After the Party

Kellerman’s was their biggest rival in the industry. At one time, its founder, Roy Kellerman, not only had worked at Trumbull, he’d been one of Elliot’s closest friends. They’d parted ways decades earlier after a falling-out that, from what Chase gathered, had been more personal than professional, as it involved his Aunt Isabella. Her funeral marked the first time the two men had spoken since becoming business rivals. Elliot claimed they’d buried the hatchet. If that were true, Chase was pretty sure it had been buried in Elliot’s back, because not long after that Trumbull’s business woes had begun.

Owen replied, “They did their research. They knew that’s what boys in the five-to ten-year-old demographic wanted.”

“They stole our idea!” Chase insisted.

Two remote-controlled dinosaurs, one named Chomp-a-saurus Rex and the other called Chomp-action T. rex, was more than a coincidence or savvy market research.

“There’s no evidence of that. Look, Chase, I love my father, too, but he hasn’t been the same since Mom died. He’s slipping. This wake nonsense is just one more example. He’s no longer fit to lead.”

Chase ignored the weariness in his cousin’s tone. It was easy to do since Owen seemed so damned eager to slide into the top spot, despite the fact that Elliot had made it plain he wanted Chase to be his successor.

Even with Elliot out of the way, Owen would need the board’s backing to take the helm. More and more, it appeared he had it.

Elliot’s wake could very well be the final nail in his professional coffin. In Chase’s mind, it didn’t bode well that it was being planned by a woman who believed in lucky pennies.

* * *

The following Tuesday, Ella splurged on a taxi to get to her appointment with Elliot. Since she was taking a cab rather than hoofing around Manhattan, she decided to wear her favorite pair of high heels. They were black patent leather with silver detailing on the vamp. They added four inches to her height. Unfortunately, if she wore them for too long, they also left her hobbling. But, damn, they looked great paired with the hot pink skinny jeans and printed peplum top that she’d gotten for a steal at a sample sale in the Garment District.

The door to Chase’s office was closed and the man in question was nowhere to be seen when Ella arrived on the seventeenth floor. She told herself she was relieved, since he made her so nervous. But she called herself a liar when the door to the office next to his opened and he stepped out. Her pulse took off like the miniature race cars in Elliot’s office.

He turned then, and she blinked in confusion at the stranger who stared back at her. The man was the same height and build as Chase. His coloring was similar, too. But his features were sharper, his nose slightly longer. No cowlick mocked his tidy hair.

“Well, hello.” Piercing blue eyes lit with interest when he smiled.

“Hi. You must be Owen Trumbull.”

“That’s right. And you must be Ella Sanborn.”

His smile was friendly, if flirtatious. He shook her hand, holding it a little longer than was necessary. Owen certainly had none of his cousin’s reserve.

“Yes.”

“My father tells me you’re going to throw quite a party for him.”

“Yes. I’m here to go over some of the plans.”

Owen smiled again. “Mind if I sit in?”

“That’s up to Elliot.”

Chase’s presence the other day had made Ella nervous, since it was clear he didn’t approve of the wake and, for that matter, didn’t trust Ella not to take advantage of Elliot. Still, she found herself glancing toward his door.

“He’s out,” Owen told her. “Won’t be back for a while.”

Just as well, she thought, refusing to be disappointed.

The racetrack was quiet when she and Owen entered Elliot’s office. The older man was seated behind his desk rather than on top of it, and a sheaf of papers was scattered over the blotter. He was clad in appropriate, if boring, work attire. Conservative suit. Starched white shirt. His only bow to fun was the tiny hot air balloons that speckled his bowtie.

His eyes lit up when he spied her and a smile wreathed his face, pulling his jowls firm. “Ella! If you aren’t a sight for sore eyes.”

“Hello, Elliot. I hope I’m not disturbing you. We did say nine o’clock?”

“We did.” With that he pushed the papers into a pile to one side and propped his reading glasses on top of his head. “I’m eager to see what you’ve come up with.”

“And I’m eager to hear what you think.”

She pulled a folder from the oversize handbag that was doing double duty as a briefcase, and passed it to him. Rather than opening it, however, Elliot transferred his gaze to his son.

“Is there something you wanted, Owen?”

“Not particularly.”

“Then you may go.”

The request was made with a surprising amount of authority from a man who otherwise came across as easygoing.

“What? I can’t stick around? Offer my advice on your little party?”

Nothing about the gathering Elliot had in mind could be classified as little. But what Ella found interesting, perhaps even telling, was that Elliot didn’t correct his son and use the word wake, even though he had been quite explicit on that point with Chase.

“You don’t care about this party, Owen.”

“Neither does Chase, but when you met with Ella last week, he was here. You told me so yourself.”

Although Owen’s tone was matter-of-fact, his reply struck Ella as petulant, childish. Some form of sticky family dynamic was at work here. Exactly what it was, she wasn’t sure. But if the drama of her stepmother and stepsister had taught Ella anything, it was that she didn’t want to be in the middle of it.

