by Gun Brooke
I know we said we’d chat at the usual time. How about having dinner with Stacey and me instead? It’s pasta night.
She couldn’t get over how fast her nerves kicked in as soon as anything new developed that involved Addison. After three weeks of Skyping, at least once every other evening, she’d grown almost addicted to hearing that clear voice. They spoke of work mainly, that was a given, but before they logged off, personal topics would creep in, and Eleanor had confided things to Addison that she would be loath to tell anyone else. Nothing mind-blowing, merely little personal things that were special in a humble way.
Addison seemed to grasp this point. She never made a big deal about what Eleanor told her, but she listened intently, her head tilted and her big eyes narrow and completely focused.
Last night, Addison had asked her about how she came to inherit Face Exquisite. Even if Eleanor had held back, she hadn’t bitten Addison’s head off, which she would’ve done with anyone else that dared raise the subject. The thought of what her father did to her beloved Aunt Priscilla was still an open wound. What if more touchy subjects ended up on the agenda when she went to Addison’s house?
She’d considered coming up with an excuse, but so much pulled her toward Addison. She wasn’t fooling herself regarding just how much she wanted to see her. She was also curious to meet Stacey. At least she hoped she wouldn’t come across as too obvious once she was actually there. She had accepted via yet another text, and now it was time to get ready.
Staring at the rows of clothes in her walk-in closet, she groaned. What the hell did someone wear to an informal dinner in Newark? She hadn’t been to anything informal in ages. Business dinners, luncheons, banquets, lonely dinners in hotel rooms, and fancy dinners in restaurants—these she could easily dress for. How pathetic it was for her a mere family-type dinner to stump her. Eleanor tried to envision what Addison would be wearing. Jeans. Yes, denim, for sure. Stacey too. Did she even have any jeans? She walked over to where she kept her leisurewear. Ignoring the workout clothes, she found not just one, but three pairs of Levi’s hanging to the far left. Checking the size, she nodded absentmindedly. That would do. Now, what to wear with the jeans so she wouldn’t look like she was trying too hard. She snorted. As hard as she actually was.
She decided on a tailored, white button-down shirt, which she decided not to tuck into the jeans. A necklace she remembered Addison expressing admiration for and her new Hublot man’s watch completed the outfit nicely. The owner of the store had tried to talk her into buying the one-million-dollar watch, but even if she could afford it, she would never splurge on such a ridiculously expensive item. She did love watches though, and the Classic Fusion on her arm was a masterpiece.
Donning black ankle boots and a black leather jacket, Eleanor grabbed her purse and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon, and left her penthouse. Downstairs, one of the doormen had pulled up her Maserati Coupé. The black car hummed to life under her hands as she turned it out into the early evening Manhattan traffic. She used voice command to enter Addison’s address into her GPS system and soon was crossing the Hudson. For a moment it seemed she was leaving everything old and familiar behind and moving toward something entirely new.
After fifteen minutes, Eleanor turned into a homey street, a place where children played on the sidewalks, rode their bicycles, and no doubt went trick-or-treating to all the neighbors in the fall. She pulled over by a light-blue house boasting a large porch with a white railing.
Grabbing the bottle and her purse, she stepped out of the car and inhaled the crisp air. Could the air really be that different between Newark and Manhattan? It would seem so. The garden path was made of traditional flagstones and the lawn well kept. Was Addison into gardening as well, or perhaps Stacey? Somehow Eleanor doubted the latter.
To her surprise, the door was half open, and Eleanor stood indecisively just outside as she heard voices.
“You can’t go, Stacey. You know that,” Addison called out from inside the house.
“Everybody else is. It’s not like I’ll be doing anything dangerous.”
“I’m not signing the consent form.” Addison sounded sorrowful. “You have to realize—”
“I don’t have to realize anything. No Elphaba. Okay. But everyone’s going on this trip!”
“Everyone doesn’t have surgery coming up in less than two weeks, Stace.”
Eleanor had raised her hand to knock on the doorframe when a young girl backed up toward the doorway, gesturing wildly with her arms to someone inside the house. “Just so you know, I hate this. I hate you!”
