Always, Ella

by Sofia Sawyer

  Sitting in the makeshift office near the production line, Jackson leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He’d been staring at his strategy plan for nearly two hours, and his brains felt like mush. After spending years on the road, sitting still in an office felt like a shock to his system, and it made him antsy.

  His phone buzzed next to him, lighting up with a text from Mae.

  Mae: To get into Elena’s good graces, you might want to read up on her blog. She appreciates people who prepare.

  From what he remembered, Elena was so organized that she didn’t just have a plan B. She prepared all the way to plan Z. How she didn’t have a brain aneurysm from stressing out that much was beyond him.

  He clicked the link Mae texted and scanned through some of her more recent posts, unable to stop the smile from reaching his lips.

  This is really good.

  She was funny and kind and smart and compassionate. Through her words, he saw a glimmer of the Elena she kept hidden from the real world. He almost forgot how much he liked that side of her.

  As he went down a rabbit hole of posts from the last few months, he was determined to bring that side out in her again. The world deserved to see it.

  Whether she was ready to show it or not.

  7

  Elena

  Elena breathed a sigh of relief when Jackson strolled through the front door of the quiet wine bar located underneath her apartment. She had spent the last few nights tossing and turning, convinced Jackson would have packed his bags and left on the next big adventure without so much as a warning. And with the show officially kicking off tomorrow, they needed every moment they could get to make sure they were a convincing couple.

  He shifted his sunglasses to the top of his head, pushing back his dirty blond hair that was perpetually kissed by the sun thanks to surfing. He wore tan shorts with a blue short-sleeved button-up, surfer-chic style. But it wasn’t until his eyes roved across the small space and landed on her in the private corner that she realized she was in trouble.

  Those blue eyes⁠ always reminded her of a photo of the salt flats from Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia her father had sitting on his desk. One of the many adventures he’d had as an archeologist.

  She’d get lost looking at the alluring, bright aqua reflected in those salt flats. Jackson’s eyes had the same effect on her. She tried to stop her heart from beating out of control and failed.

  Just when she got it back into a steady rhythm, his slow grin spread across his face, setting her heart off again and sending a warm flush through her body. It was the specific grin she said she’d never fall for, and yet all she could do was stare dumbfounded.

  Jackson St. Julien was always a sight to behold, but he was Mae’s brother, and occasionally a jerk to her. So why was she suddenly acting like having his eyes on her was the only thing that mattered? The shiver up her spine shocked her.

  She straightened her shoulders and twisted her head to crack her neck, something she did to relieve tension. Her reaction was only because she was surprised he’d made it this far. That had to be it. He wasn’t one to stick around, so his presence was shocking.

  He motioned to the bartender for a beer before making his way to her. “Hey, Ella.”

  “Elena,” she corrected.

  “You’re Ella. You’re my Ella,” he said matter-of-factly as he seated himself casually into the chair, his tall frame dwarfing it. He nodded to the bartender, who dropped off his beer and took a sip. Cocking his head to the side, he looked at her expectantly. “If we’re going to be a couple, don’t you think we’d be less formal by now?”

  Shit. He was right.

  “I read some of your blogs yesterday. They were pretty good,” he mentioned, surprising her. She didn’t take him for a proactive guy at all.

  She cleared her throat. “Did you now?”

  Is it hot in here? Why does knowing that Jackson took the initiative to read my words feel so…intimate.

  She knew the blog was public, there for the whole world to see. But something about him reading it felt like he had access to the deepest, most vulnerable sides of her.

  “I especially like the ones where you talk about why actions matter more than words. A lot of people can forget that sometimes.” The sincerity in his voice hit her straight in the heart.

  Flustered, she pulled out a binder from her purse resting on the floor and flipped a few pages. “If we’re going to make this believable, we need to be straight on our story. I scoured through my posts, where I referenced a boyfriend. Did you read any of those?” He shook his head. “Well, thankfully, I never mentioned how we met or his backstory.”

  “So, it’s a blank slate?”

  She scrunched her nose. “Not quite. I wrote out a backstory for you to memorize. I also printed out the blogs where he’s mentioned so you could study them.” She slid the binder to him and watched as he read, his face becoming more annoyed with each passing moment.

  He pushed the binder away, his lips a tight line. “So, you want me to be like that, huh? All flash and grand gestures and…this seems a bit over the top. It’s like your ‘boyfriend’ is in a competition to win Best Boyfriend of the Year award. None of this seems real.” He tossed his sunglasses on the table and shoved a hand in his hair. “Are you still hung up on Brad? That has his douchiness written all over it.”

  She tried to keep her breathing even. “This stuff matters to me. This is how I want to be treated.”

  Jackson’s blue gaze held hers. “Is it, Elena?”

  She changed the subject, trying to defuse whatever was going on between them. It felt like his stare could strip her down and see the truth of what she needed. Wanted.

  And damn if he didn’t seem like he wanted to be the one to give it all to her.

  “Why are you so passionate about your dislike for Brad?”

  There. That should distract him enough.

  He turned away, looking like he wanted to unleash fury but paused. “He just…wasn’t good for you.”

