But every minute—every second—of every day, I wish I had.
Does she have a boyfriend? Does she ever talk about me? Is she happy?
I won’t ask, but I want to. I won’t ask until Ellie agrees to see me. And she hasn’t. I’ve asked her at least two dozen times to meet me somewhere. Drinks? Lunch? Dinner? A weekend at my house?
No. No. No. Hell, no.
All that was in text messages. She won’t take my calls. And she hasn’t answered a text in over two months.
Face it, Mac, she’s moved on. Just like she wanted to. She’s remade her life, her book is on sale, and she’s only here for the interview on the Tuesday Book Review segment of the Living Life show. A low-budget news program with the worst ratings in all of Stonewall Entertainment. Their ratings finally hit the rock-bottom threshold, and even though I hate to cancel shows, I was going to have to do it weeks ago to save more prosperous shows, but Ming said this was the only show she’d agree to.
Ellie and her principles. She won’t take promotion from me—her exact words to Ming. She won’t build a career on contacts and favors. She doesn’t care if she never sells a single copy of her book, she will do this her way or not at all.
So here we are.
She has sold books. Plenty of them, from the reports I’ve gotten. So I guess it’s true, she didn’t need me.
“Mac!” Stephanie yells from the other side of the door. “Hurry! You’re going to miss it!”
But today is the day I let her know… I need her.
Chapter Thirty-Five
ELLIE
“Are you nervous?” Ming asks, brushing a piece of lint off the shoulder of my dress.
“Kind of. Why am I doing this? I feel so stupid.”
“Eloise Hatcher,” Ming says in her stern BFF voice. “If you were life-coaching yourself right now…”
I stop listening. She’s been doing that to me for months. Eloise Hatcher! If you were life-coaching yourself right now you’d ask why you set yourself up for failure… or why you have such a low opinion of what you do… or why you don’t own the good you do in this world.
I know all that. But that psychology doesn’t help much when you use it on yourself.
“Maybe I need a life coach?” I ask Ming.
She scowls at me. “You have me, bitch. And if I hear one more excuse for why you shouldn’t own your success I’ll…”
I’ve heard all those threats too. She’s not right, though. Not about how I’m feeling right now, at least. Right now it’s not doubt. It’s nerves. From being back here at Stonewall Entertainment. Ming and Jennifer have tried to set me up with interviews on all the shows to promote the book, but I said no. I didn’t want to bump into Mac. I can’t go through another round of texts and invitations from him. I feel like I’m almost over that whole relationship.
Relationship. Ha.
Sexcapade is more like it.
But I’m moving on. I straighten out a wrinkle in my dress as Karen and Jose do my intro.
I miss him though. I miss him like crazy. And even though I didn’t want him to text or call, I secretly did. Do. I wish he’d never given up on me because I hate the fact that I walked out.
“With us today,” Jose says, “is Eloise Hatcher, the debut author of The Happy Place: Finding Your Own Way and Living to Your Full Potential.”
Yes, I changed the title. Seeing Stars? I couldn’t do that. Not after I made all my celebrity clients into anonymous composite case studies. No one knows that Chapter Seven is about Adeline or that Chapter Eleven is about Andrew. I didn’t want any celebrity status attached to the book.
Ming says I was trying to sabotage my success, but that’s not it.
I just don’t want the book to take off because of namedropping. That’s all.
“Please give her a warm welcome,” Karen says, as both she and Jose stand to clap. There is a small audience. And by small, I mean, like twenty people. It’s pathetically tiny. But I like it, and when I step out into the studio I give them a little wave.
“Eloise,” Jose says as I take a seat. “Welcome!”
Both he and Karen have been giddy with excitement all morning. I can’t imagine I will do anything for their ratings, but bless their hearts, they still believe in their show. The Stonewalls must as well, because it’s been running for eleven years and is always dead last when the numbers come in.
“Thank you,” I say. “I’m so happy to be here with you today.”
