I zipped the dress up, stepped into the silver pumps I'd bought to match the dress, then turned to look at myself in the mirror. The combination of h
air, makeup, and dress was a drastic switch from the plain, Amish clothing I'd been wearing just two days ago.
"No one would ever guess that you come from Corner Grove," I said as slowly turned from side to side marveling at the way I looked. But even the beautiful dress couldn't erase the sound of Honor's voice and the fact that I knew I needed to get home as soon as possible. I dialed Adam's number, hoping that he'd answer or, at the very least, cleared out his voicemail, but I had no such luck. I tucked the phone in my silver clutch as I murmured, "Where are you, Adam?"
The sleek, black car that Mike had sent arrived just as I'd finished going over the financials one last time. The driver held open the door and helped me slide in to the backseat, dress and all. The soothing sounds of smooth jazz filled the car as we headed downtown, and I tried to will myself to relax and enjoy the moment. By the time we pulled up in front of London House, I had calmed myself enough to smile as the driver helped me out of the car.
I took the elevator up to the twenty-first floor and found Mike waiting for me in the outer room.
"Holy moly, kiddo!" he exclaimed as I exited the elevator. "You sure do clean up good!"
"Thanks, Mike," I laughed. He was wearing a tuxedo with the tie rakishly twisted. I looked at him and asked, "Do you need me to fix that?"
"If you don't mind, kid," he said waving me off. "These monkey suits make me itch and putting a noose around my neck really isn't my strong suit."
I laughed as I straightened the tie and then pronounced him ready. Mike held out his arm and escorted me down the short flight of stairs into the room. It looked like something out of the fairy tales Mamm had read to me as a child. Above, the ceiling was embedded with thousands upon thousands of tiny lights that twinkled like stars and cast a warm glow over the room. Hundreds of white trees with clear glass icicles hanging from their branches lined the edges of the room and the pale spotlights shining up out of the planters gave the room the feel of an enchanted forest.
"Champagne, kiddo?" Mike asked as a server dressed in a crisp, white shirt slowly moved around the room, holding a tray full of thin glasses that sparkled in the dim light. I nodded as Mike took two glasses from the tray and gave one to me. "This is the life, kid. This is what I aspire to someday. Champagne and low light will keep me young."
"Mike!" I laughed as I sipped my champagne and scanned the room. I didn't expect to see anyone I knew, but I did want ask Mike who these people were. Luckily for me, he had already begun to tell the tales of those he knew and those whom he'd only heard about. I listened raptly as I memorized the names and faces.
I'd just shook the hand of a man who'd launched a chain of successful coffee shops throughout the Chicago area when a bell chimed and Gordon Wallace stepped to the edge of the landing. With him was a beautiful woman wearing an elegant, eggplant colored gown and a necklace made of large amethyst stones set in gold that had probably worth more than my entire year's salary.
"That's Gordon's wife, Felice," Mike whispered. "She's a force to be reckoned with, let me tell you."
The two of them looked so familiar that I suddenly remembered I had wanted to ask Adam if he was related to Gordon. Gordon spoke for a few minutes about the opportunity to merge Mija and WalCo, and what it meant to make such an important connection. He then turned and said, "And I could not have done this without the love and support my beautiful wife, Felice, and my brilliant and talented son, Adam."
The crowd clapped loudly as Adam stepped from behind his parents and briefly bowed at the waist before straightening and stepping back. I was stunned.
"That kid is a genius," Mike whispered. "But I've heard Gordon threatened to disown him when he went off to MIT and majored in engineering. Not sure how true that is, though. They look like a happy, little family, don't they?"
It was all I could do to nod and keep a smile on my lips. Adam was supposed to be in Corner Grove looking after my family and preparing for the one shot he had at selling the turbines to the Amish community! I was furious that he'd ducked my calls to avoid telling me that he was coming back to the city, and I knew that as soon as the presentation was over, I'd seek him out and demand answers.
Chapter Forty
Adam
By the time my father introduced my mother and me to the crowd, he and I had already stirred up the animosity that had been brewing since that fateful day in his office when he'd issued the ultimatum. Nothing had changed; he was still the stubborn, God-fearing dictator who wanted to control everything and everyone, and I was still the rebellious child who'd dare defy him by following my own path.
"Nice of you to grace us with your presence, Adam," my father muttered as he downed a Scotch and nodded at the bartender to pour him another.
"Gordon, you're giving a speech," my mother said as she shook her head at the bartender and moved the glass out of my father's reach.
"Dammit, Felice! I'm a grown man!" he yelled as she raised an eyebrow and signaled that he was dangerously close to crossing the line with her. He backed down, as he usually did, and directed his anger at me. "Where the hell have you been?"
"Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to, Father?" I shot back not bothering to hide my contempt.
"You are an ungrateful, little bastard," he said moving around my mother and pointing to the glass. The bartender poured him another finger of Scotch as my father turned and looked at me.
"And you're a drunk," I said staring back at him.
"Why you—" he growled as he lunged for me. I stepped back and watched as he stumbled a bit and then pulled himself up and straightened his jacket. His voice barely concealed his rage as he said, "You will stand up with us and present a united front this evening, then you will leave and never show your face in my presence again."
"Gordon!" my mother gasped. "We talked about this, and you know how I feel about your ultimatum."
"Fuck you, Felice," my father said as he knocked back his drink and looked at the two of us. "He's a pain in the ass, has been since birth. I'm sick and tired of his whining and his unwillingness to pull his weight in this family. There's no excuse for it. I'm treating him the same way I would treat a lazy employee: I'm cutting ties and cutting my losses."
"Gordon, he's our son," my mother said in a steely tone.