A-Minor

Paddy felt like crap. Pure, stinky, filthy crap. Her legs were numb from sitting, she had a headache, and her fingers wouldn't stop shaking. Since she'd booked her ticket on such short notice, she'd been seated next to an extremely talkative grandmother. The elderly woman boasted about her grandchildren and Paddy wondered if all grandmothers were that way.

Once the plane landed, Paddy couldn't sit still. If her fingers weren't moving, her legs were, and if not those, then some other body part. She couldn't believe she'd actually ran away. All her life she'd done what had been told of her. Gone to her tutoring sessions, yoga classes, every sick therapist appointment, even though she hated it all.

Paddy knew why, of course. No one expected any less of the high class heiress. She dined, walked, and talked with class. Hell, she was class. She always did what she was supposed to, and expected to, just because. Maybe it was because she had no backbone. Or maybe it was because it was that she was raised accordingly.

No matter, Paddy knew when the press found out sweet little Paddy had run away, that image would shatter. Oddly, Paddy didn't care. She'd put up with all of the lies and secrets for far to long. It was time for the tables to turn. No one needed to know where she was going, and how she'd gotten there.

Paddy looked around the coffee shop she'd taken a taxi too. In New York it was 11 am, and Paddy was definitely feeling the time difference. She hadn't slept in almost 14 hours. Paddy ordered a large coffee, and tiredly signed on to an open computer. She took a long sip of the blazing liquid and pulled up a web browser. Her fingers moved nimbly over the keyboard, and she blinked slowly.

Paddy clicked on the link to Paddalin Co., and jotted down the New York address. The building was located in Manhattan. Paddy called up a cab and quickly got in, relishing in the warm, seats. She rested her head back and closed her eyes. The next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake by the cab driver. He chuckled, as she dazedly got out, handing over a few bills.

Once the car sped away, Paddy gazed up at the building. Its perfectly polished glass windows, and 46 stories loomed over her almost mockingly. The place looked expensive and high class. It all but screamed 'Paddalin'. Paddy breathed out through her nose, and walked in slowly.

Business suits zoomed past Paddy's eyes momentarily blinding her. She noticed the security guard watching her intently, and smoothed down her hair. She'd slipped on her glasses in the airport, so she took those off as well. Her eyes caught sight of the directory and she ran her finger over the letters and numbers.

Abraham, Jonathan -- Abraham & Speilstein Co. -- 32.44
Campbell, Christopher -- Campbell Soups Co. -- 40.11
Droguard, Caroline -- Carol Anatomy Co. -- 12.56
Paddalin, Thomas -- Paddalin Co. -- 39.01

Paddy's finger seemed to burn above her grandfathers name. With almost jelly-like legs, Paddy walked towards the gold elevators. A hand clamped down on her shoulder and Paddy screamed and spun around. The large security guard stared down at her with hard brown eyes.

"Where exactly are you headed, miss?" his voice was stern, filled with authority. Paddy swallowed nervously.

"39th floor," said Paddy. She stared at the floor, hoping he didn't recognize her. She waited a few seconds before she heard his gruff voice once again.

"Who are you looking for? I cannot let you just go up without notifying who you are going to see. Have you made an appointment, or are you here with your parents?" Paddy stiffened and blinked. She let out a breath and gazed up at the man, widening her eyes slightly.

The man watched her in confusion, before he settled on her eyes and sucked in a low breath. Paddy could tell he still didn't know who she was, just that she was a Paddalin. "I apologize Miss Paddalin. Shall I alert Mr. Paddalin and let him know you are here?" His hand gripped his walkie talkie almost painfully, as though he wanted to leave as soon as possible.

Paddy shook her head and murmured, "I'd like to surprise him, if you don't mind." The man nodded, and bid her a great day. Paddy noticed others glance at her, in mild shock. Paddy boarded the elevator and watched the white light shine upon the increasing numbers. It was all she could as to not crumble onto the ground in a pile of nerves.

