by Ellis, C. R.
“Unnecessary trouble?” I repeated incredulously, turning to pace the yard as pieces fell into place in my mind. “I know it was an impossible situation, but she deserved to know. Keeping something like this from her feels…wrong. She still has questions, and I don’t blame her. Do you realize the position this puts me in?”
“Do you realize Elliot suffered from nightmares into her teens?” George asked, his voice bordering between apologetic and frustrated. “You’ve seen the broad strokes of Elliot’s scars from that time in her life. We saw the lasting damage it caused.”
Those broad strokes I had seen growing up were enough for me to have reservations about her meeting Helen, but everyone deserved closure, and that’s exactly what Elliot wanted back then.
What she probably still wanted.
She’ll hate me for taking that chance away from her.
I stood by my decision to tell them, but that didn’t stop the tiny fissures of regret from slowly cracking my resolve.
Chapter 12
Elliot
Bright lights, followed by a loud thud, pulled me out of blissful slumber. Well, semi-blissful, considering it felt like I’d only just drifted off to sleep minutes ago. That was my new normal, though. With everything going on in my life right now, my brain refused to shut off for something as trivial as sleep.
By the time I got home Saturday night, Sophia had locked herself in her room and refused to come out, which was just as well; I still wasn’t ready to talk to her about Helen three days later.
“El, what the hell?” Jasmine groaned, rubbing her knee after untangling her feet from the box she’d tripped over.
I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the overhead lights of the conference room. I’d fallen asleep at the table while doing research and making a PowerPoint to present my idea for the inn to Jas and Jade.
“Crap. Sorry, Jas. Guess I made a bit of a mess. I’ll get it cleaned up.” I finger-combed my hair and rolled my neck back and forth, trying to expel the aching stiffness.
She frowned, taking in my appearance and the scattered papers that littered the table and floor around me. “It’s fine. I’m not worried about the mess. Though we should definitely fix this before Jade comes in and her little neat-freak heart stops beating. I meant 'what the hell', as in, what is all of this?”
“I, uh, well…there’s something I wanted to talk to you and Jade about.”
Jas lifted her brows into matching arches. “Must be serious if you were willing to sacrifice sleep for it. Everything okay? You seem…out of sorts.”
I bit my lip and considered her question.
I want to take on a potentially insane professional venture on top of the record-setting wedding season we’re wrapping up. My personal life is full of more unknowns than a freaking crime show. And now I have the neck stiffness of an eighty-year-old because I fell asleep in the most awkward position possible. So…yeah, everything’s just peachy.
“El?” she prompted, flipping a lock of my golden hair over my shoulder.
“Short answer? Everything’s fine. Mostly. The long answer will have to wait until we can all go out for drinks.” I sighed, realizing that answer probably stoked the flames of her curiosity. “Look, I promise I’ll explain later, but for now can we just clean this up before Jade murders me? I think she’s got a client coming in at nine. And I need to run home to shower before my first appointment.”
Jas acquiesced, but only after I agreed to a girls’ night tonight.
* * *
I was the last to arrive at Rae of Light, our usual after-work-bar that boasted a gorgeous view of Austin in the back garden area, as well as an array of great drinks at affordable happy hour prices.
Carleigh already had plans for the night, so it was just the three of us.
Jade smiled and slid a nearly-overflowing margarita glass toward me as soon as I sat down. “Mango, just for you.”
“Mango margaritas and fried pickles? You guys must really be worried about me,” I replied before taking a sip and reaching for a pickle slice.
“Not worried. More like…moderately concerned,” Jade corrected.
“Those are synonyms, Jade.”
“Semantics aside,” Jasmine interjected. “What’s going on, El? Start with whatever it was you were working on last night, then we’ll get to the Bryce thing.”
I choked on my drink, startled by her leap. “What Bryce thing?”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. We might both be blonde, but let’s not pretend either of us is dumb, El. He’s hot and obviously into you, and you’ve got history, so there’s definitely a ‘Bryce thing’ to discuss.”
“You and Dean had history, yet you spent years ignoring the other’s existence,” I deflected.
Jade’s brows rose, and she buried her smile behind her water glass.
“Yeah, and look how that turned out,” Jas countered, lifting her left hand and wiggling her ring finger at me. Her engagement ring and wedding band dazzled brilliantly, thanks to the low-hanging light above us. “Now we spend every night making up for lost time. Seriously. As a joke, I asked him how much sex he thinks we missed out on during those six years, and he totally flipped out when he did the math. He thinks it’s only right that we try to make up for lost sex.”
“Whew! I was starting to worry my brother’s sex life wouldn’t come up in conversation tonight,” Jade mocked.
Jas leaned toward her BFF-slash-sister-in-law and bumped her shoulder. “That was tame, JP, and you know it. It’s not like I went into detail about our fuck-et list…”
Jade turned to me. “El, change the subject, please, before I’m forced to pull a Van Gogh and cut my ear off with this butter knife.”
