His Pounding Sea

Chapter 3

Elena's POV

I could hear the waves breaking on the beach, but I kept my eyes shut, listening to the quietness of the sounds of the breaking waves.

How have I missed this?

This was my happy place, and I was back once again. Even though I lived close to the beach, it never felt like home to me. My father sent the driver to fetch me at the airport last night. He was still out of town, and my mother had gone with him. They were scheduled to return home this morning.

I gave in and lazily pulled my ass out of bed. I guess I need to make myself decent before I meet the family.

I got into the shower, feeling the piping hot water burn and dance on my skin, soothing and washing away all the stress from last night's flight.

It took me a while to fall asleep last night; the images of the dream were haunting me every time I closed my eyes. Yet, when I eventually fell asleep, I was too exhausted to dream of anything.

The hot water did its magic, and I felt more relaxed.

I got dressed in a navy short-sleeve summer dress and tied my long hair in a ponytail.

I took a glance at myself in the mirror, smiling at myself, before leaving to go downstairs. I knew I looked decent enough.

I found Mom in the dining room, busy dishing up breakfast.

“Good morning, baby,” Mom greeted me, happy to see me.

“Morning Mom, how was your trip?” I asked, knowing that she most probably got bored and took off spending my father's money.

I internally chuckled, knowing that should my mother hear my thoughts, she would give me a mouthful about how their fortune was just as much hers to spend.

I made my way to the buffet table and helped myself to some fruit and yogurt. I could smell the bacon and eggs next to it, and the pancakes made my mouth water.

I will help myself after I have my yogurt, I told myself. There was no way that I would miss out on Julia’s pancakes.

“Very long and boring," my mother answered, "at least your father was there to hold my hand." She pulled a face to show how bored she was.

Yep, my mother went shopping...

“But interestingly enough, I found some gorgeous dresses and shoes," my mother answered, smiling and pleased with herself.

I couldn't help but return the smile.

My mother's superpower was her powerful smile. She could easily make any man’s heart miss a beat.

She most probably used the same powerful smile to capture my father's attention the first time they met.

“Mom... I am not sure if I should feel bad for all the boutique assistants who need to restock their shops or for my father's credit card." I teased.

She just pulled up her shoulders, smiling.

When I dished up my pancakes, Mom had started with her twenty thousand questions. Can you hear the annoyance in my voice?

It wasn't as if we never spoke over the phone.

We had the rule of calling at least once a day.

Mom would come and visit now and then, but it only lasted for a day or two. She got bored with me being in class or working. Complaining that I was just as bad as my father.

Dad, on the other hand, was too busy for the day trips. I missed him a lot.

I answered Mom's question as patiently as I could. She wanted to know how my work was going and if I still enjoyed it. How Mrs. Thompson and her husband were doing. About my nonexistent social life, school, and Jane, but when it came to the million-dollar question that I was asked daily, I rolled my eyes at her. She knew very well that I had no interest in them, but something in my face gave me away when the question did come up again.

I could feel my face heating up, and I looked away, avoiding her gaze.

Oh, Goddess, you met someone?" She asked, excited.

"Not really," I answered so quickly. It was the truth; I never found a face that belonged to the powerful, intoxicating scent...

She c****d her head to the side, a bit confused.

"I don't understand."

How would I explain something that I, myself, couldn't understand?

"That makes two of us," I tried to joke.

When the house phone rang, Mom excused herself from the table and went to attend to it.

Oddly, I thought Where is Julia, the housekeeper?

I could hear Mom talking on the phone. Not that I was eavesdropping on the conversation.

I attended to the food on my plate, giving in to get another Julia pancake.

When Mom returned a few minutes later and took her seat at the table, she continued as if no one had called.

My mother was acting oddly, I thought. What was Mom hiding?

I dropped my suspicion on Mom when my father entered the dining room.

I dropped my food back onto my plate and ran to my father, jumping into his arms like I was still five years old.

He did shy away from the gesture and wrapped his arms around me, giving me one of his signature bear hugs.

How have I missed this? I sighed in contentment as he released me.

My father was the only one on the phone. He didn't like calling me. Mom had to make him call me or force him to take the phone and talk to me.

I guess Mom kept Dad up to date with everything in my life.

“Morning Elena, my father said when he released me.

“Morning Father,” I said, greeted him back, and took my seat.

My father looked dashing like always, dressed for work in his gray suit. “Are you off to work?” I asked, surprised that he wasn't staying.

“Yes, just a quick business-related thing I need to sort out before the gathering, then I’m back...” my father answered and went quiet a second later.

“What gathering?” I asked carefully.

My mom gave my father a dirty look and shook her head.

I instantly became suspicious of the two.

What were the two hiding?

My father turned toward my mother, pleading for her to help him.

She c****d an eyebrow and stared at him, ignoring his silent plea, and took a sip of her coffee.

Yes, they were hiding something. This was not the best attempt they ever made, but not telling me made her nervous.

“What gathering?” I asked again, looking at both my father and then at my mother.

When I didn’t get a response, I knew.

My face heated up, knowing what they were busy planning—that is why they forced me to come back home!

F*ck, how blind and stupid can one be? I should have known!

“Please tell me you did not arrange what I think you did. Did you?” I asked as anger pushed up in me.

The two looked at me like deer caught in headlights.

Then my mother sat her cup of coffee down and turned to my father, c*****g her left eyebrow at him.

My father, in return, gave her a nod of the head, answering a silent question.

"We did arrange your birthday party..." My mom answered, waiting for me to burst out in anger.

I hate those sorts of things. That was one of the reasons I went to private school—to avoid these kinds of things.

“How many people?” I hissed through my teeth.

“Estimated two hundred and fifty, give or take a few,” my father answered, looking at me and forcing a smile back. He was enjoying this!

“When?” I asked, p*ssed, dreading the answer...

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