Hot Mess

by Emma Hart

  “Another month? On top of this week?”

  “Sure. Why not? There are worse places I could hide.” I stepped on the bottom step of the deck and looked over at the beautiful beach with its golden sand and turquoise waters. “Worse places. Worse people.”

  Theo stepped right up to me but stayed on the sand. Here, I was almost as tall as he was, and we were so close that our lips almost touched.

  I breathed in sharply. Sure, we’d kissed before, but we’d been drunk. We were stone cold sober now, and he’d just admitted that he was attracted to me.

  Would kissing him be the worst thing in the world?

  I waited.

  He didn’t make the move, just like last time. He just stared at me until he slowly reached up and trailed his fingers across my cheek, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

  Still no kiss.

  So I did it for him.

  I braced my hands on his shoulders and pressed my lips against his. For someone who hadn’t kissed me, he responded enthusiastically. His arms wound around my waist and held me firmly against him, and I slipped mine over his shoulders and deepened the kiss.

  It warmed my entire body, and even though this one didn’t last as long as the previous one, the ghost of it lingered on my lips for so much longer.

  “Do you usually make the first move?” he teased.

  I extracted myself from his grip and said, “Only when the guy has already told me he’s attracted to me and has asked for my number… then doesn’t.”

  “Touché.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now let’s make you a video.”

  I turned around and looked at him, lips parted. “You’re going to help me?”

  Theo held out his hands. “What am I gonna do? Kiss and run?”

  “You did a few days ago.”

  “Ah, whatever. I needed to pee.”

  I rolled my eyes as I unlocked the door. “And they said romance is dead.”

  ***

  It didn’t matter how many times I saw it, it was always weird to see myself on the laptop screen talking at, well, myself.

  Aside from cleaning up a few timing issues and removing some duplicate sentences, this video was completely unedited, and had been approved by both my agent and my publicist.

  After our walk, I’d explained to Theo what Noelle had said to me on the phone—that I could use my platform for good in this situation. My team agreed it was the best option, and once the decision to not hide anything was made, the words had come pouring out of me.

  Unscripted.

  Now, it was uploading to YouTube, and my three-minute-long statement was about to go out into the world.

  Where I knew my life really was about to blow up.

  “I should watch it one more time,” I said, leaning forward and minimizing the window. “Make sure it’s right.”

  “Elle, it’s fine,” Theo reassured me, putting a glass of wine on the coffee table. “We’ve watched it ten times. Your publicist has approved the same video three times. It’s perfect.”

  “Just one more time.” I double-clicked the file and the video player loaded, filling the screen with my big face. A couple of seconds passed before screen-me started talking at us.

  “Hey there, everyone,” Screen Elle said with a lame little wave. “I’m sure by now many of you are aware of why it’s been two weeks since I last uploaded a video. For those of you who aren’t, here’s why: a private tape of me was sold and made public without my knowledge or my consent. Until that moment, I had no idea of the tape’s existence. I was just as shocked as the rest of you.

  “The moment I found out, I made the choice to leave my apartment in New York and go somewhere else. Because of that, I’ve been able to handle the situation privately, and I have now taken legal action.

  “If there are any media outlets watching this, please consider this to be my formal statement on the matter, and you will find it in text form on my website, www dot life of Elle Evans dot com, and in a press release to those who have contacted my publicist.

  “The tape was released without my knowledge or consent. I was not aware it existed, so not only was it released without my consent, it was also filmed without my consent. Neither I nor my team will be responding to any further requests for comments while legal action against necessary parties is in process. Thank you.

  “For everyone else, I will be releasing new content this week. A new friend of mind said something that stuck with me, so I will be releasing videos discussing safety, online and otherwise. There are many dangers out there, especially on the internet, and you need to be aware of how quickly one moment can change your life.

  “Until then, I hope you’re all safe and well. We will be disabling comments on my videos for a short time, and a small team will be monitoring my social media accounts while I continue to come to terms with this unexpected situation.

  “Thank you to everyone who has sent love and support so far. I appreciate it more than you know, and hopefully we’ll be able to return to normal soon.”

  Screen Elle blew a kiss at us and the video cut out.

  “Do you think it’s too much? Too formal? Too…”

  Theo leaned forward, shut down the video screen, and looked at the upload page.

  Then he hit the button.

  I gasped, covering my mouth with my hands. “Why did you do that?”

  “Because you’re gonna sit here for three hours umming and ahhing over it if I didn’t!” He shut the laptop down and sat back on the sofa, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “Problem solved.”

  I sagged back, staring at the closed laptop. “Shit.”

  “Hey. It’s done. You had to do it, Elle. You had to have your say, and now it’s done. Now, you can move forward.”

  He was right in a way. I could move forward. There wasn’t much I could do until the police found Mitch, so now I could relax and breathe a little.

  And continue my straight avoidance of social media, because it was rough out there. There was going to be a whole bunch of people who didn’t believe me, and that was fine. That would probably be my knee-jerk reaction if I was honest. Denial is always easier than responsibility if you’ve messed up, but I hadn’t.

