She scrunched her nose. “That is kind of funny.”
“Char, what am I going to do?”
“You’re going to start by having something real to eat.” Char stood and walked to the kitchen. “Then we’re going to get online and find you work ASAP.”
Elle scoffed to herself. She didn’t want to just find work. Obviously, that would be the correct course of events: lose a job, find another, pay rent, live. But how long would she need to keep working these mediocre jobs to prove that she was capable of so much more.
“Until you’re dead.” Char approached her with a cup of hot tea.
“I have got to stop talking to myself,” Elle shook her head. “Hey maybe there’s something to that party planning hotline idea…”
“A what?”
“Never mind; no one was around to hear that one.” she half-joked.
“You have nothing in your freezer and I don’t know how long those leftovers have been in your fridge, so I put on some pasta.”
Elle nodded.
“Alright, I came here straight from work so I need to go home to feed my pets. Please promise me you’ll go to sleep as soon as you’ve eaten.”
“I won’t have much of a choice; I’ve slept a total of three hours in the last day and a half.”
After Char left, Elle swallowed down most of her dinner but there was no way she could sleep. At nearly ten o’clock, she was still staring up at the dark ceiling in her bedroom listening to the unwavering pattering at her window. Deciding to endure it rather than tune it out, she pulled aside her drapes and opened her window, breathing in the mist penetrating her screen.
“Useless,” she admitted, heartache striking again as she pictured his face. She wanted to hate him for not giving her the chance to explain in private, for shutting her down, for humiliating her.
But instead, she ached for him.
She inhaled deeply, pushing down the doubt, and let out a shaky breath.
This was a tremendously bad idea. But she saw no other way to get through the night, especially when her anger and adrenaline to set her record straight was high.
* * *
Forty minutes later her hair was once again soaked. She closed up her hopeless umbrella against the strong wind and pushed her way through the revolving doors of Scott’s apartment building.
She smiled at Fredrick at the lobby desk who typically had the night shift. He greeted her and called for the penthouse elevator.
Elle cursed the determination that disappeared and was replaced with a hammering heartbeat. Deep breaths were proving to be pointless as she reached his floor.
She pounded at his door before changing her mind then wiped the raindrops on her forehead with the back of her hand as the door opened furiously.
Elle caught her breath. It was unfair how massively tense she was while he stood there, shirtless, staring at her without as much as a blink. His eyes washed over her but there was no warmth in them.
She opened her mouth and he pushed the door open, stepping aside.
Elle stepped in hesitantly, removing her raincoat while he disappeared through the corridor. He returned a moment later handing her a white towel and pulling a t-shirt over his head.
“Thank you,” she whispered and patted down her face. She tried at her first words again. She had them—accusing him of not affording her a real chance to explain, diminishing her existence. She reminded herself that she had nothing else to lose.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said.
Seriously? That’s what you start with?
“Guilty conscience?” his tone was flat.
“That’s not what I meant. I needed to talk to you, without…”
Scott rolled his eyes and went behind his kitchen counter.
She turned away taking a few more steps into the apartment, rubbing her forehead; willing herself to get it together. Feeling ready, she spun and found him standing before her, handing her a glass of red wine.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a glass of wine,” he nodded at the half-poured stem glass, “please, have some.”
She gritted her teeth and gave him a cold glare, but took the glass. She swallowed down more than half of it and handed it back. “You think you know me so well,” she muttered.
He twirled the glass and the corner of his mouth twitched, “Maybe a little.”
“I’m sorry it’s late.”
He shook his head slightly, setting the glass down. “The evening? The truth? Be more specific here.”
She sighed. “Both. Okay?”
He slipped his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and leaned against the wall. His glare came off as if he were giving her the chance to say more but not to expect anything of it.
“I’m sure it didn’t go unnoticed that I still owe you a reason. I want you to know that it wasn’t at all because I didn’t think you’d like me if I weren’t equal to your status.”
“First of all, only a handful of people in this city are. Second, I’m not an idiot, Elle. I’m aware of the amount of times you tried to get away from me when I was in full pursuit.” He pushed off the wall, irritated. “Maybe I should fix myself a drink since this is clearly going to take a while.”
Okay. He is getting impatient.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again. I had this outstanding reputation. If it got out that I’d often dress to fit in with the crowd to do damage control at my own events, I’d be the joke of the industry rather than a role model.”
“You’d make a terrible role model,” his voice wavered but Elle still nodded at his words.
She swallowed knowing it was time for the hard truth. “At first, I was afraid of what you, in your position, could do to someone like me in this city,” she shrugged. “If I didn’t have my career, I had nothing. I don’t know anything else.”
He frowned and his mouth opened slightly.
She continued, holding up a hand, “I have never been the type to put a relationship before my work. But when things became serious between us, I wanted nothing more than to drop the stupid charade. And even though I trusted you, I was still willing to risk it all for you.”
The creases on Scott’s forehead smoothed.
