homework or giving me womanly advice on how to handle schoolgirl crushes. She was always a real ball buster when needed, but genuinely loved me.
“Was your father involved in your life?” Abilene asked.
“Yes, I suppose so. He worked a lot, but if I wasn’t here at the Oleander, then I was in his office. I guess you could say we didn’t spend a lot of time at our house. But I grew up feeling loved. I think that’s what every kid wishes for, and I got that.”
She remained quiet until we reached the library. I opened the large, carved wooden doors with the ornate handles and waited to see her response. I was pleased to see it was what mine had been. Wide eyes, open mouth, and stunned into a quiet awe.
“This is my favorite room of them all,” I said. I wasn’t a huge reader, but how could you not be impressed with the floor to ceiling bookshelves? There was a ladder that slid around the room in order for you to reach every book.
“I didn’t peg you as a book geek,” she said as she walked into the room and spun around, taking it all in.
“I’m a history buff,” I admitted. “I appreciate this room for all the ancient tales on those shelves. There are first editions, collectibles, and books that have been passed on from famous historical figures. The history that floods this room is what makes it so remarkable.”
Rather than just continuing on with the tour, I walked over to a large high-back chair by a massive fireplace and sat down. It had been a long time since I’d sat in this chair, and it was like revisiting an old friend. Abilene walked over to join me and sat in the chair across from me.
“What about you?” I asked. “Was your childhood a good one?”
She smirked and avoided eye contact. “Hardly. At least you had one parent. I can’t say the same.”
I took a moment and studied her demeanor. I prided myself on reading people—it’s how I did so well in business and negotiations—and I could see this woman was not comfortable delving into this conversation deeper. I suppose it was only fair to ask her more since she was the one who started this conversation by asking me about my childhood, but at the same time, I decided I would cut her some slack. Not everyone liked to take a trip down memory lane, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to be the prick to force her to.
“My father and I would sit here like this on Christmas night,” I said, giving her the gift of returning the conversation back to me. “He’d give the staff the night off with a large envelope of cash, and it would just be him and me. We’d go to a nice steak dinner, and then come here to have a bourbon. He’d even let me drink. He’d then give me my own envelope of money, wish me a Merry Christmas, and we’d just enjoy our time together.”
My heart felt heavy with emotions, and I realized it had been years since my father and I had done our holiday tradition. “May be some of my best memories with him.”
“I’m not a big holiday person, or a birthday person, or into celebrations in general,” she said. “Just another day.”
I made sure to pause and study her again. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t making her sad or ripping old wounds by talking about my privileged upbringing, when I could clearly see she wasn’t as lucky to have had the same. Abilene didn’t seem upset, but rather very engaged in what I had to say. She really did seem to care and want to hear more. It was refreshing to have a captive audience… something I only got from my staff—people I paid large salaries to pay attention to me.
Standing up, I said, “I want to show you what’s behind the walls.”
She stood with skepticism in her eyes. “Behind the walls?”
I nodded with adventure flooding my bones, reminding me of how I felt as a young boy playing hide and seek in the hidden veins of the Oleander. I walked over to a bookcase and pulled out a copy of Moby Dick, and the entire panel opened as I knew it would.
“A secret door?” Abilene nearly squealed. She didn’t wait for me to enter but stepped past the panel with curiosity taking over. “Oh my God, there’s a hallway!