Page 138 of Hate You Up Close


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Instantly, I inhale the smell of fresh flowers, vanilla frosting, and crisp champagne as we make our way into the elegant home. The chic living and dining room is an open concept, allowing guests to grab drinks and appetizers from the table as they mingle and wait for the shower to start.

Navy and coral, which I’m assuming are their wedding colors, decorate the expansive space. Lavish flower arrangements, tablecloths, picture frames, and cocktails in shades of blue and pink adorn every surface to celebrate the soon-to-be bride and groom.

Elliot’s mom did a wonderful job putting this together. Skylar and Everett are incredibly lucky to have her.

“Elliot!You made it,” a sweet voice bellows.

We both spin around to find a beautiful, older woman reaching for Elliot. She has his defined cheekbones and golden hair, and I instantly know this stunning woman is his mother.

She’s breathtakingly gorgeous.

“Hey, Mom,” Elliot smiles, still clutching my hand as he hugs her with his free arm.

“Oh, I’m so happy you could come,” she chirps while cupping his face between her hands. Her eyes bounce between his, shimmering with how much she loves her son.

“Me too,” he nods, returning her elated smile. “You did a great job, Mom. The house looks amazing.”

She purses her lips together and waves a hand in the air.

“Ah, I can’t take all of the credit. I had lots of help from Kara, Skylar’s sister,” she adds. “She’s an absolute doll.”

She pulls her hands away from Elliot’s face as her gaze shifts to me. Her green eyes instantly widen with shock.

“Oh my gosh! Hi!”She beams. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to be so rude. I was just so excited to see Elliot that I didn't realize he had brought someone.” Her gaze lowers to our joined hands.

“I’m Claire,” she says in a chipper tone, extending out a hand.

Before I have a chance to respond, Elliot cuts in.

“Mom,” he clears his throat nervously. “This is Roxy.”

Roxy.

He introduced me as Roxy, and I don’t think he realizes just how much that means to me. Because only he calls me Roxanne. Because he knows I prefer to be called Roxy. Because my dad called me Roxy, and the nickname helps me feel close to him.

My heart tightens in my chest at the gesture.

“She’s my…” he trails off, swallowing thickly as he stares down at me with unnamed emotions.

She’s my assistant.

She’s my friend.

I hold his stare, waiting for him to say one of the two.

“She’s…” he stammers, his eyes never leaving mine. “Very special to me.”

Claire's eyes light up, glossing over as her gaze bounces between us. A joyous smile stretches across her face.

“Hi,” I chime in, reaching for her hand.

Instead of shaking my hand, she pulls me into a warm hug. When she pulls back, her eyes sparkle with unshed tears. Elliot warned me before we arrived that his mom is a crier. Heseemed kind of embarrassed about it, but I think it’s really sweet.

“Has he been good to you?” Claire says in a serious tone, arching a brow at Elliot. “Because if not, he’s not too old for his momma to put him in his place.”

I chuckle and Elliot rolls his eyes.

“He’s been great,” I laugh playfully, nudging his shoulder with mine. His cheeks warm, turning rosy red.

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