“Really?” Eleanor said from where she stood less than a foot behind the girl. “I’m crushed.”
Pivoting, the girl who had to be Stacey Garr stared at her with big brown eyes. “Oh, God, Eleanor. Ms. Ashcroft. I didn’t mean you. I’m so sorry!” She held up her hands, palms forward. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“From where I stand, I think that apology might be better directed toward your sister?” Eleanor tilted her head, clearly seeing the family resemblance even if Stacey’s hair and eyes were darker and she was also taller than Addison.
“What? Oh. You heard it all, didn’t you?” Stacey slumped against the wall. “Please, come inside. If you haven’t changed your mind because of me.”
“It takes more than that to deter me.” Eleanor hid a smile and stepped inside. Stacey closed the door behind her.
“Eleanor’s here. Oops, I mean, Ms. Ashcroft.”
“Already? I mean, she is? You mean, inside?” Addison came through a door to the right, wearing a blue apron that said MESSY BUT CUTE! Her eyes grew big at the sight of Eleanor. “You’re here!” She checked her watch. “But—oh, God, it’s seven already? Fu—I mean, darn it.”
“Hello, Addison.” Eleanor looked back and forth between the two sisters. “I think I can guess why you lost track of time.”
“You can?” Addison glanced at Stacey. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you overheard that.”
“Part of it, yes.”
“Welcome to the family yelling contest.” Wiping her hands on the apron, Addison smiled broadly. Her hair was tied back in a high ponytail and she wore minimal makeup, which made her look so young and fresh, Eleanor’s heart ached. So unattainable.
“Stacey?” Eleanor said, looking pointedly at the younger of the Garr sisters.
“Um, yeah. Uh, sis? I’m sorry I yelled at you.” She sighed. “You know I don’t hate you. I love you. I’m just so disappointed.”
Eleanor could tell that Stacey was close to tears and decided to intervene. “When is this trip you can’t go on?” Eleanor handed the bottle of wine to Addison. “I hope you like this.”
“Thank you.” Addison glanced at the label. “Wow. I’m sure I’ll love it. It’ll go great with the pasta, even if my food won’t do it justice. Stace, Eleanor asked you something.”
“Oh, yeah. It’s on Tuesday of next week. We’re…I mean they’re going to an indoor waterpark and then dining out in Connecticut. A whole day of fun stuff. I really shouldn’t have been such a bitch to you. Oops, sorry again, Ms. Ashcroft.”
“Do call me Eleanor, Stacey.”
“Well, I knew all along, I think, that it’d be too much for me. Especially as I can go into surgery pretty much any day after next week. The sooner the better, Dr. Reimer said.”
“I could actually use your help that day, if it’s all right with your sister,” Eleanor said as she removed her jacket and gave it to Stacey to hang up.
“Really? Doing what?” Stacey’s face lit up. “I’d do anything rather than sit in school and be bored out of my mind. Lick stamps. Empty bins. Anything.”
Eleanor chuckled. “What I have in mind should be a little more challenging and fun than licking stamps.” For some reason, Eleanor’s gaze shifted to Addison, who was stirring something smelling very good in a large pot on the stove. The kitchen was homey, if a bit worn, with a breakfast nook where a round table was set for three. “I’m planning to spen
d all of Tuesday and Wednesday at Face Exquisite, and if Addison says it’s all right, you can be my personal assistant and help me keep track of all the samples. We’re going to talk a lot about makeup, advertising, and promotion. Unless that bores you to tears, of course. I’d pay you an assistant-level salary.”
“Addie? Please say yes.” Stacey smiled tremulously as Addison was already nodding. “Yes? Oh, cool. Thank you!” Stacey hugged her sister and then turned to Eleanor, looking like she was ready to embrace her as well. Then she caught herself and merely pushed her hands into her back pockets. “Oh, this is awesome. Thanks, Eleanor. I’ll do my best. You won’t regret this. I’ve got to tell Maureen. Call me when dinner’s ready. I’ll come help.” She left the kitchen before anyone had a chance to say anything else.
“So that’s Stacey,” Eleanor said matter-of-factly. “Charming girl.” She walked up to Addison and kissed her cheek. “Hello, Addison.”
