Chapter 4 The Reunion (Pt 1)

• ASHER
• “A bumbling idiot who cannot do his job properly doesn’t deserve to get paid as much as you do, Grey. Tell me, what exactly am I paying you for? Isn’t it to keep the company name clean? If you can’t even do that much, then go find another job!”
• Without waiting to hear the person on the other side’s response, I hung up the phone. Seriously. I was surrounded by some of the smartest workers, but among them, there were a few rotten eggs. Grey Hammer was my company’s head of PR, but it looked like that would soon change.
• Turning to the woman seated across me, I said, “Fire Grey. Get someone that can do the job better,” before closing my eyes and leaning back into my seat. I was aware of the tempo increase of my heartbeat, as well as the incessant shaking of my legs.
• This was supposed to be a quiet ride back home after a long month of meetings and negotiations in Europe, and the problems had begun before I even touched ground. A couple minutes ago, the pilot had announced that we would soon be landing and I couldn’t wait to get off and stretch my legs.
• Don’t get me wrong, the seats of the private jet were comfortable enough, and there was ample space to stretch my legs, but flying wasn’t a pleasant thing for me. When I was fifteen, I lost my parents in a helicopter crash, and while I didn’t exactly fear crashing, I didn’t like the feeling of flying either.
• “Do you want another Va–?”
• “No.” Realizing what Jenna was about to ask, I answered before she got her question out. Jenna was my assistant of three years, but before that, we used to be friends, so she knew most things about me that others didn’t. “We’re arriving soon anyway.”
• I was frustrated but not to that point that I wouldn’t be able to manage being in the air for the rest of the time. An hour later, I was in the back seat of a Mercedes Maybach, being driven home. Jenna had gotten a ride from someone else after I told her she wasn’t required to be in the office until next week.
• As for me, I would rest briefly at home, then make my way to the office. That was supposed to be the plan anyway. Until my phone rang. If it had been anyone else, I would have made their call go to voicemail, but it was Lance Snow, my father. Well, my adoptive father. The man who took me in after my parents’ demise.
• I was fifteen, and he, 64, when he welcomed me into his home, making me feel loved honestly more than my birth parents ever had. I tried not to compare them too often, but sometimes it just happened. Now, it was over ten years after I moved into his home, and still thought of him as my father.
• “Ash,” my father’s gruff voice greeted me.
• Softening my voice, I returned his greeting. “Dad. I was going to call you once I reached home. Is something wrong?”
• I’d heard a slight note in his voice earlier which meant that something was likely troubling him. My father confirmed this a few seconds later.
• “You’re back in the country right?” After I confirmed it with a hum, Dad continued. “Hate to spring this up on you but I need help getting a parcel. I don’t trust any other person to do it.”
• There was one other thing. Recently, Lance had a stroke scare that put him in the hospital. After he was discharged, the doctor ordered him not to do any strenuous work or anything that would stress him out. If he could do it himself at that moment, he definitely would have. Which was why, although I would kill to have a decent nap right then, it would have to come after running Dad’s errand.
• “Send me the location and I’ll head there right away.”
• After thanking me, Dad hung up. A minute later, I received the address via message. It wasn’t a familiar place, so I checked the directions using the map and found that it was a two hour drive from where I currently was.
• “Stop the car,” I ordered the driver. “Order a ride back; I’ll pay for it.” Whatever the parcel was, it probably wasn’t something Dad wanted other people to know about, or he would have sent someone else.
• It wasn’t a good idea to drive while I was that tired, so I stopped by a café for some decaf coffee, and was on my way. Two something hours later, I pulled up to a gated neighbourhood before the maps told me I had arrived at my destination. The house I was led to was an aesthetic two-storey building.
• Dad asked me to call him once I arrived there, so that’s what I did. I had only been parked there for a few seconds when the front door opened and two people came out. A man helped a pregnant woman down the porch and led her to the car parked out front. But before they got in, they shared a long, passionate kiss.
• “What is this?” I wondered as I watched the scene. “Just what kind of parcel am I picking up?”
• A couple more minutes passed, and I was contemplating calling Dad again, when the front door opened again. This time a single person came out. Her hair was pulled into a bun, very messily might I add, and she had a huge luggage with her. But all those things were insignificant for the overall picture.
• As she turned in the direction of the car, I had more than a clear view of her face. It was a face I’d thought about so many times that I’d almost gone insane, a face that I’d tried, and failed, to get out of my head. So many times I wondered what Daphne would look like as an adult; this was how I found out. Gone was the nineteen-year-old who made my heart leap, and in its place was a woman that made something else leap.
• I knew now why Dad sent me to pick up this ‘parcel’.
• As she walked towards the car, I started to hear a pounding sound that progressively got louder as she drew nearer. It wasn’t until she stood in front of the door of the front passenger seat that I realized it was my heart beating out of control.
• “Pops–?” As Daphne bent at the waist and saw the driver, she let out a gasp.