Find A Way

Chapter 3

Just as I begin walking back to find my father, Connor finds me first. “There you are!” he smiled, pulling me to his side. “Your father is talking to the owner now, you’ll have to to come and pick it up another day though.” I leaned my head on his shoulder.

“Sounds good” I yawned. I would love to still look around the place to take in all the beautiful photographs, but the thought of laying in bed in my pajamas sounded more appealing. “Lets go.” I said while giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Okay, let me go get your father and we’ll be on our way.”

“So how did you like it Elizabeth?” Father asked as we got onto the freeway.

“I loved it,” I simply answered. “I loved every single piece there.” The conversation began reminding me of the man I met there; Harry, if I remember correctly..

“They’re just a bunch of blown up pictures, nothing special.” Connor said under his breath.

“Good. I didn’t get to see the photograph you chose but I’m sure you chose only the best for the event, right Elizabeth?” Father asked as Connor parked in front if of his house.

“Yes Father. Bye” I waved. He gave me a kiss on the cheek before exiting the car.

“Goodbye John.” Connor waved to my father from the window and with that, drove off.

“Excited about the anniversary party?” Connor asked after a few minutes of silence.

“I guess.” I closed my eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll do a great job decorating it.” I felt his hand rest on my thigh.

“Yeah, I hope so.” I kept trying to give the most vague answers, hopefully he would get the hint.

“I’m sure you will. This is going to be the 35th anniversary by the way.” I could hear the giddiness in his voice. “I mean it’s probably going to be the biggest party! 35 whole years this company has been up and running. And you’re father has been doing a great job running it.” Everything he talked about related to work.

”You sound just like him.” How long does it take to get to my place, seriously. He laughed his famous laugh; it always reminded me of a show host.

“I have to say, I do admire the man.” I noticed that his hand had slightly migrated up my thigh. “You’ll have to go talk to the man who took the pictures by the way.” he squeezes my thigh.

“The artist?” I questioned softly. I hoped he wouldn’t detect my annoyance.

“If you want to call him that, yes.” he laughed at his own joke.

“Okay, when?” I opened my eyes. The thought of meeting the person who took those amazing photographs thrilled me.

“Some time this week, I’ll tell you when I find out. And I’ll drive you, it’s suppose to get colder.” he pulled over in front of my apartment building.

“Sounds good, bye” I quickly pecked his cheek and removed his hand from my leg.

“I’ll call you later, Elizabeth” I just nodded in response and got out of the sports car.

The next day I woke to the sound of my phone alarm, telling me it was time to get ready. I jumped in the shower and threw on my clothes, settling for a simple pencil dress. Maybe it’d look like I actually put effort into my attire. I slipped on some heels and slid into my coat and was on my way to the train.

Sitting amongst all the strangers was probably my favorite part about riding the train. I loved being part of them; I needed to get somewhere just like all of them. Oddly enough I felt more comfortable among all these strangers on a train than my boyfriend and father in a car.

My stop came quicker than I’d like it. I stood up from my seat slowly, almost dragging my feet to the door. As soon as I stepped out I was hit with harsh winds making me button my jacket to the neck. I got to work, saying hi to everyone I past while making my way to my office. Right when I step into my office and set my things aside, the phone began to ring.

“Yes, Charlotte?” I asked.

“Ms. Hayes, you have a Mr. Collins on Line One. Says it’s urgent” the voice of my receptionist Charlotte says through the other end.

“Okay, Charlotte, put him through.” I replied.

“Elizabeth?” Connor’s voice sounded from the other end.

“Everything okay?” he’s never called me during work.

“Yes, of course Elizabeth. I’m just calling to inform you that tomorrow you will need to pick up those photographs from a Mr Styles. I will not be able to drive you, but I’m sure you’d rather take the train anyway.” I could hear him typing up something on the other end. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes; he never stops working.

“That’s fine, Connor. What time?” I replied

“Anytime between 8am-11am. He’s busy afterwards. Don’t be late, Elizabeth.” He sounded like my father. I assured him that I would not be late and ended the conversation quickly, not wanting to spend another moment on the phone with him.