"Birdy!" Theta calls from the other side of store's section, successfully making the associate helping her practically leap in surprise. I press my hand over my mouth to suppress a chuckle at the multitude of glares she's drawing. Still, Theta doesn't seem to notice as she bounds over to me and place a cloche on my head. "Just as I thought, it's perfect. You have to get it."

I glance at myself in the small mirror and smile when I notice why she's so adamant about this hat. Right on the side where the side of the hat is tucked upwards, it's secured with a decorative gem and peacock feather that stand out against the rich black of the fabric. "Well, it's better than one of the ones with the giant bows you keep trying to force on me." I tease as I admire my reflection.

"Come on, doll." She glances over her shoulder at my babysitter for the day before dropping her voice to a whisper. "We both know you don't need to be claiming single these days. No bow for you since you got a beau."

We both burst into a fit of giggles at the atrocious joke. "Theta Anders, you are completely ridiculous sometimes." She just rolls her eyes at me and waits for my answer. "I'm still getting it though."

Her cheers follow me as I make my way over to the counter and purchase my items. All the while, I take my dear sweet time to delay the inevitable comment from Jimmy—or James, as he forcefully corrects me—about going back and being locked away in the apartment for the rest of the day.

Luckily, I have a plan like I usually do.

"Miss Carter, it's time to leave." Jimmy reminds me as he hovers over my shoulder while I double check my bags. "Your father wants you home before three o' clock."

"Actually, there was a change of plans." I lie casually. My heels click against the floor, and James shuffles to keep up with me. "There are a few things I'd like to give Poppa in person. So we need to swing by the office before we go home."

"Ma'am," Jimmy starts, but I hold up a hand to him and pointedly ignore him until he corrects himself. He lets out a heavy sigh before speaking, "Elinor—you know that I'm not allowed to do that. You're father gave me specific instructions to—"

"—And I'm giving you mine." Jimmy's eyes widen when I round on him with crossed arms and a deathly serious look that I learned from my Pops. "My father hired you to watch over me, make sure I get home safely, and don't run off anywhere. Isn't that correct?"

"Yes, miss, but—"

"—But nothing, Jimmy. I will be perfectly fine at my father's office. After all, if he's so concerned, he'll be able to watch me himself while I'm there." I wait for an argument, but when none comes—just like I planned—I nod and hand him most of my bags. "Alright, now that the matter is settled, we should get going. I don't want to get stuck in traffic again."

Jimmy sighs, and I'll admit it makes me feel a little drunk on power to see him crumble like that. Perks of being raised under the tutelage and doting of Henry Carter, top architect and one of New York's most powerful—and richest—businessmen. I've learned the ways to getting what I want, and the stubbornness I inherited from my mother keeps me from every giving in easily.

Tommy tells me it's one reason he fell for me. Because I'm 'different from the other Sheba's who are all talk but no force.' Lucky for him, I feel in love with him cause he pushed back. Most people just give in and crumble right away like poor Jimmy, but not Tommy, he's got a fire all his own that makes mine burn brighter.

I watch the city fly by in a rush of honking cars, shouting people, and life going on in the most authentic way possible. Although, I don't really allow myself to appreciate it. I'm far too caught up in planning how to catch a moment with Tommy without getting caught to do so. Pops is bound to be hovering over me like I'm an infant in need of constant care.

Still, there's always a momentary lapse. A split second of a close-eyed sigh after a snarky comment, or a glance at another document. Each one a plentiful opportunity for a secretive glance. All which mean so much more under our parent's growing protests and disapproval.

"We're here, Miss." Jimmy calls from the front seat before climbing out and rushing—but failing—to open my door for me. "Is there anything I can carry for you?"

"No, I'll be fine." I tell him with a sigh. The poor boy tries so hard in the hopes of gaining favor with my father that it gets quite frustrating. "I'm going to head up while you park the car, Jimmy."

"It's James." He whispers underneath his breath as he turns away, which makes me laugh slightly to myself. I wait a moment until he's driven away before turning back to the building with a wide grin.

The elevator groans as I take it up to the seventh floor, which contains most of the executive offices. My bags tap against my skirt with every step in a silent reminder they're there. I hold my head high as the eyes of many of my father's staff trail after me. All the while, I continue on my way through the familiar maze of desks.

"Miss Carter, a pleasure to see you again." An all too familiar voice chimes from just behind me. I suppress a smile as I turn to face him. "You're looking lovely as always."

"I wish I could say the same for you, Mr. Parker."

"I am wounded, Elinor." Tommy places a hand over his heart in mock hurt. "My self-esteem will never recover."

"Well, I'm quite sure your ego will soften the blow and quickly restore it." I turn away from him and add a bit of extra sway to my hips as I leave. "Now, if you don't mind, I came to see my father."