“Actually, fun fact—he used a razor, not a knife,” I rattled off. “Can you imagine—”
“Cute attempt to stall, Kincaid,” Jasmine inserted. “But we’re not looking for an art history lesson. Now, what was it you needed to talk to us about?”
I took a deep breath and forced myself to stop fidgeting with my margarita glass. Here goes nothing. “Y’all know how much I love FMK and couldn’t imagine not working with you guys.” They both nodded in agreement. “Well…I haven’t worked out every detail yet, but I want to add a wedding venue to the inn’s property. There’s a spot that would be perfect for ceremonies, and I’ve got a couple of ideas for reception options. With the inn itself being on-site, it’s the total package. I really think it has the potential to be a massive success. And obviously it would be FMK-exclusive. I know this is a lot to consider, and I’m just kind of throwing it at you guys out of the blue, but what do y’all think?”
Jade was the first to snap out of her shock as a broad smile lit up her entire face. “I can’t speak for Jas, but I love it. Seriously, El. I was a little worried when you told us about George and Millie’s offer because I knew there was a chance we’d lose you, but I would’ve supported you in any decision. This is like you getting to have your cake and us eating it too.”
Jasmine nodded enthusiastically. “Jade can speak for me because I couldn’t have said it any better myself. Holy shit,” she squealed, scooting around in the booth to my side and pulling me into a hug. I laughed at the unexpected gesture, but returned her embrace with equal fervor. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Elliot. I never doubted your abilities, but you’ve stepped up in a big way over the last year, and you’ve amazed me at every turn. I love everything about this idea, especially the fact that we’d get to keep you.”
More often than not, Jas joked her way out of serious conversations. Or, at least the old Jasmine did. The old Jasmine was uncomfortable with deep conversations of any kind—letting her guard down came only on the rarest of occasions. But the new Jas was practically an emotional open book.
“Really?” I asked, looking between my bosses-turned-friends and fighting the wave of excitement surging through my limbs.
“No, we got all emotional and sincere just to screw with you.”
Jad
e rolled her eyes and slapped Jasmine’s arm. “You would ruin the moment with sarcasm.” She turned to me, ignoring Jasmine’s attempt at feigning offense. “Yes, we’re interested, El. Okay, I’m going to get y’all refills, and we’re going to talk details.”
We spent the next hour drinking celebratory margaritas and brainstorming ideas, and I’d never been more excited to talk shop outside of working hours. The real progress and plans would come eventually, but for now, I was perfectly content to spend the evening laughing and jotting down notes on cocktail napkins.
It wasn’t until we were in the parking lot that Jasmine realized I’d successfully avoided discussing Bryce—which wasn’t exactly easy, considering how many times his name almost slipped past my lips when we talked about designs for a reception hall.
When it came to Bryce, my feelings were a jumbled mess. It still stung that he hadn’t told me about Peyton sooner, but a part of me understood why he didn’t. I had no idea where we stood. After talking to Milo, my only concern had been getting to Sophia. But now I worried Bryce probably thought I’d run from our date—from him—because of everything that happened between us.
Honestly, after getting that phone call, the truth bomb Bryce dropped on me slipped down the priority ladder in my mind. It wasn’t that I didn’t care; more like my brain’s way of coping with all the chaos was to choose one facet to focus on.
The anxiety caused by whatever was or wasn’t happening with Helen was paralyzing and left no room in my mind for anything else.
Now that the dust had settled, I could think clearly enough to make a few realizations about things with Bryce.
One—Bryce having a daughter definitely added another layer of complication to the situation.
Two—Bryce having a daughter definitely didn’t change the fact that, until it came to a screeching halt, I'd had more fun with him than I’d ever had on a first date. Or any date, really.
Three—no matter which road we took, I owed Bryce an apology for ruining our night.
Jade honked and waved on her way out of the parking lot, pulling me out of my thoughts. We waved back, and I was about to turn toward my car when Jas cleared her throat, her golden brown eyes softening with sincerity.
“Did something happen with Bryce? Or was it something non-Bryce related? You were mumbling in your sleep this morning about…Helen. Something about being like her…”
My silence all but confirmed her suspicion that it was the latter.
The corners of her mouth pulled down, sympathy painting her features. “We’re here for you, y’know. Take it from me, El—the deeper you bury whatever it is you’re keeping inside, the more control you give up. Taking back control comes from within, but it helps when you let friends in. We’ve got shovels, too.”
The underlying promise in her words almost made me open up on the spot. “Thanks, Jas. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“The offer has no expiration date, El. Whenever you’re ready.” She gave my hand one more quick squeeze before strolling toward her Mustang.
Jasmine’s shovel comment sent my mind tumbling back to Bryce, and I tried to nail down exactly what I was feeling about us. Before I could summon the nerve to text him, my phone lit up with a text from Sophia.
SOPHIA:Can we talk about the Helen elephant (Helephant?) in the apartment? I’ll grab the wine on my way home.
ELLIOT:Perfect. There’ something else I want to talk about too…I’ve got an idea for the inn.
Sophia replied with a thumbs up and two wine glass emojis.
