by J.M. Cagle
Chapter Five:
As soon as the doors opened, Claire and Elle were out, a rush of satin and curls. They hurried to where they had stashed their scrubs and shimmied out of their dresses as quickly as they could. Shoving their dresses and shoes in the garment bags, Elle quickly realized she had left her purse back upstairs. They were going to have to forget about it for now, and hope no one connected the ID inside of it with the Elle Cinder who worked as a cleaning lady on the 12th floor. But that was something she would have to worry and stress about later. Right now, her main concern was getting away before Luke discovered her.
At the thought of him, an ache of longing filled her heart and a sad smile graced her face. It had been truly a magical night. She had not felt so free and wonderful in such a long time. After she had gotten over her initial fear, she’d found herself discussing and arguing literary merits with like-minded fellows. It was wonderful to feel a part of the academic circuit once again, and when the handsome Luke Charmant had stumbled in front of her, bumbling and stumbling and looking both dashing and sweet, she’d allowed herself to be swept away by the fair-haired gentlemen. His hazel eyes, a wonderful swirl of brown and green with flecks of iridescent gold, had held her attention, especially when he began having deep discussions about literary masters she so enjoyed. He was a delightful combination of boyish charm and rugged intellectual.
Plus, Elle was not unaware of the warmth that spread throughout her body upon the mere grazing of his hand, or how her senses were heightened by the closeness of his body. When their eyes had first connected, it was as if time stood still, and for the whole evening it had felt that way. Which was why she was so late meeting up with Claire. They should have been out of the party by 11:30 at the latest, but she was too busy bearing her soul and being kissed senseless to take notice. Elle didn’t know where her head or her heart had been this evening. But she knew she could ill-afford to lose both again.
Finally, Claire and Elle were ready to leave. Dressed again in their working clothes, they moved quickly to the elevators, hoping for an empty one that would keep them from being possibly ousted as the girls who had been upstairs at the party. As they waited for the elevator to arrive, Elle was sad that the night had ended the way it had with Luke. She wished she could explain better why she was so cautious to love, especially after the one man who she’d loved deeply had wounded her by not even caring enough to provide for her in his will.
She felt guilty at the anger she felt towards her papa for it, but she could still not justify his lack of care in writing an updated will to include her. Though her heart told her differently, her mind told her logically, that maybe her half-siblings were right, that her father did not love her as much as she thought, and it was that which shattered any notions she had of love. It was better to protect your heart than to get it ripped out by those closest to you.
But Elle could not get the image of Luke’s confused and saddened face out of her mind, and it broke what little heart she had left to leave him like that. If she was capable of love, she would have believed that, even though they’d only known each other for a little while, it was fated that they meet, and that it was love at first sight. But that idea belonged in the past and at the end of fairy tales.
Once out of the elevator, the girls hastily rushed to The Pumpkin, and as they peeled out of the garage, Elle chanced a glance at the elevator doors and made eye contact with Luke, and instantly regretted not being able to turn the car around and run into his arms. But she could not, she would not, so she continued driving, his lone figure growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Was the tentative question from the passenger seat.
“No, no I don’t.” And the rest of the ride home was spent in reflective silence.