"I'm afraid he's in a meeting at the moment. So it looks like you're stuck with me."

"My what a shame." I whisper happily as we both walk to my father's office to wait. Once we're out of earshot of others, I turn to Tommy. "So, I'm assuming your parents know too? Pops confronted me a few nights ago. Not to mention, he's had all the staff refuse to let me leave past seven."

Tommy lets out a sigh and runs a hand through his previously meticulously styled hair. "Oh, they know. I received quite the earful over you." He pauses and gives me a look. "Of course, you're entirely worth any lecture or punishment they could give."

"Oh am I now?" I tease with a grin as I settle myself into my father's chair. "Good to know that you think so highly of me."

Tommy releases a quick laugh as he shakes his head and leans back against the desk. "C'mon, Birdy, you and I both know that—"

"Well, well, if it isn't Miss Carter here to grace us with her wondrous presence." Christopher Martin interrupts with a slick grin from the doorway. I bite my tongue to hold back a snarky quip or face. "You're looking lovely this afternoon. Is that a new hat?"

"Actually it is. Thank you for noticing, Christopher." I retort and try to hide the disdain from my voice. "I was actually just asking if he had seen my father. Would you mind going and getting him for me?"

"It would be my honor, but he is currently in a private meeting." Christopher grins like a cat, which makes my stomach roil. Every time he looks at me, I suddenly feel like nothing more than a prey before its hunter, and I despise him for it. "Although, I would be happy to help you out in other ways."

My stomach churns at the mere thought of his underlying meanings, and Tommy's fingers curl into fists around the edge of the desk. I swear, if looks could kill a man, Christopher Martin would be nothing but dust under the hateful glare of Tommy and I.

"Actually, could you be a gem and get me a coke?" I bat my eyelashes at him to really persuade him. Luckily, he's too distracted at the moment to really think of a way out.

"Sure thing, doll. Be back in a jiffy." He grins with a wink as he leaves.

"Don't hurry back." I comment under my breath once he's gone. "I swear, one day, I'm going to let my dad catch him looking at me like that. Then he won't even have eyes to ogle me with."

"Or you could just let me at him." Tommy comments still glaring at the empty space that Christopher previously occupied. "I'll make sure he knows how to act around a lady."

"Or—and this is my favorite idea—I could take care of him. I wouldn't mind getting a few swings in myself." I stand up and take one of Tommy's clenched fists in my hands. My fingers rub over his palm and release the tension. "After all, I'm already taken by the best of them."

"Yeah, I suppose you are. Even if we can't always be open about it." There's an edge of sadness to his voice that makes me frown. Tommy has always been the caring, protective type. Never jealous, just worried. I know how much he wants to have those same moments everyone else does—to be able to wrap me in his arms and call me his to the world instead of just a jazz club.

"One day." I remind him with a delicate smile. "Just like you promised, right?"

He lifts my hands and presses a feathery kiss to my knuckles. "Yeah, one day, Birdy."

"You should probably go before my pops comes and finds us." I whisper sadly as I watch his thumb trace over the ridges of my knuckles. Always with the kindest, loving touch. "I don't want you to get into trouble with your folks either."

"You're still worth all the trouble in the world, Birdy." He tells me and presses a kiss to my forehead. "I'll go though—just for you."

Pops comes in a moment later with a sour look on his face. If I didn't know better, I might just think that he was sucking on a lemon or something. "Everything okay, Pops?" I question tentatively and shift on my feet. "You look upset."

His expression softens a little when he sees me. "I'm fine, Ellie." He gives me a brief hug before moving around his desk and sorting through his papers. "So what brings you here? And where is that James boy—isn't he's supposed to be with you?"

"James was parking the car." I tell him and hand him the small Bloomingdales' bag. "I came by because I got something for you this afternoon. I thought you could wear it to my birthday party?"

He looks at the tie for a long second before meeting my eyes with confusion. "Party? What party? Is it nearly your birthday already?"

"Yeah, Pops. I'm turning seventeen next week." My smile and hopes drop when the realization that he actually forgot settles in. "You told me you were gonna organize the party for it."

He pinches the bridge of his nose and avoids my gaze. "I'm sorry, Elinor. I don't think you'll have a party this year. What with your mother gone and your recent behavior, I don't think it's a good idea."

I grit my teeth and bite back the snappy comment threatening to be said. Instead, I just nod and hold back my disappointment. "That's fine. I suppose I can just celebrate with Theta and a few friends at dinner or something." His expression is still sour as if even that is too much, but he still says nothing. "I'm just gonna have James take me home then. Bye, Pops."

"Wait." He calls right as I make it to the doorway. I swallow my hurt and anger, replace them with a smile on his face, and turn to meet his gaze. "Was that the young Mr. Parker I saw leaving here earlier?"

