Because You're Mine (The Gallaghers)

by Layla Hagen

  “Or we could do none of the above,” I said.

  Ryker opened his mouth, but I shook my head. “Drop it, seriously.”

  Shaking his head, he grinned at me. “This one’s a bit pigheaded.”

  “Nah, he’ll just call Isabelle when push comes to shove,” Dylan said. He was right, as usual.

  I knew Henry could give me more insights, but we still weren't on the best of terms after his visit to New York. He didn't seem mad exactly, just waiting for the other shoe to drop, and that pissed me off. I wanted to be part of Ellie's future. I wasn't sure what I'd do if she didn't want the same.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ellie

  Three days later, I was a bit overwhelmed by my pro and con lists. I only had time to think about it in the morning. After my shift, I was too tired for any decision-making. I was sitting at the top of my bed with my hair piled up in a bun, door wide open. Harper had already left.

  I couldn’t believe that my list just kept getting longer on both sides. I was startled when my phone rang. Usually, no one called me this early. To my surprise, it was Isabelle. I answered right away.

  “Morning. I hope it’s not too early. Ian said you’re always up by seven.”

  “I’m good. Already had a coffee too.”

  “Ian told me you were offered a job here.”

  My face exploded in a smile just like that. “Yes, I was. I’m making pro and con lists to decide if I should take it or move forward with my original plan.”

  “You’re making lists?” she sounded incredulous.

  “Yes.” I went a bit in defensive mode. “Doesn’t everyone do that?”

  “I guess, but I thought the whole point of the rotation was to get a permanent position.”

  “Not exactly. It’s also about gaining the most experience I can.”

  Isabelle cleared her throat. “Okay. What does Ian say about it?”

  “That I should decide based on what’s best for me.” Jumping down from the bed, I walked to the living room and sat on the couch. I waited for Isabelle’s reply, but when she didn’t say anything, I prompted, “Was this why you called me?”

  “Not just this. I’m going back and forth with my party planner about the menu. Remember I told you the cook is having trouble with the vegan and gluten-free dessert?”

  “Yes.” She’d never brought it up again after mentioning it at first. “My offer to help still stands.”

  “Are you sure? I know you’re still doing two jobs, basically.”

  “One and a half. But I can do it. Tell her to give me a call. Or better yet, just text me the planner’s number, and I’ll get in contact.”

  “I’ll send it right away. And I just messaged her to let her know you’ll call. Thanks!”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She texted me the number right after hanging up. I was going to call on my way to work. I’d spent too much time on the list and had to hurry to make it to work on time.

  I quickly dressed and headed out of the apartment fifteen minutes later. I still had time to get to the restaurant on foot. I just had to hurry.

  It was a cold morning, so I zipped up my jacket, snapping a selfie and sending it to Mom.

  Ellie: Thanks for the jacket. It’s saving my ass.

  After that, I called the event planner. She answered right away.

  "Hey, this is Ellie Cavanaugh. I just received a call from Isabelle Gallagher regarding her party."

  "Hi, Ellie. Isabelle told me you’re calling. Is this about the dessert?”

  "Yes. I’m a chef, and I’ve worked at the pastry station for a while. Now I’m at On Point.”

  “Wow, I know it. Good for you.”

  “Thanks. Anyway, Isabelle said the chef at the location has some trouble with the vegan menu. That there are also gluten intolerant guests, and I can help. I just need the number of the chef."

  "Oh, sure. Okay. I'll text it to you. Should I send it to this number? Let me write it down, because I’ll be texting you from another phone. Or I probably have it on the guest list anyway. What's your full name again?"

  "Ellie Cavanaugh."

  "Okay. I don’t see you on the list. Do you know which table you’ll be at?"

  "I'm not sure, maybe somewhere with the siblings. With Ian, Dylan, and Josie."

  “No, that can’t be the one,” she murmured. “It’s full. Isabelle and Brayden, Josie and Hunter, Mel with Dylan. Ian doesn’t have a plus one.”