“Oh. Hi.” Blushing faintly, Addison touched the cheek Eleanor had kissed. “You look great. Very relaxed. I don’t think I’ve seen you quite this casual. If you don’t count the sleepwear during our Skype sessions.” The pink hue left her cheeks. “Oh, God. I can’t believe I said that.” She covered her eyes with her hand. “Don’t listen to me. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Some mineral water would be lovely, thank you.” Eleanor could hardly breathe but did her best to hide it. Addison’s cheek was so soft and the feeling still lingered on her lips, almost like a humming sensation. Then there was the matter of her thundering heart. How was it possible to react this way because of a simple kiss on the cheek? Because it’s her.
“Coming right up.” Addison dove into the fridge and came out with two bottles. She poured some into a tall glass after adding a few large ice cubes. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
“No. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that for Stacey. That was very sweet of you. She was pretty upset, as I’m sure you could tell.” Addison rubbed her temple. “Lately I’ve had to slam the brakes on practically everything Stacey loves to do. It’s hard to be the one who delivers the disappointments all the time. I’m sure she feels like all I do is say ‘no’ nowadays, and she’s right. It sucks.”
“And here I swoop in and act like a fairy godmother.” Eleanor wanted to kick herself. “I didn’t mean to make you out to be the ‘bad cop,’ Addison.”
“Hey, don’t even think that. If I have to be ‘bad cop’ to keep her alive and healthy enough to sustain surgery, I will. I know Stace loves me no matter what she yells at me across the house. And for you, whom she already idolizes in many ways, to come here and show her she can be useful and that you trust her to still do a good job—that’s freaking awesome.” Addison’s eyes shone. “I keep saying thank you but it’s not enough. Not really.”
“Nonsense. You don’t have to thank me.” Eleanor glanced around her. “If you have a corkscrew I can open the cabernet sauvignon I brought. It should breathe a little.”
“Sure. Top drawer.”
Eleanor pulled out the corkscrew, which turned out to have nothing in common with the high-tech version she had mounted on her kitchen wall at the penthouse. “Let’s see if I can still do low-tech,” Eleanor said, pursing her lips. As it turned out, the old-fashioned way worked very well and the cork came out without mishap. “Voilà.”
“Great. Want to take a look at our house? It’s not big, so it’ll be a quick tour.” Addison stood there, looking quite adorable in her blue apron with her hands clasped behind her back.
“Absolutely.” In fact, she was very curious. Especially about Addison’s private space in this modest house.
“Well, you know the kitchen intimately now, as you know where I keep the corkscrew. Over here is the living room, which also doubles as our family room and entertainment room.” Addison began the tour through the house where she and Stacey grew up and later inherited when their parents died. “Upstairs we have the bedrooms and the room that I do the filming in. Most of the filming. Sometimes I use other rooms or even go outdoors, depending on which type of film it is.” Walking up the stairs, Addison opened the door to her little home studio first. “See? Not very big.”
“In your video clips it looks like it’s much bigger. You do a great job, Addison, especially since you’ve had to fix all of this and get the equipment all on your own.” She glanced at some plastic containers filling most of the far wall, which was out of the viewers’ sight when Addison filmed. “What on earth is all that?”
“I told you how I felt people would think I wasn’t credible if I allowed any of the brands to pay for anything, or even send me free stuff. As you can see, that still happens. When it does and I can’t return it for some reason, I hold competitions or raffles and sort of pay it forward that way.” Addison turned to walk out of the room, which Eleanor wasn’t prepared for. Suddenly they were standing well within each other’s personal space, face to face. “Oh. Sorry.”
“It’s all right.” Eleanor greedily inhaled that special scent that was all Addison, with something spicy added to it, perhaps from the cooking. “You smell so good.”
“I—I do? It’s just in-shower lotion. No perfume. Well, not today.” Addison then bent forward a little, inhaling as she closed her eyes. “You’re wearing something soft, a little dark, but not heavy. What is it?”
“Burberry Body.” Eleanor could hardly speak when Addison was this near.
“Wonderful. It suits you.” She opened her eyes and seemed to realize how close she was. “Um. To the right again is my bedroom. There.” Pointing, she looked confused when Eleanor didn’t move.