My fingers curl into fists at the thought of another round of lectures, angry accusations, and further punishment or restrictions. "Yes, he was merely being a gentleman and walking me to your office while you were in your meeting." I watch as the familiar crease of frustration appears between my father's brow, which makes me smile softly and as innocently as possible. "I assure you, Poppa, we barely spoke. He was treating me as he would any visitor. Nothing more."

There's a lingering distrust and unbelief in his the blue eyes I used to wish I had inherited. Now, all I can see there is ice—cold and judgmental, and any sense of warm emotions bury deep beneath the worry. "I'm glad you finally decided to listen to me for once, Elinor." He finally says with a tense smile, and I know he doesn't believe a single word either of us just spoke. "Why don't you have James take you home, and then we can go out to dinner tonight. We'll consider it an early birthday celebration before we discuss the actual event."

"Sure thing, Poppa." I tell him with a bittersweet look. "I'll see you at home then?"

"Of course," He smiles, but there's something else there I haven't seen before. It's startling and cold. A shiver runs through me from the look, but he just keeps smiling as I turn to leave again. "Just be sure to send James in here before you go. I have a few matters I want to discuss with him."

I nod and send James in after me. Something twists in my stomach at the lingering feeling of my father's and my meeting. There was just something so unlike my father in his eyes, like the madness I picture when I read the Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. It was so calm yet unhinged.

"Here you go, darling." Christopher chimes from next to me and nearly makes me jump out of my skin. I look at him incredulously before noticing the bottle of coca-cola in his hand, which drips condensation onto my skin as I accept it with a dazed look. "What, no thank you?"

"Thank you, Christopher." I mumble before turning to him with an empty gaze as my thoughts are still lost. "Don't you have work to return to?" His eyes widen in surprise at my abrupt comment before he quickly scurries off.

Normally I would crack a smile at the sight of Christopher practically running away from me, but the churning in my stomach doesn't allow me much enjoyment. I sip on the cold drink in my hand with some ridiculous hope that it will provide a distraction of any sorts. The most is does is fill my mouth with carbonation.

I can feel eyes lingering on me. The gazes of Pop's employees wondering what has the boss's kid looking so dour. One pair of light brown eyes holds a concern that the rest lack, and it makes the hard edge of my frown soften under his gaze. I try to offer him a smile, but the best I can manage is less of a frown.

A part of me wishes I could walk over to him and speak freely—maybe hold his hand if I'm feeling scandalous. Yet, I know there's no way to do so. Because any moment one of our parents—or someone more than willing to rat us out to them—could see.

Then, there would be nothing for us. No more promises of "one day," jazz club nights, or goodbye kisses. Because if either of our fathers knew just how deep our feelings went, we'd be on a one way trip to boarding school or engaged to strangers so fast our heads would spin.

It's one risk I could never take. I love Tommy too much to chance what we have—no matter how little it may be. If I lost him, I think I would lose a piece of myself.

"Ready to go, Miss Carter?" Jimmy asks as he nervously turns his hat in his hands, and I'm still too entrapped in my own head to remind him to call me 'Elinor.' Instead, I just nod and adjust the bottle and purse in my hands as we walk out.

Something in the back of my mind acknowledges the oddity of James's current behavior. His fingers keep drumming against the steering wheel, and his eyes refuse to stay focused on a part of the road like usual. It strikes me as quite peculiar. Jimmy's always been the focused, stoic, and still type, and only one explanation for the change comes to mind.

"What did he say to you?"

"I don't know what you're asking about, Miss Carter." He tries to remain casual, but I can see it in his demeanor. He knows precisely what I'm talking about. I remain quiet and simply wait for him to break. A trickle of sweat appears on his brow as he rushes to come up with a plausible excuse. "Your father wanted to discuss my position and performance. Nothing more than that, Miss Carter."

"I don't believe you, James, but I obviously can't force you to tell me anything. Just know I will find out if it involves me. So, for your sake, I certainly hope it doesn't." I snap before making a point fo ignoring James for the rest of the way back home. Even as the elevator operator tries to make small talk, I remain completely silent.

Something is wrong. The way my father seemed so eerily calm in comparison to these last weeks and James's skittish behavior, it just doesn't settle right with me. I don't bother to even look back as I march into the apartment and slam the door to my room shut.

My hat collides with the lamp shade as I toss it aside in frustration. It only grows as I try to sort through the growing puzzle. Nothing seems to make much sense. The only thing that seems halfway normal is my relationship with Tommy, and it takes all my self control to not ring him up for his opinion.

There's a click, and my stomach drops down to the lobby, where it lands with a thunk. I race over to my door to confirm my worst assumption. The handle clicks but doesn't move in the slightest.

I rest my forehead against it with a heavy sigh. This must be what my father was talking to Jimmy about. Maybe he's truly gone round the bend. All I know for certain is that I'm trapped with no clear way out.