Blake swallowed, the lump in his throat the size of a grapefruit. He’d never thought of it that way before.
“How do you always know exactly what to say to me?” he asked, putting his hand on top of hers.
“Because… because I know you,” she said. “I see you. I hear you.”
She leant in and kissed him on the lips, lingering for a moment before pulling away.
“I love you.”
“It’s impossible,” he said, meeting her eyes, losing himself in them. “But I think I love you too.”
She kissed him again, more passionately this time. Then she wrapped him in a hug and they held each other. It felt like a lifetime later that they parted, and the world seemed brighter, fresher, more vivid than it ever had before. He held onto her hands, unable to find a single word inside the whirlwind of emotion inside his head.
“Anyone for flapjacks?” came Isla’s voice from the kitchen, and Ellie burst out laughing.
“Yeah, sure mom,” she called back. She fanned her blazing cheeks as she walked back around the table.
“Anything fun?” Blake asked, nodding at the laptop. The real world felt strangely weird after the intensity of the last few minutes, and he took a sip of coffee to calm himself.
“Kind of,” Ellie said, frowning. “Come and look.”
He did as she asked, pulling up a chair next to her and sitting so close that their elbows touched. On the laptop screen was a page of code and he scanned through it, whistling.
“That’s impressive,” he said. “Tell me you didn’t write all that in one morning.”
“No way,” Ellie said, laughing. “Just half of it. It’s something I’ve been working on for a while now, a thing I want to try with LifeWrite. You inspired me to get back to it.”
Blake sighed.
“You know how much I love your idea,” he said. “It’s so original. I really want it to work, but I’m not going to be in any kind of place to help you.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “You’re here with me now, and that’s what matters. Tell me what you think.”
She stretched out her hand and he took it, holding it tight. She used her other hand to scroll down the code.
“So, the whole thing about LifeWrite is that I want it to be a positive experience. I want it to make people feel good about themselves and about the world.”
He nodded. He’d wanted exactly the same thing for Heartbook, it just hadn’t quite worked out that way. When the company had gone public, and Michelle and Mike had come on board, the emphasis went from social good to making money, and the network just hadn’t been the same since.
“And I want it to help people,” she said. “Heal people. You know, if you’re down, or sad, or depressed, or angry. This piece of code is designed to study your facial expression and work out how you’re feeling.”
“That’s amazing,” said Blake.
“It’s a little rusty, but try it,” she said. “Hang on.”
She opened the LifeWrite interface on the laptop, accessing the camera, and Blake saw them both there on the screen. She was heartbreakingly beautiful, and he couldn’t help but think what an amazing couple they made. She tilted the laptop so that he was the only one in the picture, then she tapped the button and the laptop started to record.
“Okay, it’s capturing footage, so don’t say anything you might regret,” she said.
The old computer clunked and whirred, struggling with the complexity of the code. On screen he saw a series of whorls and lines appear on his face, then the computer beeped. A crudely animated cartoon avatar appeared, and Ellie’s voice drifted from the speakers.
“Good evening,” it said.
“Urgh, I’ve got to work on the time stamps,” she said. “Pretend it said morning.”
“You look… flustered,” said the avatar, and a laugh escaped Blake’s lips. He probably did look flustered, but only because his cheeks were so flushed from sitting next to Ellie. “Please relax, take a deep breath, and listen to this poem.”
On the computer, Ellie’s voice began to narrate a calm and soothing poem.
“Wordsworth,” he said, recognizing it. “That’s nice.”
“You really do know your books,” she replied. “So yeah, the idea is that there is a response for every mood, and a huge database of writing to choose from. Eventually, when the network is up and running, LifeWrite will analyse your mood and do other things too, like connect you to family members, or just find someone for you to talk to.”
“United by stories,” he said. “It’s brilliant.”
Ellie looked bashful.
“I don’t know about that,” she said.
“It’s brilliant,” he said again. “I mean it. Look, I know I can’t offer you much, but let me at least be your cheerleader. LifeWrite has to exist, I think it can really help the world. I’ll help where I can, where you want me to. If you want me to.”
“I want you to,” Ellie said. She patted the laptop. “And there’s no backing out now, I’ve got it all on film.”
Blake looked at his face on the screen and laughed.
“I hereby declare that my only purpose in life from now on will be to help and support Ellie Mae Woodward, because she is the most wonderful, intelligent, beautiful person I know.”
Ellie gently slapped his arm, but she was laughing. Blake turned to her, ready to declare his love once again, but at that moment Isla came crashing through the farmhouse’s front door, a look of alarm on her face.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you,” she said, breathless. “But you must come quickly. It’s an emergency.”
26
“An emergency?” Ellie said, standing up so fast her chair almost toppled over behind her. “What happened?”
Mom stood red-faced and panting in the doorway, like she’d just run a marathon. She waved them over.
“Hurry,” she said, running out the door again. Ellie started after her, Blake at her side. They ran down the porch steps, following her mom across the large, neatly kept yard toward the small barn where the animals lived. Blake charged ahead, his strides long and powerful despite his bare feet. Mom had stopped by the open barn door, her hands on her knees as she fought for breath.
