Page 38 of Park Avenue Princess

Chapter 11

Lynne

Walking through the doors of my father’s firm makes my skin itch while my head immediately begins to pound. I haven’t been here in over six years, and honestly, I haven’t missed it. Some of the people, sure, but not the tense atmosphere, not the constant pressure to perform, and not the ice-cold treatment from my own flesh and blood.

As I approach reception, I receive a wide smile and warm greeting from Liza. “Hi, Lynne! So good to see you. How have you been?”

“Hello, Liza. I’ve been good, busy. How are you and the family?” I deflect back to her, not ready to discuss anything personal.

Liza has been at the firm for over ten years. She’s forty with two kids and nearly twelve years of marriage to her credit. And she’s a doll.

Her smile brightens my dreary mood. “Wonderful. Marilee is finishing up first grade and loving it. She’s already reading beyond her peers. And Carl is just a little munchkin.” She chuckles. “He’ll be ready for kindergarten in the fall, but over the summer he’ll—”

“Lynne, you’re late.”

My father’s reprimand in his booming voice startles Liza, whose cheeks pink. I remain unfazed as I turn his way.

“Actually, I’m not.” I turn back to Liza and give her my best smile. “I’m so happy for you and the family. Kiss those adorable kiddos, and you and Jake have a wonderful anniversary this weekend.”

Her eyes widen as a little gasp escapes her bowed lips. “You remembered!”

“Of course.” I reach out to give her hand a quick squeeze. “Take care,” I whisper.

I then turn toward my father whose face is twisted with impatience as the toe of his shoe taps the floor. I roll my eyes as I walk past him toward his office, not yet bothering to say a word. Moments later as I say hello to his personal assistant, someone I don’t recognize, I walk through his office door when I hear him say he’s not to be disturbed. I barely have time to remove my bag and coat when he’s closing the door rather soundly and speaking in his stern father-voice.

“Lynne DuVall, what—”

“Dad, don’t even start,” I say wearily as I face him. “Don’t start in on a lecture with your high-and-mighty attitude, intent on belittling me. Since you obviously haven’t noticed, I am a grown woman who no longer answers to you; either as an employee or apparently as your own daughter.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” True confusion reshapes his face, erasing the indignant look from seconds ago.

“As if you don’t know.” I stifle the urge to sigh. “All those years of working my ass off trying to gain your admiration, your respect. And for what? Nothing.” I begin to gesture with my hands, waving them about in front of me. “You’re a DuVall. I expected no less. That’s all I’d ever hear. Not,Lynne, I’m so proud of you.Lynne, marvelous work.Lynne, you’ve broughtnothing but excellence to this firm.” Pent-up anger replaces the weariness as my voice becomes edged with heat. “Even after I left the firm, still trying to salvage our relationship, you couldn’t even be bothered to keep an open line of communication. So I told myself it didn’t matter and to stop wasting energy on a situation that would never produce the results I wanted.Ishould be proud of myself,formyself. And by God, I am.

“And then with your call this morning, you have the audacity to expect me to drop everything I’m doing, neglect my obligations in order to help you with whatever this mess is you’ve gotten mixed up in.”

I watch him for any reaction, wait for any snarky comeback, but all I witness is a minuscule twitch at the corner of his eye. Crossing my arms and raising my chin, I start again.

“Now all of a sudden you have nothing to say? No confirmation, no denial? No bellow or bluster? Any chance you’re going to be honest with me about why I’m really here? About those city funds?”

His eyes narrow as his nostrils flare, yet he continues to remain surprisingly silent.

“I’ve seen spreadsheets, I’ve traced transactions, and I’ve uncovered interesting information regarding that wealth fund as well as a retirement fund tied to the Comptroller’s office.”

Now his eyes widen a fraction and his lips part as if ready to say something.A spiteful part of me would like to say it’s almost comical to see my father in a state of vulnerability and disbelief, but the truth of it is, it’s not. It’s sad.

“If I can uncover information in a matter of hours, how do you expect others not to catch on to what’s happening?”

He now lifts his chin defiantly as he asks me, “And what do you think is happening?”

“I think you, or your firm was somehow put in charge of controlling the investments for the retirement accounts through the Comptroller’s office. I think you were also convinced to shift the majority of the investments to Hamilton Resources. I think city funds are being embezzled and funneled into a bogus wealth fund that seems to have no ties to the financial market.”

I continue to watch my father for any tell-tale signs that I’m hitting the mark, but he maintains an eerie calm.

“What I haven’t figured out is why you’re in charge of the retirement account when you’re not a financial advisor. I also haven’t figured out who’s doing the embezzling and how. Or what the purpose is of the wealth fund.” I cock my head. “Another account to pad? Who’s benefitting from all this activity? Are you truly in on it or are you being coerced? Black mailed?”

As I wait for an answer, any explanation at all, Dad’s façade finally breaks as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes and looks at me, it’s as if he’s aged twenty years in the span of a few seconds.

“Dad?” I say with true concern in my voice.

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