And that worried her more than anything. She shoved the thought as far away as possible. “I’d rather hear about you. I’m sure you had a much more interesting day.”
Vic hummed noncommittally before taking another bite of pie. “It was fine.”
“How are you getting on with the designs for the bathroom upgrade you were looking at?” Ellie asked with a smile. Vic had inherited her stunning Georgian townhouse near Hampstead Heath from her granny, and she adored it. The last time Ellie had visited her there, she’d had big plans for a freestanding claw-foot bath.
“It’s on hold for now.”
“Really? I thought?—”
“It’s not the right time,” Vic said firmly, cutting off that conversation. “I’m focusing on other things.”
“Oh. Right.” There was a lot to do in a house that old. “If you want help?—”
“No, thanks.”
Okay…. Ellie searched for something else to ask. She was tired and her body ached, and somehow this conversation was way harder than she’d expected. She’d been so glad to see Vic, but now she just wanted to go back to her comfy sofa. Luckily, there was always work. “Did you get those storyline notes I sent through? Has Duane got the team making the changes?”
Victoria stiffened, just a fraction, but Ellie knew her too well for her to hide it. “They’re doing what you asked,” Vicsaid, although she didn’t sound thrilled. “I agree the first drafts weren’t perfect, but I think there’s something in those original outlines. I think we can take the story somewhere a little darker. Add in some real threat. Real danger.”
“Of course there has to be danger,” Ellie agreed. “But this is a romance. There has to be some hope.”
“Players will think it’s more realistic?—”
Ellie shook her head. “Not our players. There’s enough reality in the world. This is about creating an escape. Somewhere deadly but also beautiful. Somewhere there’s a chance to make it out alive with the person you love at your side.”
“Mm-hmm.” Vic swirled her spoon through her bowl, watching it move as if the melting ice cream was deeply fascinating, before looking up once more. “Hey, did your father call?”
Ellie blinked. The complete change in subject was disorienting. But also… it made her think perhaps the more combat-based storylines hadn’t been quite as unintentional as she’d thought.
She focused on Vic’s question and forced herself to smile, aiming for casual, even while knowing she couldn’t completely hide her response. Vic almost certainly already knew her father hadn’t called—and she’d know how much it hurt.
Ellie had spent years trying—and failing—to be the perfect daughter. A daughter worthy of attention.
But her dad hadn’t come to visit her when she lay in A&E, the heartbeat monitor beeps discordant in her ears, wading through a sea of pain after her accident. He sent a note saying that hospitals were too difficult for him, and he hoped she felt better soon. It hadn’t helped her feel better in any way, and she didn’t bother telling him she was going back in for more tests today. There was only one reason for Vic to bring him up now. “Did he come to the office?”
Vic nodded slowly.
“I guess he was disappointed I wasn’t there, working to sell the game,” Ellie said quietly.
“Yes, he came to talk to you about Silver Wolff,” Vic said, studiously avoiding her eyes.
Of course he did. After all these years of Ellie trying to be the daughter he needed, he’d finally shown an interest in her… and it wasn’t even an interest inher. And then another terrible thought occurred to her. “Vic, is that why you’re here? After I spent the day in hospital? To try to convince me to sell?”
“No!” Vic dumped her bowl on the table and stood. “No. I was worried about you! I wanted to check on you. I didn’t want you here all alone. I just thought—” She let out an exasperated grunt and strode toward the folding doors to look out at the dark garden.
Ellie blinked against the tears in her eyes. Hell. She was too tired to deal with any of this. Just thinking about selling made her want to go back to bed and pull the covers over her head.
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked up at her precious fan art. She wanted to keep the community she’d been building, not give it all away. “I really don’t think this sale would be good for us. I think it would be better?—”
Vic spun back roughly enough to cut off Ellie’s words. “The sale has to go ahead.”
Ellie looked across at her, the space between them wider than it had ever been. “What does that mean? Has to?”
Vic cleared her throat. “Everyone has worked too hard to lose this opportunity. Don’t you think it’s time to take the reward for all that work? Don’t you think it’s time to really live, not just slowly die chained to a desk?”
Ellie rubbed at the building ache in her chest. Of course she’d thought about the things Vic was saying. She needed a betterbalance in her life. But she needed to make this decision for the right reasons.
A memory rose. Of flying down the steep road with the wind in her face, the thrill of speed and freedom sending joyful adrenaline sparkling through her blood. The group of cyclists around her—some she knew, some down from London for the day—mirrored her joy. Their faces were half hidden by helmets and sunglasses, any exposed skin flushed with hard exercise and exhilaration. She was in the lead. Usually she was content cycling somewhere in the middle of the pack, but somehow she’d found herself in the front that day. She was pulling away, pushing herself even faster. And then, without warning, there was a huge SUV beside her. Dark windows. Dark paint. Too close. Real threat. Real danger. The smell of hot rubber. The sounds of the engine. Too loud. And then?—