  I still didn’t want to hear it.

  I texted my agent and publicist to let them know the video was live, plus Emily, then put down my phone.

  Ever since I’d arrived here, my life had been consumed with the tape and finding our what happened. Now that I knew, I didn’t know what to do.

  “What’s wrong?’ Theo asked. “You look lost.”

  I turned to face him and met his eyes. “I don’t really know what to do now that I have nothing to do.”

  His lips curved to one side. “Oh, no. You’re one of those people who always needs something to do, aren’t you?”

  “I just don’t understand people who can live their lives without structure.”

  He tapped his finger against his lips. “There’s still three hours until Blaire brings Ari home. Reckon we can paint the bathroom in that time?”

  I thought about it. “We can try.”

  ***

  “I just don’t know how you’ve managed to get paint everywhere.” Theo scrubbed at his face. “It’s been an hour and we’re both covered in it. How?”

  In his defense, it was an excellent question. He really shouldn’t have been surprised, though, given the mess I’d made in the utility room. I was bound to get the ice blue paint absolutely everywhere.

  At least we'd put dust sheets down. Right?

  Not that it had stopped me getting it all over us.

  I rubbed a wet corner of my towel in my cleavage. How had it gotten between my boobs?

  That was one of life’s great mysteries, I supposed.

  “Paint is messy,” I replied. “Especially when you use a roller. It goes everywhere.”

  “Everywhere on you.” He looked at me up and down. “I don’t know how you do
it.”

  “Neither do I.” I shrugged and finally gave up with the towel. Honestly, judging by that look, my only option now was to take a shower and scrub the entire top layer of my skin off. “But hey, the bathroom looks good!”

  Theo looked around the ice blue and white bathroom. “You think so?”

  “I think it would have been better pink, but that’s not my choice.”

  He slid me a look with a wry smile. “No wonder you and Ari get along. She’s been trying to convince me to repaint ours pink for the last three months.”

  “I don’t know. It seems like a reasonable request.” I tossed the towel into the dust sheet covered bath and slipped past him out of the room. “It’s not that crazy.”

  “I’m not having a pink bathroom in my house.”

  “Why not? It’s just a color.”

  “Because I only repainted it six months ago!”

  Oh. “Want me to paint it for you?”

  “And get my entire house painted? I think I’ll pass, thank you.”

  I grinned, taking two bottles of water from the fridge. “Oh, come on. It’s artistic flair.”

  “Getting matte wall paint everywhere is artistic flair?”

  “Oh, sure. Banksy can graffiti on walls and it sells for millions, but I do it and I’m not an artist.”

  Theo fought a smile. He lost. “Banksy’s art is intentional.”

  “Graffiti.”

  “What?”

  “It’s graffiti.”

  “Graffiti is still art.”

  “I know but call a spade a spade. If I spray painted a penis on the side of a wall, I’d get arrested.”

  “Probably more for the penis than the fact you graffitied it.” He took the water bottle from me. “My point is that Banksy plans his graffiti. You just go on a tear with a roller on a wall and spray the entire room with random sized dots that have no rhyme or rhythm.”

  “Well, maybe I like my home décor with no rhyme or rhythm.”

  “Do you?”

  “No, but you didn’t know that.”

  He grinned. “I do now.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you have a child to retrieve?”

  He checked his watch. “Not for another hour and a half. Besides, Blaire is dropping her back. She’ll probably come back with pink hair or something.”

  “Ooh, I should get some pink in my hair,” I mused.

  Theo’s eyebrows shot up. “What is happening? Are you having a mid-twenties crisis?”

  “Quite possibly, but dying my hair is a better option than drugs.”

  “You have interesting logic.”

  “Am I wrong?”

  “You are not wrong.”

  “Then my logic, as interesting as it might be, is solid.” I grinned and leaned over the island. “Come on. You can’t argue with that.”

  “Apparently, I can’t argue with you at all.”

  “Ah, finally a man who realizes the futility of arguing with a woman. You’re a real catch, Theodore.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you bloody start as well.”

  I laughed, twisting the bottle between my hands. “What’s wrong with Theodore? I like it. It suits you.”

  “It’s pompous.”

  “Well, you are British.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN – ELLE

  “I’m not pompous. Most British people don’t speak like the Queen, you know.”

  I frowned. “That’s slightly disappointing. You sound a bit like her.”

  “I would imagine I do to a degree. I grew up in Chelsea, which is one of the more affluent areas. Although I don’t sound as British as I used to.”

  “Really? Did you used to sound like the Queen?”

  “What is your obsession with people sounding like her?”

  “Prince William’s accent is hot,” I replied. “That’s the kind of accent I want to listen to. Not… Ricky Gervais or whatever his name is.”

  “I’m impressed you know his name.”

  “Of course I know his name. He makes wildly inappropriate jokes. I like that in a person.”

  “Miss Good And Wholesome on her video channel likes wildly inappropriate jokes?”