“What is it?” Ellie said when she reached her. She breathed in the smell of livestock, the smell reminding her of childhood. “What’s going on?”
From the way her mom was acting there had to be a fire somewhere, or maybe even a murder. But she just pointed through the door.
“The goats,” she said. “They’ve escaped.”
“What?” said Ellie. “Come on, mom, that’s hardly an emergency.”
“Something spooked them,” she said. “They’re in the vegetables, if I don’t get them back in the barn then everything will be gone.”
Ellie shared a look with Blake.
“The goats have escaped,” she said.
“Well we’d better go get them,” he replied. “Where are they?”
“Through here,” said her mom, leading them into the barn and out of a door on the other side. The ranch’s impressive vegetable beds lay ahead, bigger than Ellie remembered because her mom had dug up another couple of potato patches since last time she’d been home. It was an ocean of leafy greens, sweet peas and potatoes, cabbages and lettuces, courgettes and pumpkins, strawberries and gooseberries, and just about everything else you could imagine. Currently five goats were tearing their way through the garden like kids in a candy shop, bleating with delight.
“Hurry!” cried her mom.
“I’m going!” she said, running through the gate. Blake was right next to her, slipping in the freshly watered earth.
“Is there a trick to this?” he asked.
“Just grab them by the horns,” she replied. “And try not to get butted. They are stronger than they look.”
He nodded.
“I’ll go for the white one over there,” he said.
“Bob,” she replied.
“Bob?”
“He reminded mom of her uncle,” she said. “He’s pretty angry. You sure you want Bob?”
Blake looked at the goat, one eyebrow raised in surprise, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.
“How bad can he be?” he asked. Ellie couldn’t help but giggle.
“Bad,” she said.
Blake set off, careful not to step on any of the plants. Ellie ran the other way, clucking gently as she approached the little grey goat known as Dolly. She was fairly docile, and let Ellie steer her away, happily chewing on some rhubarb stalks. Ellie led her into the barn where mom was waiting, and together they wrangled the goat into her stall. She bleated mournfully and Ellie laughed.
“Sorry, Dolly,” she said.
She ran back outside. Blake looked almost like he was wrestling with Bob, one hand on one of the goat’s horns, the other on his neck. Bob wasn’t having any of it, and with a sudden lurch he broke free. Blake yelped, slipping in the dirt and falling onto his face. Ellie couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing, and when Blake stood up with mud smeared over his T-shirt and face, she laughed twice as hard. She had to slap her hands to her knees to stop herself falling over too.
“I told you he was angry,” she called to him when she could speak again.
“I didn’t even know goats got angry,” he replied. He rubbed his hands down his T-shirt, making it even more filthy, then he set off again, his arms outstretched as he chased down the goat. Ellie left him to it, her sides aching. Betty was just up ahead and she led her back into the barn. Petunia was just as easy, and even Sir Ronald didn’t put up too much of a fight.
By the time she was walking out of the barn again, Blake was struggling down the path between the beetroot plants, Bob’s horns grasped firmly in his hands. The goat was resisting, and Blake’s arms bulged impressively as he fought to keep control. He was covered in mud, his hair rucked up, his skin slick with sweat. But he was grinning like an idiot, and when he saw her looking at him he laughed.
“Why didn’t you tell me this would be so hard?” he said.
“And spoil the surprise?” she said. She took one horn from him, both of them gently coaxing the old goat through the door and back into the stall. Her mom closed the gate and locked it, slapping her hands together.
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you both so much. They would have torn through my crops in a heartbeat.”
She looked Blake up and down, then winked at Ellie.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d have said he enjoyed it,” she said. “You’re suited to this life, Blake.”
“I don’t know about that,” he replied, looking at his clothes.
But he was suited to it, Ellie could tell by the way his cheeks glowed, by the way his eyes seemed brighter. She waited until her mom had left the barn, then she took his hand.
“Sorry about your clothes,” she said. “I’ll wash them.”
“It’s nothing,” he replied. “It’s a good look. I always hated the formal wear.”
“Mom was right, you do look like you’re suited to this,” she said.
“The farm?” he nodded, still smiling. “I never would have thought it, but she’s right. The air, the freedom. I could get used to this.”
“Me too,” she said.
“I could afford a nice place, maybe something nearby,” he went on, taking her other hand and leaning in. “Even after they strip my assets. A few acres, some animals. There’s just one condition.”
“What?” she asked.
“No goats.”
They laughed together, and Ellie leaned up and kissed him.
“No goats,” she said.
“And one more thing,” he went on.
“Anything,” she breathed.
“I want to be there with you.”
She kissed him again, longer and deeper than before.
“That’s a deal,” she said. “We could leave the city, leave the smoke and the noise.”
It sounded like the best idea in the world, and she couldn’t believe it when he nodded.
“We could live out here,” he said quietly. “Not just live, but live.”
She held him close, her head on his chest. His heart pounded, and she knew it was only partly to do with the fact he’d just wrestled a goat. That was the drum beat of somebody who genuinely felt excited, who genuinely felt like they were in love. She could have listened to it all day.