She was finally meeting her grandfather. Her blood outside of her father and unknown mother. Her fingers just wouldn't stop shaking. Once the '39' lit up, Paddy ran her fingers over the tips of her hair. The doors slid open and Paddy walked into the sterile looking office.

Maybe it was luck, or a family brain wave, but at the very moment Paddy stepped out of the elevators, large oak doors opened to reveal none other than Thomas Paddalin himself. The receptionist quickly stood up and muttered a 'good evening, sir' as he brushed past her. He headed for the elevators but paused at the entirely to familiar teenager standing in front of it.

Paddy swore and covered her mouth quickly afterward. Thomas Paddalin was the complete copy of her father. His stance was the same. Though his hair was thinning and gray, he still maintained his youthful features. His green eyes stared intently into Paddy's identical pair. His starched pinstripe suit bunched slightly as he ran a hand over his face. He knew.

"Eleanore," he murmured. His voice was gruff and stern, but Paddy didn't both to flinch. "why are you here?"

She opened her mouth but closed it. Why was she here? Thomas reached around her to press the button for the elevator. When the doors opened, Paddy walked silently into it, Thomas following.

"Who is my mother?" Paddy all but whispered. Thomas chuckled darkly.

"I knew it wouldn't work," he muttered, "You father was a fool. He was irresponsible and insolent and he paid for it," Thomas turned to face Paddy. "in multiple ways. I take it he does not know your here?"

Paddy made a sound between a whimper and a snarl. Thomas laughed once again. Paddy balled her hands into fists and glared at the ground. She couldn't look at Thomas.

"I'll that as a no. So how did figure dear Murium wasn't your mother? Did you overhear Henry talking about her?"

Paddy wanted to scream 'About WHO?', but withheld. She breathed in deeply, and stared at her boots. Paddy shook her head mutely. She could feel Thomas' confusion, rather than hear it.

"I saw a book. It was an art book and the name said Helena S. Murium looks nothing like me, though I suppose you knew that," she spat. Had she looked up, Paddy would have seen Thomas's horrified expression.

The door slid open with a ding. "Like mother, like daughter," Was all he said.

♫♫♫

Thomas and Grace Paddalin resided in a rather run down looking Brownstone on the wealthier side of Manhattan. Or so it appeared. The inside was absolutely breathtaking. It was something completely out of a magazine.

The foyer held a Swarvoski chandelier that just about gleamed in the light of the moon. Paddy could smell turkey wafting from the kitchen, and felt her stomach growl. To the right, a cozy living area took residence. The walls were a warm blue, the couches white, and the carpet a sandy gold. Paddy was instantly reminded of Malibu Beach.

After a small lunch, Thomas had to go back to work, but dropped Paddy off at his home. Paddy figured it was a sick joke when the driver opened the door in front of the townhouse, but now knew better. No one would think this place held just about one of the richest men in America.

Paddy's thoughts were interrupted when the all too familiar sound of heels clacked against the marble floors. A tall, blonde haired woman came out, her blue eyes wide as she took in Paddy. She ran her hand down the front of her dress and held her stomach.

"My God," was all she said. Paddy looked down at her ever famous boots. "Oh dear God, Eleanore? Is that really you?" And then Paddy was being hugged tightly. She blinked back tears, as she felt her grandmothers grip tighten. Tentatively, she wrapped her arms around the thin woman.

Once they pulled apart, Grace held her granddaughter at an arms length and stared at her. Her eyes glistened with tears and she dabbed at her eyes with her fingers. Paddy ran her hand through her hair, wincing at she pulled at a knot.

"Eleanore, I can't believe your here. You are so big! How old are you know, 16?" Paddy shook her head and stared down.

"I'll be in four months," she muttered.

"My God, I don't mean to sound rude but why are you here? Are you in trouble, has something happened? Does your father know your here?" Paddy rocked on heels lightly before she let a solitary tear run down her cheek. Others soon followed, and before she knew it, Paddy was crying for the first time in her life.