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Same reason I’d gotten mine.
I dug around in my desk drawer until I found it. A flash drive of photographs I’d taken nearly six years ago. I made sure the door was locked of course, and told Susie to hold my calls.
The pictures loaded up in a slideshow format.
Nearly two hundred images: cherry blossoms, Elaina under the falling blossoms, selfies of us in the boat together, some close-ups of a blue dragonfly sitting on a cherry branch. I remembered the dragonfly photos specifically. I’d printed one out and taken it to the tattoo artist when she’d inked me, so she could get the design right.
Blue dragonfly in the cherry blossoms sitting right on my chest over my beating heart.
I scrolled through the line of photos, one by one, remembering everything as the images loaded. Again, it was a strange sensation. I thought I had forgotten the memories, or at least hidden them away so deep that I wouldn’t remember. But that wasn’t the case at all. The sights and sounds and emotions in memory came right up to the surface all in an instant as easily as if our weekend at Hallborough had just happened.
I kept clicking the right arrow faster and faster until the series changed to times after we had returned home.
I stopped clicking and stared, unable to take my eyes away.
Elaina. Naked in my bed. Her eyes were on me, head tilted to the side, her beautiful hair splayed out, her perfect body soft and languid from being touched, kissed, and loved by me only moments before.
I’d asked her if I could have some pictures of her like this to take with me and she had generously said yes. How strange to know that just hours later, our time together ended in the most heartbreaking way. A moment in time, captured in an image, that meant my whole world on the day it was taken.
I clicked forward to the next picture, very aware that I had taken more than just the one. God, she was beautiful then. She was still beautiful, and inside this very building, where I was sitting right fuckin’ now!
I could leave this office, go out to reception and look at her with my own eyes if I wanted to. I could ask her to dinner or out for lunch. I could get close enough to smell that heavenly perfume she wore, or shampoo she used on her hair, or whatever the hell it was that smelled so good. I could listen to her voice addressing me when I asked her a question. I could even reach out and touch her in a gesture socially acceptable for workmates.
I could do all of that.
If I wanted to.
I kept my arse in my office chair and studied the naked pictures of her instead.
And thought about giving my cock a tug and using them to get me off.
17
For custom arrangements on display in reception, the florist delivered twice a week. I kept looking over at the magnificent display, of what looked very much like cherry blossoms in a light blue vase, the long branches of pale pink blooms distracted me terribly. Was it possible that Neil had somehow requested them? They were so specific an arrangement… My Spidey senses were picking up on something with him, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
It was pretty apparent from the last few days, that he was avoiding me. I accepted why he would want to, but it still wasn’t fun for me to sit at my desk and see him go by without saying much beyond a simple greeting. It made me very sad, but I didn’t know what to do about it. And I didn’t know how to make it any better for either of us. I was left wondering so much about what was on his mind.
I didn’t see a wedding ring on his finger but that didn’t confirm anything. Lots of men didn’t wear them. I’d yet to be invited into his office so I’d not seen any pictures he might have of his family, or…Cora and their baby—
“So, how are you settling in? It is Elaina, right?”
My sad thoughts were interrupted by the boss who was leaning on the counter above my station with a coffee cup, flashing that handsome chiseled face at me with an extra dash of charm thrown in.
“Yes, Mr. Blackstone, I’m really enjoying this job a great deal.”
“Oh, it’s Ethan. We’re very informal here in the office.” He winked at me. “In fact, I don’t mind if you call me E.”
If I didn’t know better I’d think he was flirting with me. Jesus, he was runway-model handsome. Women must fall at his feet regularly.
I laughed nervously. “My brother calls me E as well, but he’s the only one.”
“That’s right. I knew that.” He gave his head a tap with the heel of his hand. “Morrison is your brother. Good man to have a pint with, or three,” he joked.
“Yeah, that’s my brother all right, always willing to be somebody’s drinking partner.”
“It’s never a good idea to drink alone,” he said softly.
I nodded and smiled, unsure of how to respond.