  “Oh?”

  She laughed. “Yes. When I made the arrangements, he insisted I give them the smallest table. If his sister tried to place single ladies at the table, I should discourage it.” She then quickly added, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “You didn’t,” I replied, feeling utterly confused. Worry gnawed at me. Why wasn’t I on the guest list?

  “You know what, I’ll talk to Isabelle about it,” she said. “There’s probably just a mix-up. And I just texted you the chef’s number.”

  “Thank you.” My voice was shaking a bit. When the call disconnected, I took a deep breath and called the chef right away. Despite everything, I wanted Isabelle's party to be perfect. The phone rang a couple of times, and I was about to press cancel when she picked up.

  "Hi, I'm Ellie," I said immediately.

  "Hi, Ellie. I’m Sheila. You're the consultant chef, right?"

  I laughed. "Yes. I suppose you can call me that."

  "Okay, great. I managed the entree and main course, but I’m having trouble finding a recipe for the chocolate souffle that has any taste when I use gluten-free flour."

  "I have one. I can do the dessert myself if you want, or we can talk it through, and then I can send over instructions."

  “Let’s do the following. You send me the recipe, and I’ll make it two or three times just to be sure it’s perfect. And if I have any trouble, I’ll contact you, okay?”

  “Sounds great. I’ll send you the recipe this evening. I have to write it down since it’s only in my head right now. I used it at the restaurant where I was before, but I don’t have it stored anywhere.”

  “I’ll be waiting. Thank you so much.”

  After the conversation ended, I wasn’t sure how to distract myself any longer. I couldn’t get the planner’s words out of my mind. It didn’t make sense. Isabelle always spoke as if it was a given that I’d be there. But she never officially invited me. What if Ian didn’t want me there?

  It was a ridiculous thought, but it bumped into my mind anyway. He said he loved me. But maybe that didn’t mean forever for him? My chest tightened.

  I loosened the scarf a little bit and almost walked into a pedestrian. That was how lost in my mind I was. I arrived at the restaurant with five minutes to spare until my shift started. I changed into my chef uniform with lightning speed. Even though I had no time left, I called Henry from the personnel room. I felt like I was going crazy.

  "Hey, Ellie. How’s it going?"

  "I'm not sure, honestly."

  "What happened? Are you sick? You sound like you have a cold.”

  I smiled. "No, my nose is a bit runny, but I don't have a cold. Don't worry."

  "So, what's wrong?"

  "I'm not sure. I, well, you know that Isabelle postponed the wedding but couldn’t cancel the venue, so she is still having a party. I spoke to the event planner about something food-related, and she mentioned that Ian is not bringing a plus one."

  "That bastard! I'm going to—”

  Oh, Jesus. Why did I think that talking to Henry would help? My hot-headed brother wasn’t the best person to talk to in a crisis. He lived by the motto Shoot first and ask questions later. But he was my brother, and I loved him to bits.

  "You're not going to do anything, Henry. I just... I don't know. I needed to talk about this to someone. Am I overreacting? Wait, don’t answer that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m sure you’ll say I’m not. But you always jump the gun, so you’re not exactly a ro
le model when it comes to this.”

  “Thanks for the compliment.”

  “I’m sorry. I sounded like a jerk.”

  “No, you’re right. I am like that.”

  I heard someone call my name. “Shoot, I have to go. Sorry for dropping this on you. I’m not sure why I did. I love him, Henry. He made me believe that a real relationship was possible, you know?"

  “Ellie, I don’t know what to say. I’m still happy with no-strings flings, so yeah....”

  “I know. Thanks for listening to me. And don’t murder Ian, okay?”

  He groaned.

  “Promise you won’t call him.”

  “Wait a second. There’s a huge difference between not murdering and not calling.”

  “Henry,” I said in a warning tone.

  “Fine. I won’t call him.”

  “Thanks. Shit, they’re calling me again, I’ve got to get out there. Talk to you later, okay? Bye.”

