My Father's Gift

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My Father's Gift Page 2

by Leanne Fitzpatrick


  *

  The atmosphere in the house had changed. People stood or sat conversing with ease, laughing and joking with one another. Reminiscing. It irritated her. Jovial stories grated across her nerves. She hated them all, from the businessmen in their tailored suits to the women that sat pale and perfect in the chairs, their dresses glamourous and glitzy despite the occasion. This was her father’s world, she knew. Falsehoods and masks…

  It repulsed her when they came up to her, their hot hands squeezing hers as they offered insincere condolences. She knew what thoughts they hid behind their snake-eyes. They were all wondering what would happen to the money- would it go to the estranged wife or the daughter? Would the value of their shares plummet, or rise?

  With the grave still not filled in they courted her, praised her poise and demeanour. She acknowledged their words with smiles as hollow as their own. She barely reacted when so subtly questioned about her father’s plans and her responsibilities. Oh how they just knew she was mature enough to take over the family reins, and of course she must not hesitate to call upon them as men worldly-wise in the ways of business should she ever require advice.

  She thanked them and repressed the revulsion at their greed and oily smiles. She counted the seconds until it was time for them to leave. She did not have the luxury of retiring as her mother had already done- feigning grief and a broken heart. No doubt she was already pawing over the antiques and pricing them up. She excused herself from an onslaught of offered help to fill a fine china plate with over-priced, nibbles before seating herself in her father’s armchair. Around her she heard the comments. ‘Poor little thing’, and ‘lost now- will need all the help she can get’.

  She was careful not to let her anger show. She was surrounded by vultures, and any sign of weakness would be the signal for them to attack… She longed for them to leave, more than that, she longed to push them all out, one by one into the downpour so that she could be alone with her thoughts and grief.

  A shadow fell across her plate and she looked up, her face already masked in the proper expression.

  “He was a truly unrepentant swine in his business dealings,” the newcomer murmured, bowing low and taking her free hand. Her breath caught as heat filled her. Her hand felt like ice in his. “And he was the greatest collector of enemies I ever had the pleasure of serving.”

  He was still holding her hand, still bowed over and yet he watched her, a smile playing over his full lips. She couldn’t help but stare at him- to see him in the flesh as it were. Her other hand moved to clutch the pendant on her chest. His eyes tracked the movement and his smile deepened.

  Annalise looked him over, taking in the old fashioned, but perfectly sewn suit. His shoes shone and there was not a crease about him. He was every inch a gentleman on the surface. She smiled, small though it was, it was genuine. There would be no pretence with this man.

  “He had a certain way about him, I cannot deny it.”

  “Would you want to? And yet, here you are placed firmly in his shoes.”

  He released her hand and straightened. Around them people watched- eying him up and whispering their questions to one another.

  “If it be his wish, I am sure I will continue where his footsteps leave off. We will know when the time comes.”

  “I am sure of it.”

  He smiled down at her. It was a dangerous smile, not quite indecent but almost certainly predatory. Annalise felt her heart quicken a little with excitement.

  “I have not seen you here before,” she murmured. “Do you have a name?”

  His smirk widened enough to flash a hint of white teeth.

  “I certainly will do. If it is your father’s wish, I’m sure you will know it in time. If I know anything about that man, I know he was determined I should make your acquaintance.”

  “And you have, in such a subtly dramatic fashion.”

  He inclined his head in a small nod, mischief dancing in his eyes.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Annalise,” he said. “I am sure I will be seeing much more of you.”

  He bowed again and stepped away. He left a vacuum of silence behind him. Annalise watched him go, supressing the shiver that made her spine tingle. She was aware of people watching here, gauging her reaction. For a blissful moment she didn’t care that they saw her smile or the light flush of her cheek. Her heart was beating a little too fast and her breathing was a little too shallow, but there had been a promise in his words and he had promised excitement.

  She lowered her gaze to her plate, chose one of the small quiches and bit into it, chewing slowly as she considered her future.

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