“Maybe I should come back,” she murmured.

Elliot apparently didn’t hear her. His gaze still on Owen, he said, “Chase might not approve of the party, but at least he cares.”

“Right. Saint Chase. For a moment I forgot who I was talking about.” Owen made a mocking bow in her direction. “It was nice to meet you, Ella.”

The door closed behind him with a thud. Elliot stared at it, frowning. When he glanced back at Ella, he seemed perplexed.

“Why are you here again?”

“Your party,” she said slowly.

Elliot continued to frown. About the time she became uncomfortable, he grinned and his expression turned impish.

“Wake, you mean. Let’s call it what it is.”

* * *

Muffled laughter, both masculine and feminine, greeted Chase when he stepped off the elevator.

The sounds emanated from his uncle’s office. Elliot’s laugh brought a smile to Chase’s lips. No one—whether child or adult—was proof against the man’s booming guffaw. The feminine laugh, however, had a different effect on Chase since he had a pretty good idea to whom it belonged.

Ella Sanborn.

She’d been on his mind a lot the past few days. She’d starred in one very explicit dream over the weekend, although that wasn’t the reason he’d nearly called her. He needed to speak to her about a matter that had nothing to do with thigh-high black silk stockings and a lace-edged push-up bra.

With the board’s official vote looming, the party his uncle had her planning had the potential to blow up in all of their faces. In the meantime, Ella was privy to some information that Chase would prefer she didn’t share with anyone...especially the media.

As he approached his uncle’s door, it opened and both occupants stepped out.

“I can’t wait to see the changes to the invitation,” his uncle said before turning to his secretary. “Marlene, did you finish that guest list I asked you to compile?”

“Yes.” The ever-efficient secretary pulled out a large envelope and handed it to him. “Here is a hard copy, and I’ve already sent the file to Ms. Sanborn’s email address.”

“Excellent. Thank you. Reward yourself with some chocolate drops.”

Candy-coated chocolate drops were a staple at the Trumbull Toys headquarters, and Elliot was liberal in doling them out for jobs well done. Marlene, however, remained sober-faced. Chase knew his presence, rather than any concerns over her diet, was the reason. He was a wet blanket, his appearance in a room all that was necessary to dampen the occupants’ enjoyment.

His gaze skimmed Ella then. She looked fresh, lovely...fun. Not exactly professional in those sexy high heels, but definitely approachable. She turned then and caught sight of him. Her smile was reserved but nonetheless lethal, and caused a knot to form in his stomach.

“Hello, Chase.”

When his tongue threatened to tie into a knot similar to the one in his gut, he frowned.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No.”

“Excuse me a moment,” Elliot said to Ella. “Apparently my signature is needed on some papers. I told Marlene she could forge it, but she’s a stickler for rules.”

Thank God, Chase thought, and his frown deepened.

“Do you ever smile?”

Ella’s question caught him off guard. “What?”

“I just realized that in the short time I’ve known you, I haven’t seen you smile. Not once.”

“And you find that odd?”

“Well, yes. I do find that odd. I doubt an hour goes by that I don’t smile or bust out laughing.”

“Because laughter is the best medicine?”

Mismatched eyes narrowed. “You’re mocking me, but yes. Laughter is the best medicine, and it beats the alternative, which is crying.”

“So, I should be grinning like a loon and laughing all the time lest I start bawling like a baby?”

“No, but you work at a toy company. You should be...happy!”

“Wow. Now you’ve determined that I’m unhappy. Are you always so quick with your judgments?”

“No.” She frowned. “At least, I try not to be.”

“But you’ve made an exception in my case.”

“Ooh. I’ve stepped in it good, haven’t I?”

“Yes.” He waited for her apology.

But Ella said with maddening directness, “Am I wrong? Are you happy?”

Who asked such bold questions? Certainly no one else in his uncle’s employ.

“Some of us take our responsibilities seriously. We have to,” he added, thinking of his uncle’s flighty temperament and just how much was at stake. That brought Chase back to his concerns. Some unscrupulous journalists would pay Ella handsomely for insider tidbits about Elliot. God help them if one already had. “Which reminds me, I’d like to have a word with you in private.”

“Right now?”

“If you and my uncle are finished, yes.”

“Ella and I are done,” Elliot replied, coming around the reception desk. “But I thought that you and I had plans.” He scratched his head. “Or did I get that wrong? Don’t tell me I wore this damned monkey suit and canceled my morning walk in the park for nothing.” He smiled at Ella. “I walk rain or shine. It’s good for circulation. Owen bought me a treadmill for Christmas so I wouldn’t have to leave the building to go for a walk, but you can’t feed the pigeons on a treadmill.”

“You’re right, Uncle. We do have plans.” Chase had scheduled a brunch meeting with Sumner Thurgood, one of the few board members who at least seemed hesitant to throw Elliot under the bus. He turned to Ella. “I guess our talk will have to wait.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” Her wry smile made it clear that she was lying.

Momentarily lost in those teasing, mismatched eyes, he replied honestly, “So will I.”

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