“So you launched a book—” Karen starts. And then she turns to look at the audience. “By the way, full disclosure. I’ve known Ellie, as we call her around here, for almost eight years now. She was a part of the Stonewall family until recently when she left to make her own way in the world.”
I smile, but there’s a little pain in my chest. Something akin to loss. Or sadness. Or regret. “I did, Karen, and thank you for that heartfelt introduction. I’m thrilled to be able to share my first book with you today after working on it for several years.”
“I hear that the case studies were based on real people, is that true?” Jose asks.
I nod, but squint my eyes at him. I told them not to say anything about the celebrity clients. “Yes, Jose, that is technically true. But their identities have been hidden and each study is a composite of several cases.”
“Really?” Karen says. “That’s so interesting.”
I force a smile. “Is it?” I want to slap her. Remind her that she promised not to bring it up. “I don’t think so. Not particularly. Every self-help book has case studies.”
“Yes,” Jose says. “But you know what’s funny, Ellie?”
“No…” I say, still forcing that smile. “Not really.” My cheeks might crack if I grin any wider.
“What’s funny,” a voice says behind me—I whirl in my chair and Adeline walks out into the studio adjusting her mic—“is that you’d think I’d let you get away with cutting my starring role out of your book.”
“Oh, my God, what are you doing here?” I just stare at my friend, bewildered.
“I’m Chapter Seven, Miss Hatcher, the Case of the Risk-Averse Creative.” She looks straight at the camera, which has maneuvered to get a close up of us as she settles herself onto the couch next to me with more dignity than the Queen. “And Eloise Hatcher has been my friend and confidante for seven years. She was always there with advice and comfort. An ear for the details whenever I was a sobbing mess over unfair contracts and egomaniacal executives who were constantly trying to take advantage of me. Ellie Hatcher, you changed my life. Did you really think I’d sit this out and let you make me into a nobody?”
“What about me?” Andrew Manco says, jogging up to us like he might miss something. “She kicked my butt back when I was a mess, practically enrolled me in college, forced me into rehab, and then wants to pretend she isn’t directly responsible for the success I’m reaping now? Please, Ellie Hatcher. I would never let you sabotage your own career after you stopped me from sabotaging mine.”
Jose and Karen are practically clapping with excitement. The whole audience is up on their feet. Never in a million years did these twenty people think they’d meet Andrew and Adeline when they got themselves up and out to the Tech Center for this show.
After that there is a line of every celebrity I used to write the book. Every one of them comes out to sing my praises. As a friend. As a confidante. As the reason they are where they are in life at this moment.
I cry.
Adeline hugs me, then holds my hand as Jose and Karen have fun with the extra guests. Each of them talks a little bit about how I was a pivotal part of their lives. How I came in at just the right time and how I saw past all their faults and found the good.
It’s a reunion I needed, even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself.
“We’re almost out of time, Ellie. And I know you came on here to make one more announcement. So what is it? What’s the big news?”
“Well,” I say, clearing my throat. “I wanted to just tell people
that if they are having doubts about their careers and don’t think they are living up to their full potential, they should try my book. It’s got a lot of fantastic moments in here.” I hold up the paperback. “Insight, and laughs, and even tears. And one hundred percent of the profits for this book will go to my new favorite charity, Success is for Everyone, which supplies full-ride scholarships to first-generation college students all around the country.”
I don’t hear anything after that. I just think about the scholarship fund I set up these past few months while the others finish up and tell viewers where to buy the book. We are still raising money, but we already have enough to funds to send ten students through four years of college.
My sexcapade with Mac wasn’t a complete waste after all. He taught me a valuable lesson. Giving back is far better than taking away. I felt so stupid for doubting his integrity after our last fight. I looked up Maclean Callister. He does a lot of good in the world. Even after people tried very hard to hurt him. Tried to ruin his life. He turned it around and made something good out of it. So that’s my mission now. If my superpower is career guidance, then what better way to celebrate that than helping young people find their calling and reach their academic goals?
After the show ends I stand and chat with all my friends, feeling very, very lucky to have such great people in my life.