“Then Dean handed me the Ballard event, and that...complicated things.”
“How?”
She rubbed a hand over her face, almost ashamed to admit it. “The endless scenarios kept distracting me at work. Losing focus is unacceptable in my field as you well know now. So I put it off.” Elle raised her chin as if to show she had no regrets.
Scott looked down and nodded slowly. “Well, lying is unacceptable in mine, Isabel, so if you’ve said everything you needed to…” he implied but made no move toward escorting her out.
“That actually is my legal name.”
“Yes I know, I was making a point.”
“I will leave but not before I say one more thing,” she paused and softened her tone. “Please don’t blame Ron for my lie.”
Scott laughed. “Oh don’t worry—I’m saving all this blame for you, sweetheart,” he stalked forward. “But while we’re on the subject of my father, this actually made a lot of sense. Because you see, I swore I was losing my mind the day I introduced you.” He shook his head and paced around his living room. “Let me tell you something Elle, I am awfully good at reading people, and I could tell that something was up but I pushed it aside because I didn’t think it would be possible for both of you to be hiding something from me.”
She laughed bitterly. “Ron never questioned my tactics,” then her smile faded. “Perhaps he should have.”
Scott glanced away for a second. “Anything else?”
Her eyes watered, realizing she had yet to say the words. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I should have told you everything last night.”
He swallowed. “I bet seeing me with Claudia was really convenient for you; you could end it with a reason and feel no remorse.”
“Would you forge
t about Claudia? Okay, yes, seeing you with her was a big push in breaking up with you but it wasn’t jealousy or anger. It was because I’m not one of those women. The class, the social standing,” she paused remembering a quote in one of the articles she read. “I’m the person you don’t bother mentioning did all the work behind the scenes.”
“Those were not my words, Elle, you know that,” he barked.
She shrugged defensively. “What does it matter? It was probably paraphrased.” It was a low blow, but she was angry that he had little regard for her apology and after she’d poured out her excruciating six weeks, he’d simply asked her to leave.
He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I think I liked it better when you were nervous.”
She winced. “I think I liked it better when you were ignorant.” She strode past him and grabbed her coat.
She barely heard the footsteps behind her before he spun her in place and pushed her against the foyer wall. He gave her only a fraction of a second to push him away before he crushed her lips with his, kissing her furiously. There was no passion and it didn’t feel like he just wanted a last kiss. It was filled with anger and possibly a power play.
“What about this part?” he asked against her lips. His hands slipped under her shirt all too quickly. One wrapping around her back, the other cupping a breast. His erection grinding against her jeans. “Was this part real?”
Her eyes flew open and she pushed him back against the opposite wall, her face an inch from his as he stared at her. “Every. Single. Part of it was real. I am not a liar. I am not a fraud. I made the mistake of putting my career first,” she swallowed, “instead of trusting the man I’d fallen in love with.”
His expression softened but she had heard enough that night to know there was no hope for them, and continued. “I should have known better than to think I could make it all work out in the end,” she pushed off of him, fixing her top. “And I should have known better than to come here tonight.” She pulled the door open and waited for him to hand her coat back.
His eyes roamed over her but nothing about the way he watched her was readable.
Finally, he gently placed the coat over her shoulders. “For what it’s worth, I couldn’t sleep either,” he said in a husky voice before she strode away.
Chapter 37
Scott
Scott’s new office had been a revolving door since he’d moved in. The location was temporary; an entire floor at the Hayes Enterprises building. As much as he wanted to venture away from where he’d started, he still had quite a bit of accounts open with H.E. and knew Donovan would only want to hold meetings at his building.
He closed the binder prepared for his review by Dean’s assistant and handed it back to him. “Plans look great. Let’s just hope we didn’t miss anything. How’s New Year’s Eve looking?”
Dean pushed out of his chair, eagerly. “Our entire staff is booked for new years.”
“Excellent.” Scott noticed other new operations from his review that sounded strangely familiar. “I like the new time management system you’ve set up for each planner,” Scott noted.
Dean nodded. “Tracking project hours will help us improve efficiencies, and figure out where time is being wasted and unnecessary money being spent.” “It was something Elle started, and my office manager fine-tuned.”
Scott stood, irritably. “Have you spoken to her?” he asked in his most disinterested tone.
“She finally answered my call a few days ago,” Dean replied, and then chuckled. “She was very pleased to hear that our staff won’t be getting away with half the shit they used to.”
Scott’s lip curled as he walked to the window, fighting the urge to ask him how she sounded. It had been two weeks since Elle walked out of his apartment. A stupid thing he let happen.
For days he was convinced the woman had shown up that night simply to curse him. Because since then, at exactly that hour each night, he lay awake in bed picturing an entirely different outcome. He’d say all the right words and kiss her in all the right places and she would never leave.
Instead he belittled her after she poured her honest heart out and practically manhandled her into a kiss; a reality that haunted him mercilessly.
