The Truth

Sandra

The fact that his wife had left him for an old college friend ripped Daniel’s guts out. He’d been utterly blindsided by her abandonment and baffled by her ability to simply write off Elle’s existence.

It was a very different story from the one Elle tells. To her, her mother just ceased to exist, and her memories focus on Daniel’s assurances. On how, even as he worked hard, he did everything to make Elle’s life happy and fulfilled. How even when he fell short, she knew he loved her.

His memories, meanwhile, centered on his feelings of anger and doubt. How he’d struggled, locking down a part of himself and vowing to never trust anyone again. How the only person he really let in his life was his daughter, and the pain it caused him when he felt like he wasn’t enough.

He kept the world out, only dating when socially necessary, but never seriously, researching business associates and employees thoroughly and even encouraging Elle to be careful giving her heart away.

But he trusts me. He loves me.

And if this is a dream, I will strangle the person who wakes me from this bliss.

But even dreams have some boring reality mixed in, I guess, because this morning, I find myself in the lobby, tackling another day. Stephanie is on the phone next to me, politely telling a lady for the third time that yes, she can absolutely come in for a tour, but only during the allowed times, and no, it doesn’t include a meet and greet with the ‘most wanted bachelor in the city’ CEO despite her certainty that he would appreciate her considerable assets.

Previously, I would’ve been filled with jealous rage at some other woman thirsting after Daniel, but not now. Now, he’s my Daniel, so I roll my eyes with Stephanie and silently giggle at the woman’s audacity. I mean, you do you, boo, and shoot your shot, but . . . damn.

The elevator dings, and I glance up, a smile blooming instantly when I see Daniel. He’s wearing a black suit that looks sleek and expensive, a silver tie that highlights the sexy looking bits of gray at his temples, and a stern expression. Ricky and Billy are at his sides, looking equally grim. They walk past us without a glance like I expect, but then Daniel stops and retraces his last few steps to stand in front of me, Stephanie, and Megan.

“Miss Young, are you available to take meeting minutes right now?” His brows lift incrementally, his expression unchanging. But I can see the glint in his eyes, and I wonder what he’s up to.

Is this some new roleplaying thing we’re doing? If so, I can play along.

“Of course, Mr. Stryker,” I reply, equally professional. “I’ll grab my laptop.”

Daniel nods once, chill like the back corner of the fridge. “Thank you. Conference room one, please.”

Without another word he, Ricky, and Billy continue on their strut through the lobby without a look back. I watch them go until I feel a smack and see that Stephanie’s just backhanded my thigh for attention.

“What the hell was that?” she asks warily. “What’s going on?”

“I have no damn idea,” I admit honestly while not revealing my suspicions. “I guess I’ll find out.”

“Yeah, well, you’d better tell us,” Stephanie orders. “Especially if it concerns the front desk. But even if it doesn’t.”

Megan rolls her eyes at Stephanie’s bossy tone. “If you can, she means. Don’t you think if it really concerned us, Mr. Stryker wouldn’t bother dealing with us himself? He’d probably have someone send Tiff an email.”

Stephanie pins me with a glare. “Have you checked your email?”

“I’ve been sitting right here next to you. What do you think?” I ask her, fighting to not hip-check her and remind her who’s the boss here. But it’s all in good fun, mostly. We’re just nosy because it typically serves us well to know what’s happening around here.

Megan whispers, “You think it’s about . . . ahem . . .” She looks around, making her concerns about being overheard all the more obvious, “Mark and Brandon and Layla?”

“Ooh! Yes!” Stephanie whisper-shouts. She mouths at me, “All of it,” before miming drinking tea from a cup with her pinky out, communicating that she’ll be expecting me to spill all the tea as soon as possible.

I pick up my laptop from my desk, eyeing Stephanie and Megan in warning because I wouldn’t put it past them to listen at the door. Stephanie, especially, and she’d likely get Megan to act as lookout. I head into the conference room, where Daniel is telling Ricky and Billy the plan. Seeing me, he waves me in, and I close the door behind me.

“Okay, so I’ll sit here, at the head of the table by the door. Ricky and Billy, you’re in chairs to the corners behind right there,” he says, pointing where he wants them to perch. “I don’t expect these guys to do anything stupid, but you never know. Tiffany, you can sit on the other side of the room. For the love of God, I need you to be totally silent, nearly invisible for this to go off well. Do you understand?”