  She laughed incredulously. “Oh? And you’re such an expert on who’s deserving of me? With how you treated me in high school, you don’t have much room to talk.” She knew she was picking a fight with him to create some distance. Sitting here with Jackson felt a little too good for her liking.

  “How many times do I have to tell you I’m sorry? It wasn’t like that.”

  “You weren’t on the receiving end of it.” Elena watched him with curiosity, seeing how his nostrils flared and how pink crept up his neck. The affable Jackson apparently had a sensitive spot.

  He leaned forward and tapped his finger on the binder. “This isn’t me. I can’t be this guy. It feels like you’re just trying to win over people’s approval. Again.” The disappointment crossing his face put her on the defense.

  “Is this guy not good enough for me either?” she asked sarcastically. “I made him up. He’s exactly what I want.”

  Jackson’s gaze shot up and locked on hers again, rooting her to the spot. “Do you even know what you really want, Elena?”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She leaned forward and whispered, noticing a few patrons’ eyes on them now. “What’s so wrong with him?”

  “He’s cheesy and one-dimensional. He’s too perfect.”

  “He’s romantic. And nice.”

  “There isn’t an authentic bone in this guy’s body. C’mon. Did you look at a J.Crew catalog and dream him up?”

  She crossed her arms. “Fine. What do you propose?”

  “Why can’t we just be who we are?” he asked, passion filling his voice. “Why fabricate any more? You’re already in over your head. Why make it harder? We’ll just be two people who grew up together and fell in love. Simple. Believable.”

  She squirmed in her seat, liking the sound of that too much.

  This is all fake, Elena. He’s not really suggesting he’s in love with you. Get it together.

  She swallowed, wondering why whether or not Jackson
cared for her more than friends mattered. “It’s just too normal.”

  He made a face. “So what? You want to say that we met in a rainstorm one evening and that a perfect stranger offered you his umbrella? That you had meet-cute?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  “No!” He wiped a hand down his face. “This isn’t a romance movie. We don’t need to be those people. We can just be you and me, Elena. Who we are should be enough. That’s how I’ve lived my life. But you—” he paused, shutting his mouth quickly.

  “But me what?” she ground out.

  He softened, “Love is supposed to be unique, maybe a bit messy at times, but real. It’s not a highlight reel of perfect moments.”

  Elena cocked an eyebrow. “And you know all of this from your many successful relationships?” she asked dryly as she took a sip of her wine.

  Jackson had always been undeniably true to himself. Mae was the same. It’s what made her feel comfortable with them when she met them all those years ago. With the St. Juliens, she knew exactly what she was getting, and that brought her peace in a life that felt all wrong.

  She shook her head, remembering who she was talking to. From what she recalled, he’d had a couple long-term girlfriends in high school and college and one right before he launched his business in his early twenties. Since then, it had been short flings, his travel schedule likely making it hard to sustain a real relationship. He had no business telling her what love should be like.

  “That’s not the point,” Jackson argued. “The point is, I know what you have on paper isn’t the real deal.”

  “But⁠—”

  He leaned forward, mere inches from her face. “Elena. I’ve known you for years now. Don’t get ahead of yourself here. You want your readers to relate to you, right?” His voice was low, serious. Not typical for Jackson.

  Elena sucked in a breath, trying not to be curious about the faint lines that had formed around his eyes and all the life he would have had to live to get them. He was adventure personified, so very different from her safe, controlled existence.

  Way too dangerous to be face-to-face so close. And yet, his presence pulled her in.

  It hadn’t always been this way between them, had it? Something had changed over the years, making her wonder if this whole plan was more trouble than it was worth.

  Jackson had seemed like a safe choice. Their bad blood as young adults would protect her heart from getting involved. So why was it suddenly beating erratically as his gaze dipped to her lips? A glance so quick, she thought she’d imagined it.

  This felt charged. Anticipation zipped through her. She used to think the tension between them was dislike, but now she wondered if there was something else.

  Something she didn’t dare to name.

  She swallowed. “Right.”

  He leaned back again, the seriousness on his face disappearing. “Then stop giving them something to compete with. You said these people are turning to you for help. Why make them strive to achieve some whirlwind romance and series of perfect events to meet the love of their life? It doesn’t have to be tied nicely with a bow.”

  Damn him. He was right again. Part of the reason her blog went viral was because she was relatable. Fabricating the boyfriend was bad enough, but making him into some extraordinary catch would alienate the people who trusted her to begin with.

  She grabbed her glass of wine and put her lips to the rim. “You make a valid point,” she admitted quietly into her glass.

  “Damn right, I make a point, Ella.”

  She rolled her eyes and took a sip. “So, you’re proposing we just use our history to keep it simple?”

  He slowly smiled again. “Yup.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “So, does that include the time Mae and I caught you wasted when you were a freshman in high school with a bunch of dicks Sharpied onto your face that wouldn’t come off for days? Or the time we epically catfished you when you were a senior?”

  She brought up the memory as a way to create a little distance from whatever emotions that were surging through her, but she couldn’t help fighting back the smile struggling to break through. They did have some fun memories when they were younger. Mae and Elena had “tortured” him, but he took it with good humor. It wasn’t until his freshman year in college⁠—her junior year in high school⁠—that things got weird between them. He looked at her differently. Treated her differently. Always took a jab at her to embarrass her.