He cleared his throat, keeping his tone even. “Surely, she’ll be alright. She would still be getting a year-end bonus, correct?”
“No, she hadn’t worked for us long enough to be eligible,” Dean answered flatly. No doubt the man was trying to get a reaction out of him.
Scott’s jaw tightened. “Right.”
Dean’s walked to the door and shrugged. “But you know I did just get a new partner who I suppose could bend the rules.”
Scott shook his head and let out a short laugh. Soon, Scott was going to be his only partner. A week ago, Starr had proposed to sell her share of the company. Dean accepted and came up with a plan to buy her out.
The financial setback would only cost him a few more months of Scott’s involvement before Dean bought back his entire company.
“Let’s catch up next week, same time.”
* * *
On Christmas Eve, Scott met Ron at the hotel for a quick breakfast before rushing back to his office for so many follow ups.
Ron was late which was strange. The man was never late except when trying to be a father.
He finished off his first cup of coffee when the man finally showed up and dropped a heavy folder on the white tablecloth.
“What’s this?” Scott asked.
“Your Christmas present.” Ron nodded at the thick stack. “Sorry it’s not wrapped.”
Scott hesitated, then reached for the folder, scanning its contents and frowned. “Still not clear on what this is and why you’re giving it to me.”
“You’ve been asking me for my plans, policies, and everything that one might need to know about how Brightman Events operated; well, here it is. All of it.”
“Why now?”
“Because you’re going to need all the help you can get. It’s a tough business. Especially with Starr Howard leaving.”
“Not to a competitor,” Scott stated.
“But she had the business management knowledge and the experience,” he paused. “Unless of course you call someone else who would be twice the asset Starr was.”
Scott was already toying with an idea but no one but his lawyer would be privy to it. Especially considering since he still had his doubts.
“You could have told me about her,” Scott muttered.
Ron leaned back in his chair and rose a finger to call for service. He took a breath. “Elle had been loyal to me for eight years. I trusted her reasons…her timing could have been better.”
He scoffed. “Her timing was non-existent.”
“Or that,” Ron shrugged and reached for the menu. “Doesn’t matter anyway. You broke it off regardless, and can consider it a dodged bullet.”
Scott winced. “And it’s not because she’s not who I thought she was. It’s because she’s what I hoped she wasn’t.”
The other man sighed. “Then probably not worth bringing her up again. Did you order yet?”
Scott tapped his finger on the table. “Besides even if I did plan on reaching out, which I’m not, it would have to wait. I think she visits her parents for the holidays.”
Ron laughed. “Elle hasn’t seen her parents in years.”
Scott frowned. “Why?”
Ron watched him for a second, and finally shrugged. “Not your problem now is it?”
Scott leaned back in his chair. As usual, the conversation with Ron utterly exhausted him. He ran his fingers through his hair and blew out a heavy breath. “Do you know if she stays in the city?”
Chapter 38
Elle
The waiter approached, placing another cappuccino in front of her.
“Oh um... I didn’t realize I ordered another one.”
“You didn’t.” The waiter glanced at her and rushed away before she could thank him.
Elle blinked. It was, after all, Christmas morning in New York City. Who was she to question someone’s generosity? She turned her focus back to the skaters on the rink. Even watching them from the inside of the quaint little café in midtown somehow warmed her heart. A ritual that Char would tease her about since she started it four years ago. Each year her best friend would insist she spend the holidays with her and her family in California. But Elle preferred to spend it alone in the city. She refused to spend another painful holiday listening to her mother ridicule her life choices.
The snow started falling lightly over the glossy oval ice and its surrounding trees. This is what Christmas meant to her; snow, laughter, peace. She pushed her hair to the side, picking up the spoon to her fresh hot drink.
“I hear it’s much more fun on the ice.”
Elle spun in her chair and locked eyes with the last person she expected to see.
Scott stood merely a few short feet from her, wearing an open black wool coat, ivory sweater and blue jeans. Even in the most relaxed attire, the man captured her heart.
Elle turned back to the window. No one had ever disturbed her Christmas mornings at the rink. Only Char and one other person knew about her sad little ritual.
Ron.
She sat there, facing away from him as if he’d go away, her heart beating heavily. Even if she could get rid of the lump in her throat; there was nothing left to say.
His voice drew closer. “Mind if I join you?”
She pushed the filled dish aside carefully. “I was just leaving.”
“But you have a fresh new cappuccino. One sugar. Easy on the foam.” He took a seat beside her at the small round table. “What I have to say won’t take longer than the time it will take you,” he pushed the round mug back in front of her, “to finish this.”
Elle carefully wrapped her hands around the piping hot mug. She felt trapped. What else could the man possibly want from her? A better apology?
She refused to look at him, but something told her he was waiting until she would.
Glancing up for a second, she found his beautiful green eyes gazing softly at her. She nearly winced at the sight. A painful reminder of what she’d lost.
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