I rap softly on the back door before letting myself in. The Windfall kitchen is huge, meant to accommodate multiple cooks and servers for parties and holidays. I’ve always been a little jealous of the pristine Viking appliances and marble counters. That was before, when I’d never had more than a closet-sized kitchen in Queens to use. Now, I wonder what the point of it is other than for show. Then again, that’s the primary function of an estate like this. It’s only here to show off the MacLaine wealth. I can see it for what it really is today: a family ego.
Felix looks up up from the pot on the stove. His hand, holding a wooden spoon, freezes in mid-air. He manages to cover his surprise well, but although his face remains blank, dislike narrows his eyes. I wonder how long he can keep up the charade of pretending I’m a stranger. He’s done an excellent job so far.
“May I help you?” he asks. The sham continues, it seems.
“Don’t act like you don’t remember me, Felix,” I said dryly. He played along before. We both know exactly who I am, and I’m guessing he knows why I came back. Adair always confided in him.
“You’re Daddy’s friend,” a small voice pipes up and I turn to see Malcolm’s daughter sitting at the kitchen island. Large, blue eyes loom in her round face and she studies me critically. She obviously takes after her aunt.
“I am, but I came to see your aunt,” I say to her. Felix might take Adair’s side, but kids, in my experience, don’t know how to go along with deception. They might hide a cookie behind their back, but guilt is usually written all over their face. That makes her my new best friend. If Adair is here, she won’t be able to hide it. I’m not certain Felix will feel inclined to tell me if he’s seen her.
The girl purses her lips and shakes her head. “Auntie Dair isn’t here. She’s been gone all night. Do you know where she’s been?”
Now that’s a loaded question.
“I don’t. That’s why I’m here,” I say softly. I take a stool next to hers and turn my focus back to Felix. I suppose I have to sweet talk him now.
“Don’t look at me,” he says before I can press him for answers. “I haven’t seen her since this afternoon. She spoke with Malcolm and left in… a hurry.” Felix inclines his head, his eyes darting to the upper floors of the house. So he heard the fight. That’s not a surprise. Felix knows everything that goes on in this house.
“I suspect you’ve seen her since I have,” he says as he resumes stirring the pot. I don’t miss the irony.
I start to tell him to have her call me, but he’s unlikely to pass along that message. I can’t blame Felix for not liking me. He’s only ever heard Adair’s side of the story, and I’m sure she painted me as the villain. I’m going to need a different ally. Someone she’ll actually listen to. That’s the trouble. Most of our mutual friends are loyal to her. There’s no one in her family she’ll listen to. She’s too stubborn.
“Would you like hot chocolate? Felix is making me some,” the girl says.
The answer is sitting right next to me. How didn’t I see it? Adair loves the girl. I saw that the night I came to dinner. She might avoid her brother. Felix might not pass along a message. But a kid? She can make sure that Adair knows I came around. “What your name again?”
“I’m not supposed to tell that to strangers,” she says.
I see she has the hot and cold attitude of a MacLaine. Hot chocolate one minute, snubbing you the next. “I’m no stranger, remember? I know your dad and your aunt.” I don’t mind working for her trust. It will be good practice getting a MacLaine female to see past my flaws. I stick out a hand to her. “I’m Sterling. It’s nice to see you again.”
She takes my outstretched hand with a giggle. “Elodie MacLaine.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” I say. I’m not above flattering this kid if it means getting closer to Adair.
“Everyone calls me Ellie,” she says seriously, “but I think you should call me Elodie.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Why is that?”
“You’re in business with my dad,” she says to me. “You talked about it at dinner.”
“I see.” I nod in understanding. “We have a formal relationship.”
“Yes. Are you in business with my aunt?”
“Does she always ask so many questions?” I say to Felix.
“You have no idea,” he says with a laugh. He pretends to focus on the pot of hot chocolate, making a show of acting like I’m not there, but I catch him stealing quick glances in my direction. He knows something. He probably knows where Adair has gone, but he’s not going to tell me. He pours two mugs of hot chocolate, drops marshmallows into one, and places them in front of us.
“Is this your favorite?” I ask, picking mine up.
“You ask a lot of questions for an adult,” she says pointedly.
“You’re not exactly shy,” I say to her.
“Scorpios usually aren’t,” Felix says. He holds up a finger when she reaches for her own mug. “Remember last time. We let it cool.”
“Your aunt is a Scorpio,” I tell her.
“I know.” She’s busy poking marshmallows like she can cool her drink faster if she plays with it. “We have a secret club.”
“Can I join?”
She appraises me for a second, and I can already tell that I’m coming up short. “Are you a Scorpio?”
“I am not.” There’s no point in lying to her. That won’t score me any points with her or her aunt.
She shrugs her tiny shoulders. “Sorry. Scorpios only.”
“I understand.” Elodie might be the friendliest member of the MacLaine family, but even she has the elitist streak necessary to call Valmont home.
“Can you tell your aunt that I was here?” I ask her.
She bobs her head. “I can do that, Mr. Ford.”
We’re back to formality. Honestly, it’s one of the best business transactions I’ve had in a while.
“Thanks for the hot chocolate, Felix.”
“I’d say any time…” He trails off.
“Understandable. I’m just going to pop up to her room.”
“If you want, but she’s not here,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m not lying to you.”
“Would you admit if you were?” I ask.
He tips his head, conceding my point’s valid. I don’t bother to argue with him on this. Felix and I aren’t likely to ever be best friends, and it’s not like I need him to show me the way. I wind my way up the narrow staircase that leads into the family quarters.
The first floor of Windfall is all for show. A foyer that could house a tennis court. A sitting room meant to host cocktail parties. An atrium that’s basically a ballroom. Upstairs is where the MacLaines live their lives, but that doesn’t make it much homier. I pause at the top of the staircase, remembering the last time I was here. It seems like a lifetime ago. I guess that’s because it was. Glancing to the corridor on the left, I see that they’ve taken down her mother’s art. I can only imagine how Adair felt about that. I suppose that wing of the house is occupied by Malcolm and his wife now. I don’t go that way. Instead, I take a right and find my way to the far side of the house. Adair’s room overlooks the gardens below. It’s not really a room. At least, not in the traditional sense. It’s practically a condo. A living area, two bathrooms, a bedroom, a reading room. I wander through each, but she’s not here, like Felix said. Still, she’s everywhere. A lot of things might have changed since I left, but there are pieces of the girl she was littered everywhere. The clues paint a picture of her life while I was gone. Books are piled unceremoniously on the floor next to her bed, on the desk overlooking the gardens, shoved into shelves built into the walls. There’s no rhyme or reason to any of them. She’s never bothered with alphabetizing. These books are read. These books are loved. Somehow, seeing that—knowing that part of her survived—reminds me that, as much as she tries to act like there’s nothing left between us, there’s too much to be ignored. We’ll always have this. This shared love. This shared language.