Fauxmance (Showmance #2)(63)
Confused, tired, and totally spent, I changed into pyjamas as soon as I got to the house. That was the perk of working from home, you didn’t need to get dressed if you didn’t want to. I’d just finished making a sandwich, about to sit down and make another dent in my WIP, when my phone rang. I smiled when I saw Nick’s name on the screen. My brother had made “Havana” by Camila Cabello his signature ringtone because apparently, she was his ideal woman.
So original.
“Hi, Nick, how are you?” I answered, lifting the phone to my ear and taking a bite of my sandwich.
“What are you eating? It sounds delicious.”
“How can you determine deliciousness based on sound? That’s nonsensical.”
“It’s a skill you acquire working in a café,” he quipped. “Anyway, I just called to see if you’re all set for the Red Wedding at the end of the month.”
I chuckled. “You think it’ll be that bad?”
“Shayla’s opted for a red colour scheme for the reception. She wanted to go for something different since this is her second marriage. What did you think I meant?” he replied playfully. I rolled my eyes.
“Right. Well, I’m ready for it. As ready as I can be.”
“Are you staying at my place or Dad’s? My sofa bed’s yours if you need it.”
I sighed. “No, I’ll stay at Dad’s. Your sofa bed is a torture contraption.”
“I know. Cameron always refuses to stay over because of it. It’ll never be replaced.”
“Now why didn’t I think of that? He’d been complaining about the mattress in my guest room for ages, so I bought a new one just to satisfy him.”
“That’s because you, my dear Ellen, are a soft touch. You need to take a leaf out of my book.”
“I’m sure there’s a devious streak inside of me somewhere,” I replied, pausing before I went on. “Do you think Dad’s happy with her? Shayla, I mean?”
I heard him blow out a breath. “Yeah, I think he’s happy. As happy as I’ve ever seen him. I know Shayla can come across a little vacuous, but she’s actually good for him, Ellen. You don’t see it because you’re never here, but he smiles all the time now.”
Something in my heart clenched. It was true that our Dad didn’t smile very often, but I’d always considered it a part of his stoic demeanour. He was a quiet man. And I trusted Nick, so it was a relief to hear him say that Shayla was good for him. I knew we liked to joke around about her, but we weren’t the ones marrying her. If she made Dad happy, then that was the main thing.
“Sometimes I can’t believe she’s the first person he’s been with since Mum,” I whispered.
“Neither of us have ever really been in love, Els. We don’t know what it’s like to lose the love of our lives like Dad did. That leaves a big mark on a person.”
“I’m twenty-nine and you’re thirty-two. Isn’t it sad that we’ve never been in love?”
“Hey! Our day will come, you mark my words. I’m hopeful,” Nick said.
“And what about Cameron? Is he still being an arsehole to every woman who tries to date him?”
“Pretty much. Sometimes I think it makes them like him even more.”
“We need to go to siblings’ therapy or something,” I joked.
“I’m game if you are.”
“Oh, man, that would be so awful.”
Nick chuckled. “Right?”
I blew out a breath. “Anyway, I better go. I have work to do.”
“Oh yeah? What’s Sasha’s final adventure going to be? Personally, I’m holding out for her to get stranded on a desert island with a sarcastic Michael Douglas type.”
“That’s not a bad idea. I miss that trope so much. Someone needs to bring it back.”
“Yes, you!” Nick enthused, and I laughed. He always had a way of cheering me up. “Okay, go write, and I’ll see you at the Red Wedding.”
“You really need to stop calling it that.”
“Nope, it’s stuck in my head now. Sorry.”
When we hung up, I checked my emails, seeing one from Daniel. I got a case of the nervous flutters when I saw it was about the book signing I’d agreed to. Now that it was so close, I was having cold feet. I looked across the room, where one of my wigs hung over the back of a chair. Somehow, it felt like a step backward to go as Elodie. Julian was pushing me to be myself more and more, and it made me feel good on the inside.
When you kept secrets, there was this constant brick in the pit of your stomach, made solely of worry and dread. It was liberating to feel that brick start to dissipate. Telling Julian that I wrote books for a living had also felt amazingly freeing. The look of respect and admiration in his eyes, knowing I’d achieved something few managed, was an addictive feeling.
Maybe being Ellen wasn’t such a scary prospect after all.
*
Three weeks went by. Julian and I fell into a regular routine of sleepovers. Sometimes he came to my place, other times I went to his. Every day I fell deeper under his spell, but he seemed to be just as enthralled by me. It was still a little hard to get my head around.
One day he showed up at the bookshop. I was the only one on shift. With a wolfish look, he flicked the sign on the door to ‘closed’, took my hand and led me to the storeroom at the back. He held my gaze and fucked me against the wall until my knees were weak.