my family during this difficult time.”
“I’ve done nothing but support you for your entire life, and where has it gotten you? I was happy when you got engaged to Brock because I thought you’d finally settle down and become a proper member of society.”
“Well, excuse me for not staying with someone who cheated on me!” I holler, then soften, changing tactics. “Father, I’m so sorry I’ve been such a disappointment. You’re right. I’m almost thirty now, and it's far past time to get my life together. I’ll heed your advice and start doing that immediately. I’ll get a real job. Perhaps you have some contacts you could set me up with?”
“No. Eleanor, this discussion is over. Get your life together. Prove to me you can make it on your own without Daddy’s money before your thirtieth birthday and you’ll get your trust. If you can’t manage that, you’ll be cut off for good.” He points at the door, and when I stand, blinking as I try desperately to process what had just happened, he adds, “Your rent is paid through the end of next month. I suggest you get other living arrangements figured out before then.” He looks at me one last time, and for a moment, I see a glimmer of softness there. “You should probably look into that thing Sadie did. Move to that town where they pay women to live there. I don’t know how you’ll make it otherwise.”
“But… but…” I stand sputtering in the doorway, waiting for my father to come to his senses and realize how unreasonable he is being. Instead, he strides across the room and shuts the door, very firmly, in my face.
And as the blast of air hits me, I realize he’s right. Doing what Sadie did is pretty much my only option, no matter how crazy or archaic it may be.
Looks like I’m going to Blue River.