She felt rooted in place and couldn’t force her feet to budge. Only a floor lamp over by the window lit the room and also cast enticing shadows over Addison’s soft features. Eleanor clenched her hands hard to make them behave and not do something completely inappropriate.
Addison’s hands were under no such restraints, it would seem. Cupping Eleanor’s cheek in her right hand, Addison whispered, “You’re stunning, Ellie. Thank you for coming tonight.” She slid her fingers along Eleanor’s jawline, which nearly made her knees buckle.
“My pleasure.” God. Eleanor cleared her voice. “I mean, I’m glad to be here.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” Lowering her hand, Addison looked into Eleanor’s eyes, as if transfixed. “I admit, I’ve been nervous as hell all day. I even rehearsed what to say when I opened the door, and then, as it turns out, it all went to hell anyway when you stepped right into us yelling like banshees.”
“I didn’t mind.” Eleanor glanced down. “I like your apron. I happen to agree.”
“Agree? With what?” Addison glanced down her front and then snapped her eyes back up again. “You’re joking.”
“I’m doing nothing of the kind. You’re looking wonderfully tousled and definitely cute.” She smiled as Addison became speechless for the second time this evening.
“Cute,” Addison finally managed to say with a groan. “I can’t believe it.”
“Very cute.” Eleanor pushed a wavy strand of auburn hair behind Addison’s delicate ear. “Slightly messy.”
“Ellie, you—you shouldn’t say stuff like that. And we shouldn’t touch…like that.” Clearly trembling now, Addison pressed her fingers to her lips.
Pulling the hand away from Addison’s full, curvy lips, Eleanor held on to it and raised it to her face. She placed it back against her cheek and then slowly slid it forward until she could press her lips to Addison’s palm.
Addison in turn shook her head slowly. “Ellie…”
“Addison…” Eleanor whispered against the hand she was holding. “Please.”
“Sis? You up here? Can Maureen come over too? Is there enough food?” Stacey’s voice echoed throughout the house.
Eleanor let go of Addison and took a quick step back.
Her eyes huge, Addison cleared her throat. “Sure, Stace. If her parents say it’s okay.”
“Cool. Th
anks!” Stacey yelled.
“We better go down to the kitchen and make sure I have enough garlic bread to go around.” Addison moved past Eleanor and headed down the stairs. “We can finish the tour later.”
Eleanor was still dizzy from the emotions infusing every part of her. Attraction. Arousal. She reeled herself in and followed Addison down the narrow stairs. Yes, they would finish the tour later. She would insist on it, as she knew very well which room was left to explore. Addison’s bedroom.
Chapter Twelve
It took Addison only a few moments to realize that choosing spaghetti for pasta night when she was having a special someone visit was a mistake. It was impossible to eat without making a mess. Well, unless you were Eleanor Ashcroft with perfect table manners.
Stacey and Maureen weren’t being helpful either. They twirled the spaghetti around their forks but ended up slurping the last inches while giggling.
“I think the two of you need to learn the proper way to eat spaghetti from Eleanor,” Addison said, and waved her fork admonishingly.
“Look who’s talking,” Stacey said, pointing at Addison’s plate. “You’re not exactly in a position to criticize too much, are you?”
Addison glanced down and saw tiny splatters of pasta sauce on the table around her plate. “Typical,” she said, and sighed. “And here I was, trying to impress our guest.” She glanced up just in time to see Stacey wiggle her eyebrows suggestively. “Don’t even go there, sis.” Addison could see Stacey was deep into one of the silly moods that she and Maureen tended to lapse into in the evenings.
“Aw, come on, Addie,” Stacey said. “I’d never tell Eleanor—oops. I’m being quiet now.” She could obviously comprehend that she was moving toward being in serious trouble.
“Tell me what?” Eleanor asked, dabbing delicately with her napkin at the corner of her mouth.
“Oh, you’re in trouble now,” Maureen said, bumping Stacey’s shoulder. “You and your big mouth.”
“Hey, whose side are you on?” Stacey pouted and bumped her friend back. “I’m just kidding, Eleanor. Don’t mind me.”