  “Sure. I’m hanging out with you, aren’t I?”

  His tongue flicked out and wet his lips, and he rolled his lower lip between his teeth, staring at me.

  “If you’re trying to look unamused, you should tell your eyes. You have a dreadful poker face,” I told him, standing up straight. “Remind me to play you sometime.”

  He dropped his chin to his chest, and his shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Dear God, what am I doing here?”

  “Ah, you found God. You’ll need him for those teenage years.” I grinned again. “I’m hungry.”

  “Whiplash,” he muttered. “Same. Do you want to order something?”

  “Ooh, dinner three times in a week.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “For someone who doesn’t date, that’s a lot of dinners.”

  “Are we dating? I don’t believe it was discussed.”

  “We are not, I was just making an observation. Also, I was going to cook. How do you feel about chicken?”

  Theo slid onto one of the stools and pulled off his shirt. “Your observation would be correct. But the fact we’ve kissed twice puts us into murky water, don’t you think? As for the chicken, perfectly fine dead, but not a massive fan of them alive.”

  I pulled chicken out of the fridge. “It certainly clouds it, but I don’t know that either of us one: know each other well enough to say we’re dating or two: are ready to do such a thing right now. Good to know on the chicken, but why don’t you like them alive? They’re cute. In a weird way.”

  This two-part conversation was oddly amusing. And the whole dating thing? Totally less awkward when you were also discussing live chickens.

  One day, when I wrote my autobiography, this would be the conversation I’d write where I would note that this was the moment I realized that Theodore Dalton was under my skin, and quite possibly fast-tracking his way into my heart.

  “I think post your points are valid concerning dating. I think we know enough to discuss whether we would like to quietly pursue something without the knowledge of Ari, and by pursue, I mean see what happens naturally.” He flipped the cap from his water bottle. “I got chased by a chicken when I was on a school trip when I was seven. Thing chased me for five minutes before the farmer stopped it, and ever since then, I haven’t really cared for them.”

  I sliced open the chicken breasts and threw them into a bowl to season with salt, pepper, and garlic. “Naturally is certainly something I would be open to discussing,” I said, like I was discussing a change in my hair color or something. I almost giggled at the formality of the conversation, but I was having too much fun. “How realistic do you think it is to keep it from your daughter? And with the knowledge that I might yet go back to New York? And I completely understand your trepidation regarding the chickens. They can be scary little fuckers.”

  “Well, as of this moment, you’ve admitted that your plans to return home are up in the air right now. You’re here for another month, right?”

  Okay, we’d dropped the chickens.

  I washed my hands in the sink and nodded, looking over my shoulder. “It’s kind of like a vacation, and I haven’t had one of those in two years. Besides, if I’m going to create some new content, it’s not like I have to be in New York to do that.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on.”

  “What is?”

  “The fact that you don’t have to be in New York.” He met my eyes as I dried my hands with a towel. “Maybe, in the next month, you might find more than one reason not to go back.”

  I paused, hands wrapped in the towel, and smiled ever so slightly, almost shyly.

  He had no idea how right he was. Every day, I found another reason to stay.

  I’d been here ten days.

  It was terrifying to connect with a place and the people who lived there so q
uickly.

  “How do you feel about zucchini?” I pulled out one out of the fridge and held it up.

  He raised an eyebrow. “That’s a courgette.”

  “No, it’s a zucchini.”

  “I call it a courgette.”

  “Poor zucchini. What did it ever do to you, Theodore?”

  He sighed. “In the UK, that’s a courgette.”

  I looked at the zucchini. “Why don’t you call it a zucchini?”

  “Because it’s a courgette.”

  I opened my mouth to respond to that, but I had nothing. “Well, do you like it? Whatever it’s called?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” I put it back in the fridge. “Do you like cheese?”

  “What kind of bloody question is that?”

  “Some people don’t like cheese. Maybe you don’t eat it. Vegans don’t.”

  “Elle, if I’m eating chicken, I’m not a vegan.”

  Excellent point.

  “Oh, whatever. Shut up.”

  He grinned, and my stomach fluttered like a hoard of butterflies had just been released into it.

  Damn it.

  ***

  “The box will be with you tomorrow. I put it on two-day shipping.”

  “Thanks, Em,” I said, putting the phone on the counter for a moment while I opened the fridge. “Send me the invoice, okay?”

  “No,” she replied, the line crackling with her laughter. “Are you really staying there a month?”

  “Yep.” I pulled water from the fridge and picked it up again as I headed for the back deck. “It’s nice here. It’s quiet. It’s private. The people are great. I think it’ll do me some good to have some time away from everything.”

  “What about your apartment?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m already paid for the next month, so I think I’ll make a decision about what to do then. I might feel differently then.”

  “Okay. You don’t have to come back for us, you know that, right? Besides, I’ll take an excuse to visit the Florida Keys. Ben can’t say no, then.”

  I smiled, sitting cross-legged on the sofa. “Ah, I see. You’re using me.”