  I slipped my phone in one of my back pockets and headed to my station. As usual, the hustle and bustle of the kitchen kept me busy. I didn’t have time to think about anything except juggling the salad and dessert orders.

  Midway through the shift, Ian texted me. And just like that, my anxiety kicked back in. My heart lodged in my throat.

  Ian: Want to meet after you finish?

  Biting my lip, I hovered with my thumbs over the screen, typing back before I could talk myself out of it.

  Ellie: Sure. What are we doing? I’m in the mood for Dumont’s.

  Ian: Done! I’ll make a reservation!!

  It was a good thing I was seeing him tonight. I was going to bring up the party. Talking about difficult things didn’t come easy to me. For as long as I remembered, whenever things got tough, I closed up and sort of waited for it to pass. When Dad left and Mom was heartbroken, I always listened because she needed it, but I was the exact opposite. I rarely said anything back. I felt it would only make her sadder and wouldn’t help at all.

  But I loved Ian. I was head over heels, and I had a feeling I was just going to fumble my way through this conversation, but I was going to try.

  I was bone-tired when I finished my shift. In the changing room, I bumped into Nancy, who was spraying her armpits with deodorant. She was around all the time; I had no idea how she did it.

  “Hey, Ellie,” she said. “Tired, huh?”

  “Exhausted.” I took out my jeans and sweater but didn’t start to change. I was waiting until she left.

  “By the way, I have some news for you,” she said.

  “Oh?”

  “Our New Orleans restaurant is also extending you a job offer.”

  “Wow. Oh, wow.” I was too stunned to say anything else. “How come?”

  She winked at me. “I told them we want to keep you here. I might have praised you a bit too much, because they want you now.”

  “I’m flattered.”

  “Obviously, you can still do the rotation if you want. Their vacancy is at the pastry station too. They sent me your offer this morning. I was so busy that I didn’t even get to forward it to you, but I’ll do it ASAP.”

  I nodded, barely believing my luck. Two incredible restaurants were giving me a job offer.

  “Thank you!”

  “All right, I’m about as refreshed as I can get. I’ll leave you to change.”

  I was still in a daze as I came out of the building, bundled up in my coat. I tightened my scarf around my neck because it was so windy that the cold seeped into my bones instantly. I loved walking, but even for me, it was too chilly, so I Ubered to Dumont’s. My nerves hit me full force on the way, and even more so when I stepped inside the restaurant. Ian waved to me from a table in the center of the room. The place was packed.

  Despite my nerves, my face instantly morphed into a smile as I walked toward him. He was wearing a Henley shirt again. It was my favorite outfit because it showed off his physique nicely.

  “Sorry about the table. I wanted one in a corner, but not even knowing the boss got me that.”

  “Dumont’s is a popular place,” I agreed. He kissed the corner of my mouth, lingering with his lips on my cheek. The touch electrified me. The faint smell of his cologne surrounded me like a cloud. Instinctively, I leaned in, and he chuckled.

  “I could kiss you, but we might get cited for public indecency.”

  Clearing my throat, I pulled back. “Hey, don’t joke about that. Not when I’m hungry.”

  He held his hands up in defense. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Come on, let’s order.”

  As we sat down, I got my phone out of my pocket, putting it on the table as we each opened a menu. My pulse sped up as I looked at him, wondering if I should bring Isabelle’s event up now. My palms were sweaty already. I wasn’t sure how to say this without sounding pushy or like I was accusing him of something. I just wanted to clear the air. But perhaps it was best to wait until after we’d eaten.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ian

  We were both so hungry that we cleared our plates in record time. The place was too crowded, and it wasn’t relaxing at all. I could barely hear my own thoughts, let alone carry on a conversation with Ellie.

  “Want to go?” I asked her over all the noise.