Except there was something else on the edge of her hearing, a strange thumping noise coming from outside the barn. She pulled away, cocking her head to hear it better.
“It’s back,” said her mom, storming into the barn. “That pesky thing is what spooked the goats.”
“What is it?” Ellie asked. Blake pulled away, his expression dark.
“It’s a helicopter,” he said.
“It flew past a while ago,” said her mom. “It’s obviously looking for something.”
“Yeah,” said Blake. Ellie reached for his hand but he pulled it away. “It’s looking for me.”
27
By the time Blake had walked out of the barn, the helicopter was closing in. It was a powerful, black Europcopter, and even before he saw the Heartbook logo plastered on the door he knew who it belonged to. He had ridden in that very same helicopter countless times, and even though he hadn’t always liked flying he’d always loved the feeling of being airborne, of soaring over the streets and buildings below. Whenever he’d taken the chopper, he’d felt free.
Now, though, the sight of it made his heart tumble into his stomach. It made him feel like a prisoner on the run, finally cornered by the cops. The helicopter spun lazily above the large yard, kicking up a storm of dirt. Through the window he could see David in sunglasses and headphones making the signal to land, and sure enough the chopper slowly descended, bumping gracefully onto the grass. The noise of it thumped through him, the wind buffeting his clothes and ruffling his hair, but he stood tall. He may have lost his crown, but he would not bow to the monsters inside the helicopter.
A hand found its way into his and he looked to see Ellie there. Her hair streamed behind her, but her expression was defiant and brave, her eyes fierce. Even dressed in her pink pajamas she looked like royalty. She met Blake’s eyes and nodded, and he nodded back. Even though they didn’t speak, the message was clear: whatever happened next, they would do this together.
The thrum of the helicopter grew quieter as the throttle eased off. The doors opened and David hopped out, tossing his headphones onto the seat. He waited by the door, offering his hand to Michelle as she appeared behind him. She was wearing a $5,000 pair of Manolo Blahniks, and her nose wrinkled with disgust as she dropped gracefully onto the dirt. When she looked at Blake, though, her expression turned into one of delight. She threaded her arm through David’s and they ducked under the spinning rotors, walking briskly across the yard.
Somebody else was climbing out of the chopper, seemingly forgotten by the other two. He was a short, plump, blading guy in slacks and a baggy, lime-green T-shirt, a cheap all-weather jacket thrown on top. Blake frowned. He wasn’t anyone he recognized from the company, and he certainly wasn’t a lawyer. The mystery deepened when Ellie squeezed his hand, hard enough to hurt. He winced, looking down to see that the color had drained from her face.
“What is it?” he asked, and she glanced up at him fearfully.
“Josh,” she said. “That’s my ex.”
There was no time to ask her what might be going on, as David and Michelle walked into earshot. Blake straightened his back, trying to make himself look as imposing as he could. Without thinking, he took a step forward so that he was standing defensively in front of Ellie. She gripped his hand even harder, giving him strength.
“Well well well,” said David, his voice barely carrying above the thrum of the rotors. “Blake Fielding, as I live and breathe.”
“I told you we’d find him,” said Michelle, her face creasing again as she looked him up and dow
n. “We didn’t need Josh after all. We could have just sniffed him out.”
“Yeah, it’s sad,” said David. “How the mighty have fallen. One minute you’re one of the richest men on the planet, the next you’re rolling around with the pigs.”
They both laughed, and Blake’s blood seemed to boil in his veins. He felt Ellie squeeze his hand again, not in panic but to reassure him. Josh was cowering beneath the chopper blades as he made his way across the yard. He stopped behind the others, peeking past David’s shoulder as if he was worried somebody might take a shot at him. Blake had no idea why Ellie had been dating him. She’d been batting way below her league.
“What are you doing here?” Ellie asked.
“Claiming what’s mine,” the man replied, giving her such a smug grin that Blake felt like he actually was about to take a shot at him. He breathed slowly and deeply, keeping his cool. He was in enough trouble already, he didn’t need an assault charge on top of everything else.
“Josh came to us with an offer,” said David, raising his hand. He was holding a manila envelope and Blake knew what was inside it—the papers that would strip him of everything he had spent his life building. “I call that perfect timing. Shall we? A couple of signatures and it’s done. You can’t run anymore.”
“Who said I was running?” said Blake, eyeballing David until the other man looked away.
“Where do you want to do this?” Michelle asked.
“Right here,” said Blake, holding out his free hand. He was furious, yes. But something had taken the edge off his rage. His head was full of dreams of him and Ellie waking up together in their farmhouse, of drinking coffee and eating freshly laid eggs together on the porch, of planting crops and raising livestock, and even wrangling goats in the mud. Nothing else seemed to matter anymore, and the thought of returning to the boardroom and poring over thousands of lines of code seemed like the least appealing thing imaginable. He smiled at David, and it caught the other man by surprise.
My Antisocial Billionaire: A Clean Billionaire Romance (My Billionaire A-Z Book 1) Page 15