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Damn it to hell.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ELLY

THE SWEATERand change of clothes Marley gave me last night when I switched rooms is definitely a godsend against the chill in the house this morning and I wrap the sweater tight around the layer of clothes I have on underneath it.

The power in the house went out last night after midnight. I woke up at one point in the night to a lot of footsteps and whispers in the hallway about hooking things up and keeping the fireplaces stoked. When I stuck my head out the door, Marley gave me an extra blanket and told me to keep my door open to let the warmth from the fireplaces in the bedroom.

I don’t know how many fireplaces there are in the house, but even with every one of them burning, it’s still pretty chilly. The air is thick with the smell of bacon, and I quietly walk past the kitchen to the little library I found when I gotturned around in the maze of hallways last night.

My phone is almost dead and all the chargers they have don’t fit my phone, so I need to call my dad before it shuts down. I finally find the sitting room slash library and softly push the door to behind me. It’s a warm, cozy little room with bookshelves built into the walls, and an oversized, plush chair with a little side table and lamp sitting next to the large picture window.

If I were building a home, this is what I would want my office to be like.

The window in this room faces the east, and the sky is just starting to turn gray over the tops of the trees. Hoping my father is up, I tap his contact and listen to the trilling on the line while I cross my fingers.

Just as I think voicemail is going to pick up, the line connects. “Elly?” His voice is groggy and in my mind I can see him sitting up and putting his feet on the floor just as I hear the click of the bedside lamp.

“Hey, dad. Sorry to call so early.” He doesn’t say anything, so I go on. “I just want to touch base with you before my phone goes dead.” I recount everything that happened yesterday, leaving out the cut on my head.

He is quiet for so long that I pull my phone away from my face to see if the line is still connected. Just as I’m about to ask if he’s still there, I hear a sigh before he says, “I knew I should have sent Harris with you.”

My heart sinks and I try to do what I always do; push the hurt feelings at his lack of faith in me deep down and lock them away.

Maybe it’s frustration because of my predicament, or maybe it’s seeing the confidence that little girl has in her dad and the love he has for her making it difficult to control the anger that’s bubbling up and refusing to be ignored.

Clearing my throat, I lick my lips that suddenly feel dry. “Why dad?”

He quickly shoots back, “Harris would have had enough foresight to not get stuck. How do you expect to do business under those circumstances?”

Balling my hand into a fist while trying to sound calm, I say, “Perhaps this is a good thing, it allows me to get close to them so I can convince them.”

The half-laugh, half-huff that comes through the line is like a punch to the face. “This is why women shouldn’t be in business. I thought I had taught you better than this, Elly. Harris would have made it known they don’t have a choice, he would have done the job on the first visit.”

His attack on my sex while berating my character snaps something inside of me. “Is this how it’s always going to be, dad? Will I always be ‘less-than’ because I’m a woman?”

“Hysterics will not solve this, Elly. I told you how important this deal is.” He sounds angry. I can’t say I wasn’t expecting it.

What really angers me is if a male employee had called and told him the same damn story, they would have had a brainstorming session on how to turn it in their favor. But because it’s me, it’s hysterics and failure.

Gray’s mention of the letter he received in December with my name on it has been bugging me since yesterday. “Did you have any part of the letter with my name on it that was sent out in December?”

“There have been numerous letters sent. What difference does it make which one your name was on?”

“Dad, I wasn’t read into this assignment until January, why did they get a letter with my name on it before then?”

I can almost see him rubbing his forehead with his fingers and thumb as he mumbles to no one in particular. “Just like a woman to focus on irrelevant details instead of getting the job done.”

“It’s not irrelevant dad, my name on that letter put a wedge in this deal before they even met me. If I had been involved from the start, I would have made sure they didn’t have a name they could focus on. Whoever sent the letter hindered the negotiation.”

“If you were good at what you do, a letter would be irrelevant, you would have closed this already.” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. “You are not there on vacation, and you are certainly not there to make nice with the natives. You should have wrapped this up on day one and came home.”

My phone decides at that moment to let me know it’s about to shut down. “Dad, my phone is about to die. I’ll be back as soon as the roads are passable.” I don’t give him a chance to respond, I end the call and set my phone on the table next to the chair.

Slowly lowering myself onto the chair, I rest my elbows on my knees as I cover my mouth with my fingers. The view from the window is gorgeous, and under different circumstances, I would enjoy watching the sky gradually lighting up, even though it’s still cloudy and gray out. Each minute creates a different shade through the clouds, each one unique, never to be exactly the same again.

How long has my day-to-day been exactly the same? My goal has always been to try to get sustenance from an empty well, to get love from a man who has no love to give. I deluded myself into thinking I could be different, that he would eventually see something in me and I would strike gold.