AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We drive in silence, finally coming to a stop in front of the large iron gates of Levi’s Thousand Oaks mansion. Ellie peers up through the windshield, her eyes peeking through her lashes and her mouth slightly open as she takes in the view.
“This is a really… um, big house.” Her voice catches in her throat.
“Levi’s a pretty big deal. And money has its perks.”
Once my car is parked, I round the hood to open the door for Ellie. She steps out, smoothing out the bottom half of her dress before taking my extended hand. Our hands had remained affixed through the drive here. Unable to let her go, I shamelessly hold on to her, the softness of her skin providing the solace I’ve just discovered.
With our hands knotted together, I lead her towards the front entrance of Levi’s house. I ring the doorbell, and almost instantly, the door swings wide open to Levi’s bright face.
“Rhy! You made it!” He leans in for a hug. Redness and a sheen of sweat coat his face, most likely from the drinks he must have already had before my arrival. “Better late than never.”
Ellie stands to my side, hiding behind me, treating me like a makeshift shield.
“Come on in! We’re still having drinks,” he says. Then his eyes land on Ellie, her body peeking from my side. “You brought a date?” His smile widens, and his glazed-over eyes twinkle.
“Levi, this is Ellie.”
“Ellie, nice to meet you.” He extends his hand towards her, and she takes it, jiggling along as his hand aggressively shake hers. “Don’t be shy! Help yourself to a drink.”
“Thanks, Levi,” I say, peeking down at Ellie. “Oh, did you get the gift?”
“It’s already hanging in my office. Thank you, Rhylan. That was too extravagant.”
“Only the best.” I smile.
He turns to rejoin his party, and Ellie and I are left alone again.
“What did you get him?” Ellie’s soft voice barely reaches my ear, so I stoop down closer.
“He’s been obsessing about this local artist that died last year. His name is Echo Ryu. I finally got a hold of one of his pieces last month,” I explain. The problem with said artist is that since his death, his work has doubled in price and been that much more difficult to acquire. But I found one out of sheer luck. I jumped on the opportunity and had it shipped all the way from Spain. I admit I had splurged a bit, but it was worth it. Levi is someone that’s been there from the start of my career, and I finally feel that I’m in a place to pay him back for everything he’s done for me.
“How extravagant was it?”
“I mean, since the artist died, it was a bit pricey. About forty grand,” I answer her.
Her eyes go wide, her grip on me tightening. “Forty grand?!”
“Honestly, it’s an investment. I know in a couple of months the value of it is going to go up even higher.”
“Wow, the last birthday gift I got was a Tamagotchi pet for Claire,” she says softly, her words almost coming out as a whisper with the shock still in the tone of her voice.
“I’m sorry. A what?”
“It’s this little digital pet,” she explains, her fingers pinching together to show how small this gift was. “You’re supposed to feed it and, like, love it, or else it dies. She said she lost hers when she was a kid, and I happened to see one so…” Her voice trails off. I’m looking at her with a suppressed smile, trying to hold back my creeping laughter. “We thought it was funny!” Her shock finally falters, and a smile spreads across her face. She playfully swats my arm and pouts, coming off even cuter than before.
My laugh is genuine and boisterous. “That’s actually the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard.”
She rolls her eyes at me and gently pushes me away, pressing her hand into my chest. Having successfully pulled a smile from her face, I brush my hand against the small of her back before we simultaneously take a step further inside with a light bounce in our steps. We veer towards the table of drinks, and I pour myself and Ellie a glass of deeply fragrant merlot. Her head tilts slowly, taking deliberate sips of her wine as we both sort of exist on the sidelines of chatty conversations and casual atmosphere.
With my head bent down to get closer to Ellie’s ear, I whisper quietly, “How you holding up, champ?”
She swerves her head towards me, an obvious aversion to my question. “Champ?”
“It’s a term of endearment. My dad usually saved it for when we needed a little cheering up. Like when we lost a softball game or got into a fist fight at school.”
“And you couldn’t think of a better one than champ?”
I shrug. “I guess I could have gone with ‘tiger’ or ‘cupcake.’”
