Page 26 of Her Submission (Monica & Henry #2)
The Beginning II
Monica was going over the final changes to the plans for Le Salon’s extension when Genie appeared in her living room doorway.
“You have a visitor, Mrs. Warren,”
she said.
“It’s Mr. Monroe.”
Monica removed her reading glasses and looked up from her coffee table, where she spread copies of the contractors’ blueprints and swatches from the interior designer.
“What in the world does he want?”
she mused.
“Go ahead.”
Genie disappeared. She always left the room with a quick bow of the head and a shuffle of the feet that implied Monica’s fury several weeks ago had stayed with her. Everyone told me to fire her. Monica quickly gathered her papers and covered them with her stacks of art books. I didn’t see the point.
She had just finished cleaning up when Damon’s suited figure appeared in her doorway. Monica got up and was about to offer him a drink when she saw the smaller person standing behind him. It was Clarise, his daughter.
“Ah, good afternoon.”
Monica greeted the father and daughter as they graced her presence. “Damon.”
She cleared her throat. “Clarise.”
“I hope we’re not interrupting something important,”
he said, his hand snatching his daughter’s shoulder before she ran off.
“Not at all. Would either of you care for something to drink?”
Clarise rounded to the front of her father.
“Abigail hasn’t been at school this week.”
So, this was about Abigail? Monica figured as soon as she saw Clarise, who hadn’t been by since she had invaluable information about her schoolmate’s disappearance. Was she worried about Abigail.
“She wasn’t feeling well today, so I told her she could stay home.”
“Hopefully it’s nothing serious,”
Damon said.
“Nothing communicable.”
Monica offered Clarise a motherly look, but the girl turned toward her father, cheeks red.
“She still gets a bit burned out since her ordeal.”
There was no point sugarcoating it. Everyone knew what had happened, especially the Monroes. Clarise might not know the details because she was too young, but what had she heard at school.
“Is there something she missed today?”
Damon urged his daughter to say something instead of answering on her behalf. “No.”
Monica grinned.
“Shall I call her for you?”
Before Clarise could run out of the room, Monica bellowed, “Abby!”
down the hall toward her daughter’s room. Within a few seconds, her head poked out of her door, followed by Matilda.
“Abby, a friend from school wants to say hi because you weren’t there today.”
Matilda held back in the hallway as Abigail came forward, her head moving in curiosity when she recognized Clarise and her father.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,”
Clarise replied.
Damon shared a look with Monica that she interpreted as him saying.
“Riveting.”
“You weren’t at school today,”
Clarise said.
“Didn’t feel like going.”
The two girls continued to stare at each other while the clock ticked on the wall. Monica was halfway to killing the silence with her own request, but Abigail had an idea of her own.
“Do you want to see the Minecraft Lego set I’m putting together?”
Clarise’s eyes widened. “Okay.”
The one chased the other down the hall and into Abigail’s room. Relieved, Monica turned to Matilda.
“Keep an eye on them, please?”
“Of course, ma’am.”
Matilda ensured the bedroom door remained open and casually waltzed in to do some chores while giggling filled the hallway.
That only left the man standing on the other side of the living room.
“Would you like a drink?”
Monica offered again.
“Just a water is fine, thank you.”
Monica poured him some ice water from a carafe in the corner of the room. He accepted it while sitting on one of the couches and slung one leg over the other while listening to the sounds of his daughter playing down the hall.
“I didn’t expect this, that’s for sure.”
After cleaning some more things off the coffee table, she said.
“It’s a nice change of pace between them.”
“Indeed, I have enjoyed the lack of phone calls from the school and parent-teacher conferences I never thought I’d have with a daughter.”
“You have two sons now, too, yes?”
“Yup. Damon Jr. and Evan.”
“Your family has been quite blessed.”
“There was some heartache along the way, to be sure. I’m sure you know about that. You seem to know everything that happens with everyone else.”
Monica didn’t respond. She didn’t have to. I know Alice had at least one miscarriage. Possibly more. The Monroes wanted a few kids and got started the moment they married, but there was a several-year gap between Clarise and Damon Jr. Score one for me for only wanting one. Monica wouldn’t be able to bear that sort of pain.
“Is Henry home?”
Was the silence that awkward for Damon.
“No. He’s in Austin this week.”
“Your new club is opening soon, isn’t it?”
That was the real conversation he wanted to have.
“Hopefully. They’re about to do the final renovations, and then it’s the interior decorator’s job to go in and make it inviting. We’ll be available to reserve for private parties and classes soon.”
His terrible grin almost made her smile back at him.
“Always giving me a run for my money, aren’t you?”
Two bouts of raucous laughter echoed down the hallway. Matilda said something, scolding the girls, but Monica couldn’t understand what she said.
“I enjoy a good challenge, Mr. Monroe. I believe we both offer symbiotic sanctuaries to our metro area.”
“That we do.”
He was not a powerful conversationalist if he wasn’t feeling it, and it was clear that Damon did not come here hoping to chat with Monica. Instead, they were trapped here, tolerating each other’s company while their daughters worked through their feud. One that neither of their parents could fully comprehend. Some girls are just like that, I guess. The child therapist had suggested that even the smallest slight could have set something off between Clarise and Abigail. And while all evidence pointed toward Clarise being the aggressor – and the Monroes admitting that their daughter had long been in therapy for her worries – Monica struggled to see it as malicious. Mostly, her heart broke for Abigail, who didn’t understand why this girl didn’t like her.
For months, Monica worried that Clarise was picking up on the rivalry between her father and Abigail’s mother, but this went beyond that.
“At this rate, they’ll be going to each other’s birthday parties,”
Damon muttered.
“Do you have Abby’s parties here?”
Monica suppressed her amusement as she picked up her glass of water from the coffee table.
“Most of the time. She’s mentioned wanting her next one at the planetarium.”
“Clarise loves the planetarium.”
“Does she?”
“So does her mother.”
“What about her father?”
Damon shrugged.
“I usually fall asleep when the light show begins.”
Monica hated to admit it, but Henry fell asleep the last time they took Abigail. If only he were here. She would have dragged him out of his office to help entertain Damon while their daughters played. At this rate, they would be reduced to talking about politics, and that never ended well even if she and Damon agreed on almost everything. He did attend my fundraisers…
People were complicated. Life was nuanced. She hoped their daughters would grow up realizing that the rivalry between the Monroes and Monica was purely because they were in the same line of business and had nothing to do with personal matters. If Monica had closed the Chateau when she married, then Damon and Alice would probably be staples in Warren Manor.
“Did you hear about the Kleins?”
Damon must have been hard-up to talk about something because he was gossiping.
“Mrs. Emily Klein is pregnant with her first child, despite all accounts that her husband Derrick is, ah, incapable in that department.”
Monica pursed her lips.
“I heard something about that.”
“The rumor is that the father is none other than Jonas Parker.”
“I think most of us are aware that the Kleins and Parkers have been in a polycule for a couple of years.”
It played out regularly at the Chateau, where Jonas often brought his wife – and girlfriend – to b.
“entertained”
by one of Monica’s employees.
“Still, I’m sure it was a bit of a shock to Mr. Klein.”
“So, you know?”
“Like you said, I know everything.”
“I really gotta get better at gossip.”
“That’s how you know you’re getting older, Mr. Monroe.”
Monica settled into her seat.
“You fill your days with nonsense.”
“Are our kids nonsense, though?”
“I certainly hope not.”
They remained mostly quiet after that, the only sounds in the room coming from the laughter down the hall. For the first time in a long while, Monica felt completely at peace.
Everything is going to be okay. She held onto this moment, proud of making it so far.