Chapter 39
Ellie
It takes everything in me not to break down on my way to Rachel’s.
Because I thought I was…working the night shift…
tonight, I already made arrangements for her to pick Luca up from school and keep him overnight.
Obviously, that’s not going to happen anymore, though I can’t for the life of me understand why.
Damien must have talked to someone, someone who is out to get me, someone who has something against me.
Enough against me that they felt it necessary to completely ruin my life.
“Wait,” I say as I pull up to a stop light. My hands slide off the steering wheel into my lap. “Dylan.”
While I can’t be completely sure that my slimy ex is the culprit, it does seem like something he would do. Especially if he and Damien got in an argument recently about everything Dylan has been doing. It would be entirely in character for him to smear me all over his lies.
But does Damien think so little of me that he would actually believe Dylan Decker, his public nemesis, over me? Surely not…
The light turns green, and I am forced to move on, both from the intersection and my spiraling thoughts. I am not going to walk into my sister’s house a gushing mess. I don’t want Luca to see me that way. I will wait until he is preoccupied with doing something else before I come undone.
Rachel lives in a neighborhood that lies between my little old house and Damien’s sprawling estate. The neighborhood isn’t gated, but every house has a pool and lawn service. You get the picture.
I pull up onto the red stone driveway and park my car in front of the door. Then I take a deep breath before making my way inside.
“I think the key is to make sure it isn’t too full,” Rachel’s voice comes from the kitchen, and I walk in to find my sister showing Luca how to properly construct his next edible slime volcano.
“Yeah, last time, I dumped all of it in and it exploded everywhere,” Luca says with a giggle, and Rachel laughs too.
“I heard about that.”
“It got all over her boss,” he goes on, and I hold my breath, standing still in the foyer. “But he wasn’t even mad.”
“How could he be mad about something this yummy?” She asks, and I take another step closer. The movement catches Rachel’s eye, and she stands up straight.
“Oh, look who it is,” she smiles in confusion.
“Mommy! We are making the orange one this time!” Luca exclaims.
“I see that.” I force a smile, but Rachel knows better.
“I thought you were working late tonight…” she says, and I swallow hard. Her smile is also forced as she looks down at Luca. “Sweetie, just in case it gets a little messy, why don’t you take it out on the back porch.”
“Okay!” Luca rushes off with his slime volcano. And as soon as the patio door slams shut, I break down.
“What in the world?” Rachel rushes over to me as I cover my mouth with my hand, sobbing into it. She ushers me to the couch where we both sit, her arms around me. “What happened? El? What did he do?”
“It’s not what he did,” I blubber. “It’s what I did. Allegedly.”
“Okay…? So what did you allegedly do?” she asks.
And I tell her everything.
“Someone has been stealing concepts, leaking information, and convincing employees of Damien’s to leave his hotels…among other places…to work elsewhere.”
“Other places?” she asks. “What kinds of other places?”
I should have known she would get caught up on that part. But oh well. I guess if I am going to confide in my sister; I am going to have to tell her everything.
“Damien owns a gentlemen’s club,” I say.
“A gentlemen’s club?” she whispers. “You mean like a strip club?”
“That…and…more.”
I look at her, and she studies me. Then it clicks. “Oh…okay. Go on.”
I am impressed by how quickly she accepts what I am saying to get to the point.
“Apparently, Damien is under the impression that I am the one behind all of the betrayal,” I say.
“You? But how could you do any of that?” Rachel sort of laughs. “No offense, but you’re just his assistant. You don’t have that kind of power.”
“I am his personal assistant,” I say softly. “His…all inclusive…personal assistant.”
“All inclusive?” Rachel asks as she sits back. “What…does that…mean, exactly?”
“Exactly the way it sounds,” I admit. “When I got hired, he made it very clear, contractually clear actually, that part of my job was to…be available…to him.”
Rachel stares at me without blinking for long enough that I’m tempted to snap my fingers in her face for some kind of reaction. But then she laughs.
“You’re joking,” she says. “Please tell me you are joking. Sex? Part of your job is to go to gentlemen’s clubs–”
“Club. Singular. The Opal Room.”
“And do whatever he wants?”
“Yeah,” I admit.
“Jesus,” she shakes her head and covers her face with her hands.
“What in the world made you agree to this, El? I mean, I know you wanted back into the hotel business, but what could have possibly made you sign a contract of employment that includes a sex clause with your boss? I mean, how much is the man actually–oh.” She peels her hands from her face and reveals a look of mortification.
“No. El? Please tell me that you did not accept this job because he paid you enough to help me.”
“No,” I shake my head, reaching for my sister. “I mean…” I stop. Fuck. How do I go about this? “At first…the money was…very persuasive.”
“But you didn’t have to prostitute yourself out so that I could have a baby!” she cries out, then covers her mouth. We both peek out the window to see Luca playing with chalk.
“My electricity was turned off, Rache. I have spent the last five years of my life struggling just to hit the poverty line. I am tired of boxed mac and cheese and working at seedy bars and diners where hung over college kids smack me on the ass and ladies with fanny packs snap at me for not bringing them enough ranch dressing for their french fries. And if helping you have the one thing you have always wanted is also possible now? That’s icing on the cake. ”
“So, you’re just doing it for money,” she says, shoving off the couch and pacing.
“No,” I say.
“No?” she asks, still pacing. Then she stops.
“Of course not.” Rachel turns to face me, and I can feel it coming.
She has it figured out. All of it. “You would never do something like that only for money. Because Damien…is the Phantom. Damien is the man you haven’t been able to stop thinking about for six years. He’s Luca’s father…”
I nod, and as my cheeks begin to burn, I realize that I am crying again. “It’s so complicated.”
“Not really,” she says, and her tone has changed. “You’ve been sleeping with your boss as part of your job while I watch your son. If you were simply dating your boss, it would be different. You haven’t been honest with me.”
“How could I tell you?” I ask. “It’s crazy.”
“It is crazy. But what’s even crazier is you couldn’t tell me. And you couldn’t tell him the truth either about Luca. Now it’s all blowing up, and you’re acting like the victim.”
I open my mouth to say something when Luca rushes back in. “Mommy, can we have mac and cheese for dinner?”
I look at Rachel, but she just stares, and I swallow hard.
“Sure honey. We can do that,” I say softly.
I help Luca get buckled before getting in the car. Just as I am about to put the car in drive, he asks, “Can we have Damien’s mac and cheese? It’s the best.”
“Not tonight,” I answer, barely above a whisper.
“When?” he asks.
“I don’t know…”