“Hey.” A blush creeps up her neck. I study them both for a bit, watching them idle chit-chat as they fall into each other’s eyes. These two would make an interesting couple.
“Hey, Jeeves. Can I ask you something?” I interrupt whatever is happening there.
He leans his hands on the back of the chair next to Thea and turns his attention to me. The edge of complex tattoos peak out from under his shirt sleeves. Jeeves has a complicated story, and I’m not nosey enough to ask about it. Well I am, but it’s never felt right to pry.
“Who sent me all those gifts?” I shift as I ask, knowing it may be coming across as slightly rude. Thea snaps her head towards me, probably wondering where I’m going with this. Ask no questions, get no answers.
“Elton did,” he responds without missing a beat. If he is at all surprised or uncomfortable, he doesn’t show it.
“Yes, but who physically bought them and sent them?” I push further. Thea clears her throat next to me.
“Elton is a busy man, Reilly. He’s running a company, and he’s had Neive with him this week. So, yes, a staff member physically ordered and sent them. But it was under his instruction.” There is something stern in the way Jeeves explains this to me. A protectiveness people often only reserve for family.
I smile in response, knowing I’ve probably pushed his limits if he’s chastising me.
He raises his eyebrows back at me. “See you soon, ladies.” He knocks twice on the table as he leaves with a takeaway coffee. I have a suspicion he was only in here to see me or maybe even Thea.
“See, this is where things could be a problem,” I start, snapping Thea out of her daydream as she watches a very unobtainable man leave the coffee shop. “I completely understand Elton is busy, and I love that he thought about me enough to send me flowers and stuff.” I brace my elbows on the table and rest my chin on my clasped hands.
“But …?” Thea presses.
“But he had someone else do it. And I can’t expect him to change who he is because of my preferences.” I drop my head onto my now crossed arms. This is a perfect example of me not belonging in Elton’s world.
“You don’t know until you talk to him about this, Reilly. Don’t write him off yet,” Thea says, with a very small eye roll that could be hidden well if she wasn’t one of my best friends.
She’s right.
I glare into my coffee.
It’s not fair to ignore all the chemistry between us because I feel odd about his financial circumstances. Sometimes you have to throw yourself all in.
She’s smiling to herself as she licks the foam off the side of her mug, and I know exactly who has given her the air of romance she’s holding on to and trying to push my way. But that will be a discussion for another day.
TWENTY-ONE
Elton
I’ve been desperate to see her. Desperate to see her smile and hear her laugh. I couldn’t avoid going to London. I had meetings I’d already postponed, contracts to sign and staff to check in with. I hadn’t wanted to leave Neive and luckily it’s been half term so she could come with me. The school calendar is now etched into my brain harder than last year’s budget analysis.
Between lunches and theatre shows she’s been curled up in my London office watching films and taking advantage of my Amazon Prime account. It’s a reminder that she’s still a little girl and the weight of everything was starting to drag her down. I needed to step in. It’s a shame it took a runaway attempt to make me put my focus where it should be.
Now we are back in Dorset, I can start to reorganise. Neive is priority and the rest of us will have to step in line to what she needs. She’s wrapped up in a coat, with the wind blowing herhair in every direction. Big sunglasses, big smile – she’s happy, content. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that smile. As the temperature has started to drop this time of year, I like to make sure we get early evening walks down on the seafront. With the sun still shining we get out and clear the cobwebs, especially after a few weeks of being stuck in the high rises of the city.
Neive has started weekly therapy sessions over Zoom, and the counsellor advised it would be good to get quiet, active time for me and Neive to have an open space to walk and talk. It’s been eye-opening. I didn’t realise the responsibility she was holding on to. The burden me and her mother had unknowingly put on her. She was taking in so much, and it was affecting her in such a way that she didn’t feel she could open up to me. The reminder of the disappointment I am is a punch in the gut.
A funny little three-legged dog runs up to Neive.
“CHIP!!” Neive squeals excitedly.
Ah, Chip. Which means, Reilly won’t be far behind.
It’s been two weeks, but I’ve kept up with texts and gifts. I was meant to tone it down but I wanted to stay at the forefront of her mind. Neive’s been pushing me to ask her out again, and with things steady at home I’m not against the plan.
“I’m so sorry. Chip, come back!” Reilly calls out as she runs over, arms in the air.
We are standing with the sun on our backs so she can’t make us out. I can see her, though. Her shapely legs outlined in tight leggings with a fitted running jacket. I want her to turn around so I can enjoy the shape of her curves from every angle. Her red curls bounce as she runs, the last of the day’s light highlighting just how bloody beautiful she is.
“Reilly! It’s us!” Neive shouts as she hugs Chip.