  But before then, they had gotten along well. Even though he was Mae’s older brother, they were all around each other enough that she’d considered him a close friend too.

  Then, one day, all of that went away.

  And now here they were—two semi-frenemies pretending to be lovers.

  She still couldn’t believe Mae backed this. Jackson had been strictly off-limits when it came to Mae’s friends. Elena guessed the only reason she went with it is because she knew it was bullshit.

  Jackson exploded into laughter, his head tilting back as he belted it out. Although a little louder than appropriate at the quaint bar, the few people in the place looked at him with amusement rather than annoyance. As always, Jackson had people smiling along with him.

  “You and Mae were ruthless.”

  She held her hands up defensively. “Hey, you brought a lot of those things on yourself. We were just there to witness.”

  “You were opportunists. You know how many times my sister caught me doing something and held it over my head, threatening to tell my parents?”

  Elena smiled. “I helped her come up with the terms.”

  He shook his head, an amused grin playing on his lips. “I should have figured. God, I was such a little shit back then.”

  “Agreed. Still are.”

  “Fair.” Humor still danced in his gorgeous blue eyes.

  Elena looked at him seriously again, capturing his gaze. “Jackson, you promise you’ll work with me on this?” She couldn’t help the worry that laced her voice. She was putting a lot of faith in him, and it scared her to death.

  Sensing the shift in conversation and all the vulnerabilities she wasn’t saying, he sobered. “I promise,” he nearly whispered, sending a chill down her spine. With the intense look in his eyes, she couldn’t help but believe him.

  “Jackson!” a voice squealed, grating on Elena’s nerves and pulling them from their private moment.

  His eyes widened. “Take my hand,” he murmured quickly, grabbing her hand resting on the table.

  “Jackson, what the hell is going on?”

  He squeezed her fingers gently, absentmindedly massaging her palm with his thumb. The heat from his hand warmed her chilled one from holding her white wine. “It’s time to see if we’re believable. Go with it,” he said from the corner of his mouth.

  “Jackson St. Julien!” a girl exclaimed as she approached the table.

  Elena looked up at the woman with an offensively high-pitched voice and thick Northern accent. She eyed the girl⁠—someone who looked to be straight from the show The Jersey Shore. Her skin was dark and slightly discolored, likely from self-tanner and tanning salons, her nails were long and gaudily decorated, and her dark hair was teased to a little poof on top.

  “Hi, Alex,” Jackson greeted coolly, squeezing Elena’s hand. When she didn’t get the hint, he cleared his throat.

  Elena lifted her free hand into a tiny wave. “Hi, I’m Elena.”

  “My girlfriend,” Jackson quickly added. Elena tried to hide her confusion. The woman’s face dropped. “Elena, this is Alex.”

  Ah, another one of Jackson’s flings? She didn’t seem like the type he’d go for. She was just too…much.

  Looking closer, she could have been pretty. But her over-processed, trying-too-hard look took that subtle prettiness away.

  “Nice to meet you, Alex. How do y’all know each other?” she asked sweetly, just to make Jackson squirm a little. Served him right for all the hearts he’d surely broken in his wake.


  Alex tried to hide her judgy look with a smile that came off more like a sneer. “Jackson and I hung out a couple of summers ago,” she said dismissively before giving Jackson her full attention again.

  Jackson coughed. “Alex and I have a few mutual friends, so we ran in the same circles,” he tried to clarify, making it painstakingly clear there had been nothing more between them.

  By the look on Alex’s face, she’d hoped for otherwise.

  “I didn’t know you were home. You should have called!” Alex playfully swatted at him, completely oblivious to how awkward this whole thing was.

  Was that a little flirtatious eyelash flutter? He’s literally with his girlfriend!

  He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Yeah, I haven’t had a chance to catch up with anyone since I’ve been back. As soon as I got home, I wanted to see my girl.” He grinned at Elena, and for a second, she almost believed he had real adoration for her.

  Elena shrugged. “Guilty. He’s been hanging with me.” She reached out and stroked his jaw. “I just missed him so much while he was gone.” It was lame, but it was the best she could come up with. She wasn’t an actor skilled in improvisation for Christ’s sake.

  “I see,” Alex said, undeterred. “Well, be sure to give me a call when you’re…unattached. I’d love to catch up.” She rubbed a hand down his arm, affectionately. Her mouth pursed as she turned to Elena. “Nice to meet you,” she disingenuously added before taking a seat at the bar with a friend.

  Jackson looked at Elena with a stone-cold expression and released her hand. “I’m going to be honest here. You were off your game.”

  “I was thrown off-guard,” she argued.

  “What do you think is going to happen on the show, Elena? They’re not handing you a perfect script you can follow. We’re going to be dealing with unexpected situations, and you are going to have to adapt on the fly. All eyes will be on us.”

  She crossed her arms defensively. “I know that.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Do you? Because seeing Alex here was a trial run, and you failed. You think she’d openly flirt like that if she thought you were real competition?”