* * *
“Just like that? You’re sure?” I asked, staring at my sister while she calmly sipped her wine like I hadn’t just asked her to take a Grand-Canyon-sized leap of faith.
For some reason, I hadn’t actually expected her to immediately jump on board, much less express interest in running the inn or venue with me.
Her milk-chocolate-colored eyes met mine as she nodded. “Just like that. El, I trust you with my life. Of course I trust your judgment about the inn and its potential. You’ve done your research so far, and I know you’ll do your due diligence to figure out the rest.” She set her wine glass down on the coffee table and scooted closer to me on the couch, sighing. “I’ll admit that, as much as I’d love to see the inn renovated and brought back to life, I’ve never actually imagined myself being the one to run it. But, El, if this is your dream, I’m happy to jump on board with you. I’ve loved working for the Millers, but being a nanny was always going to be short-term. I just haven’t figured out what comes next.”
“Soph, you’re twenty-one. Plenty of college grads don’t stroll off the stage with a perfect plan for anything beyond getting wasted that night.”
“You did.”
“I was lucky. Don’t get me wrong, doing this with you would be a dream, but I also don’t want you to feel obligated to say yes. Promise me you’ll let me know the second you get the urge to spread your wings if you decide it’s not what you want.”
She shrugged. “I don’t really know what I want. But I do know that I want this for you.”
I smiled and squeezed her hand. “So…about the Helephant…”
“I want to meet her.”
“Soph…” I trailed off, needing to organize my thoughts before replying. I pushed off the couch and stood to pace the living room. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. How do you even know the woman you found is really her?”
Sophia grabbed her phone and pulled up a picture before turning it toward me. “This is how.”
My eyes fell to the photo on her screen, and I nearly dropped my wine glass when I got closer.
In the photo was a smiling woman with dark, shoulder-length hair, milk chocolate eyes, a button nose, high cheekbones, and a tiny scar by her left temple. I remember the day Helen got that scar.
I forced myself to study the picture again, but another scan didn’t change the fact that, though I shared her facial structure and shape, she looked exactly how I imagined Sophia would look fifteen or twenty years from now.
“Wow.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Crazy, right? I don’t know how meeting her would work, but El, I have to see this through. And I know you said you wanted nothing to do with her, but I don’t want this to be something you regret one day. Just promise me you’ll think about it.”
She had a point.
But I’d already been burned by Helen too many times.
“Deal. As long as you promise me you won’t get your hopes up. Take things one step at a time with her. Sharing DNA with someone doesn’t make them family. Nor does it merit placing blind faith in them. Trust is earned, not given, Soph. Please don’t lose sight of that.”
“I know, El. I know we don’t know anything about her, but I can’t stop thinking this is our chance to get answers. The other night, I was just overwhelmed and freaked out a little. But I can do this. I need to do this.”
I sighed, knowing by the resolution in her voice that nothing I said would change her mind.
“Then we’ll do it together.”
I’ve been through this before. I can do it again.
Only, this time…it’ll be on my terms.
Chapter 13
Elliot
I’d always been a firm believer in the philosophy that if you want someone in your life, you’ll make time for them. Period. No matter what.
And I wanted Bryce in my life.
As a friend, if nothing else.
I shoved aside the concern and reservations I felt about mixing business with pleasure and vowed to fix things with him to get us back on the right track, whatever that might be.
Without giving myself the chance to chicken out, I shot him a quick text between meetings.
ELLIOT:Hey. I feel terrible about the other night. Can we talk? Tonight?
BRYCE:I’d like that. Dinner at my place?
ELLIOT:Perfect. I’ll cook. Maybe you’ll get lucky and I’ll even bring a salad. ;)
BRYCE:It’s not
nice to tease a guy about getting lucky, El.
ELLIOT: OMG! So not what I meant, you gutter-minded perv. *Face-palm*
BRYCE:Freudian slip, I’m sure. ;)
BRYCE:And just so you know, I always get lucky.
BRYCE:I mean, “I’m always lucky.”
ELLIOT:Ugh. I rescind my salad offer. No more luck for you.
BRYCE:We’ll see about that.
I loved that things came so naturally with him. That a few teasing words could convey so much.
I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face the rest of the morning, and I felt it creep back into place by the time I bolted out of the office for the day.
With an extra pep in my step, I quickly ran into a grocery store to pick up the ingredients for my chicken parmigiana recipe. Other than getting Bryce's address and confirming he had eggs, flour, olive oil, and ground pepper, we hadn’t texted since this morning, and I couldn’t deny how excited I was to see him. I was committed to leaving work and other distractions behind and just spending time with Bryce. I owed him—and myself—that much.
Without even checking the address, I knew Bryce’s house as soon as I turned down his street and saw the bright yellow door and a black Range Rover in the driveway. The front was cute, with gray siding and a garden in front of the small porch. A blue plastic swing hung from the yard’s only tree, and I smiled at how simple, yet homey, it all felt.
Throwing my purse over one shoulder, I hooked a reusable freezer bag over each arm and walked up to the yellow door. It swung open before I could even lift a hand to knock.