  She nodded eagerly. I helped her put her coat on. Something was off with her. All throughout dinner, she tapped her foot against the floor. She didn’t just seem tired but nervous. A few times, I had the distinct impression that she wanted to say something but then stopped abruptly. When we walked out on the street, she started fiddling with her thumbs. I planned to find out exactly what was wrong, but I needed to get her to my apartment first. I did my best work when we were alone. The weather had changed for the worse while we were inside; it was colder, and it had started raining too.

  “I’m gonna order an Uber.” Taking out my phone, I groaned. “No battery.”

  “I’ll order it from mine.”

  I looked over her shoulder, wondering how she even used her phone, it was so tiny. Instead of opening the Uber app, she clicked the email icon by mistake. A headline caught my attention.

  Subject: Your New Orleans job offer.

  Text Preview: Hey Ellie!

  The NO team is delighted that you’re interested. I’m forwarding you all the details...

  She looked from the phone up to me. My jaw was clenched so tight that my teeth were hurting. I felt as if someone punched me in the chest and then in the face.

  Clearing my throat, I stepped in front of her, asking, “You have a job offer in New Orleans?”

  "My boss told the crew in New Orleans that she made me an offer. So they made one too. She didn’t have time to send it to me until now.”

  “Wait, so you already knew about it?” Was this why she was so nervous tonight? Did she want to take the job?

  “She only told me today, asked if I wanted to see the offer.”

  Though Ellie didn’t seem overly excited about it, I had to know. “What did you tell her?”

  “To send it, of course. It’s always good to keep the options open.”

  I jerked my head back. Was I an option to her? She was everything to me. Couldn't she see that? Was I overreacting? I’d been the one who told her that she should choose what was best for her career. But right in this moment, I realized that I didn’t want her to be anywhere else but here, with me. Was I overreacting to an email? Hell, yes. But the thought of losing her made me irrational. She looked at me questioningly, probably wondering why I was so uptight about an email. I had to calm down, but I just couldn’t. “Was this what you were so nervous about tonight?”

  Her eyes widened. “Umm... no. It was something else.”

  “Were you going to tell me about this?”

  “Obviously.” She cleared her throat, shaking her head. "Let's not talk about this now, okay? I’ve been on my feet the whole day. I want to have a clear head."

  "You want to have a clear head... okay,” I said slowly. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing th
ough. I sure as hell needed to calm down. But I wanted us to do it together, not apart.

  “I’m gonna take a cab to my apartment,” I told her, hoping she’d decide to join me so we could talk this through.

  She frowned, fiddling with her thumbs on her phone. “Ian, I...” Her voice trailed, and she nodded. “Okay. If you think that’s best.”

  I didn’t think this was best at all. I wanted to take her home and keep her there, but as she got in her cab and I got in mine, she’d apparently decided she wanted to be alone tonight. Obviously, tonight wasn’t going according to plan. At all.

  ***

  Instead of going home, I went to the office even though it was late. I needed to do something to work off this adrenaline. A few hours of coding would help. To my surprise, Dylan was still there.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, following me into my office.

  “I want to work on code for a few hours.”

  "Good. I want to discuss something."

  "Not now."

  “Come on. I need an honest opinion."

  "Not now!" I said in a measured, low voice, sitting in my chair.

  My brother frowned. "Who pissed you off?"

  I cocked a brow.

  “Hey. You show up at the office at this hour, and you’re in a bad mood. You’re never in a bad mood. Something’s off.”

  "Don't test me, Dylan. Not right now."

  "Fine! I'm leaving before you bite my head off."

  "Good strategy," I replied just before he left my office. I swear, three seconds later, my sister Isabelle called. I couldn't stop laughing, despite everything. I was sure Dylan put her up to this.

  He was taking a page out of my own book. That's what I always did when I couldn't reach my brother: I asked Isabelle to do it. I could just ignore her call, but I didn’t want to. Talking to my sister always put things in perspective, so I answered.

  "Hey. How are you?" she asked in a chirpy voice.

  "Don't pretend like Dylan didn't put you up to this."

  "Man, you catch on fast."

  "I invented this technique, remember?"