A Welcome Help
Rachel
We had been in Seattle for a few days when Enrico contacted Joseph to question his decision to return to the United States. More importantly, he wanted to understand why his father had chosen to come back to his house with us instead of returning to the nursing home where he had lived before moving to London.
Despite his son's words, Joseph remained steadfast in his resolve to stay in his own home. He even invited Enrico to visit him anytime, something that made me nervous and irritated. However, the house was his, and I had no power to prevent his son's presence.
Given the strong possibility of Enrico soon visiting Seattle, due to the American leg of the Formula One circuit, I decided not to delay what I needed to resolve any longer. I sought out the real estate agent who rented out my apartment, hoping to secure a roof over my head and not have to stay at Joseph's house all the time.
The day after Enrico's call, I wasted no time and went to my apartment to try to speak with the tenant and confirm the termination of the lease in two weeks. After managing to talk to the tenant and get confirmation, I felt a great sense of relief and peace.
Once I regained possession of my apartment, I could continue working for Joseph in a normal professional relationship, without being entirely dependent on him and his son. This would put me in a more comfortable situation, or at least that was what I hoped would happen. I had no intention of convincing Enrico that the child I was expecting could not be from another man because he was the only one I had sex with.
I was walking back to the bus stop when I passed by a café, and the sight of a donut caught my attention, sparking a sudden and immediate craving to indulge in one of those sweets. Without much thought, I entered the establishment and ordered a coffee with a treat.
I sat at one of the tables, my mind completely focused on the need to devour that sweet as soon as possible, not even paying attention to the people around me. Unbeknownst to me, a man approached my table, surprising and simultaneously exasperating me with his unexpected intrusion.
"Yes?" I asked, without bothering with politeness. He was interrupting a private moment, and I didn't know him.
"Hi, Rachel. I believe you don't remember me, but I've been meaning to talk to you for months now," he said.
I didn't feel comfortable talking to strangers ever since my face was disfigured. I had left the house that morning only because it was something of extreme importance that couldn't wait, but given the situation, I eventually gave in to my curiosity.
"Please, have a seat," I said.
The man complied with my request and studied me more closely, suddenly furrowing his brow. I imagined his reaction was due to my horrific facial scar. I found it impossible to stay calm in the face of his scrutiny.
"Let's get straight to the point then," I said, setting aside my delightful donut. "What do you want to talk to me about?"
The man responded with a cordial smile, displaying composure even after being somewhat brusquely treated. I immediately felt regretful for my rude behavior but couldn't muster the courage to apologize.
"Let me introduce myself," he began. "I'm Jensen Thompson, the Chief Financial Officer of Mitchell & Associates."
I nearly jumped out of my chair upon hearing that information; my heart seemed to want to leap out of my chest in the face of the irony of fate.
"I imagine you're surprised, but I've been with Mitchell for many years, ten to be exact, and I've known you for just as long," he explained, and with each detail, I became even more speechless. "I've been to your house on several occasions, and you were there during some of those moments, Rachel."
I felt embarrassed by that observation, which pointed to the fact that I had seen him before, but he had been so insignificant that I hadn't even noticed him.
“I'm not good at remembering faces," I apologized, and I wasn't lying, it was the plain truth.
“And what about my name, do you remember that?”
If I already felt embarrassed before, now I wanted to disappear from that table.
“Sorry, I don't remember either.”
I opted for honesty; the fact that he was from Mitchell made me quite interested in talking more with him and finding out how things were at the company that had belonged to my father for so many years.
I remembered the day the will was read my promise to challenge everything that was said in that boardroom, and how I hadn't fulfilled that promise. This only confirmed something I never hid from anyone: my tendency to be complacent and my desire for everything to come easily to me, something that had hurt me a lot in recent months.
“It doesn't matter, Rachel," Thompson waved it off. "What matters is that I found you now."
“Were you looking for me?”
There's a big difference between wanting to talk to someone and actively seeking them out to start a conversation, and that changes everything.
“Yes, I was looking for you," he confirmed. "I was on vacation when everything happened, and due to communication issues, I wasn't informed about Patrick. When I returned to Seattle, I tried to contact you and Sarah, but couldn't find you."
I remember that after leaving the house where we had lived our whole lives, Sarah and I moved to an apartment in a neighborhood far from downtown, a lower-class area. Shortly after, I was traveling the world with the Formula One team, trying to win over Lorenzo Fiori.
That seemed like centuries ago. So much had happened since then that it was almost embarrassing how I had created every possible scenario to make Lorenzo fall in love with me and propose to me. In the end, he was truly in love with Hilary, and they seemed happy together.
“I've been traveling for a while," I explained briefly.
“I contacted some people, but the information was conflicting, and no one really knew where you were," Thompson continued. "I even tried to talk to Patrick's staff, but they just said you had rented an apartment and moved out of the mansion."
“I understand," I checked the time on my phone and decided to move the conversation along, "But what matters is that I'm here. What do you have to tell me?"
Thompson smiled at my direct question, and after staring at me for what felt like an uncomfortably long moment, he finally proceeded with the subject.
"I was bothered by the fact that you and your sister were left with nothing," I flinched in my chair as I remembered that fact, and he noticed, "And I would like to help in some way. However, I know Sarah is engaged to Kael Graham and likely doesn't need assistance. But you, Rachel, do you need something I can help with?"
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