But still. There is a hollowness inside of me.
And ten minutes later I can’t be here anymore. “I’m going to go home now, Ming. I have a ton of work to do.”
“Let me take you over to your car,” Ming says.
“No,” I say. “I can take the train. I know my way.” I parked at the hangar so I didn’t accidentally bump into Mac. “Thank you so much for this, you guys.” I hug everyone and then make my escape down the stairwell to the train.
I don’t recognize anyone riding with me back to the airport, but Stonewall is a giant company, so that’s no surprise. I feel like an interloper though. Like everyone knows I don’t belong here anymore.
Strange. I spent almost all of my adult life in charge of people here. I’ve ridden this train with rock stars and professional baseball players. I’ve chatted with business moguls and four-star generals. I’ve guided hundreds, maybe even thousands of people to their spotlight.
I have to celebrate that right now. Because if I don’t force myself to find the good, the sad will take over.
I made a mistake walking away from Mac.
My phone buzzes in my purse and I absently fish around for it as I watch a couple get on the train. They are chatting excitedly, the man’s hand locked in hers. He leans into her ear to say something private, which elicits a blush and a smile from her.
I look down at my screen and my heart skips a beat.
Mac: I made a Pinterest board. Perhaps you’d like to check it out?
What the hell? I click the link in the text and pause. It takes me so long to come to terms with what I’m seeing, when I look up, that couple is already gone. In fact, I might’ve missed my stop.
The board is called Mac’s Delusional Love Affair.
I actually laugh out loud. Then I catch myself and look around to make sure no one heard me.
There are hundreds of pins. Pictures of the house I sent to Heath last summer. A wide farmhouse surrounded by a deep porch. The grass is green, so it’s got to be one of the pictures I pinned last year. I zoom in and see there are two coffee mugs out on the counter with names on them. Mac, one says. Ellie, reads the other.
There are dozens of pictures of the rooms inside, but not the pictures I had on my board, which was deleted months ago. New ones. I click the first picture, which is actually a side-by-side of two rooms. A nursery in pink with Ellie and Mac’s Baby Girl stenciled on the wall. A nursery in blue with Mac and Ellie’s Baby Boy stenciled on the wall. Each one is perfectly decorated with stuffed animals, the crib, changing tables, even matching rocking chairs in pink and blue.
The caption below reads: We might not have one of each, but it’s never a bad thing to be prepared.
What is this?
I click on the next picture and it takes me to a kitchen. A fabulous kitchen. Then I look through all of them. Rooms and rooms filled with things. And in each one there is something special displayed that says Mac and Ellie. Framed pictures. Pillows. And the office has two desks facing each other. There’s a close-up picture of the desk plates. Again, Mac and Ellie.
I text him back.
Ellie: What are you doing?
Mac: Sharing my delusional dreams with you.
I can’t help it, I laugh again.
Ellie: Why?
Mac: Because it’s all I have left, Ellie. Just the dream of all the things that never happened between us, but I desperately wish they had.
I feel a little tear run down my cheek.
Mac: Did you scroll down to the end?
I go back to the board and scroll down. The very last picture is Mac standing in front of a sold sign in the yard of my dream house.
Holding a puppy.
An Old English Sheepdog puppy.
Mac: Did you?
I am fully crying now.
Ellie: What did you do?
My phone buzzes and I tab the accept button. “Hello?”
“I want the dream, Ellie. I want it more than anything. And I know you wanted time to get your head straight. Make your own way in the world. And I couldn’t be more proud of you. But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t wait anymore, Ellie. I need you to get off that train at the airport. Because I will never stop texting you my delusional dream life until you’re a part of it.”
“Mac—”
“Just meet me in the hangar.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
MAC
Eloise Hatcher steps into the hangar wearing a long, red wool coat with a black belt that cinches at her waist. Her knee-high black boots hide her delicious legs, and the only thing on my mind is whether or not they have a zip-up back for easy removal.
Get it together, Mac. This is your only chance to win her over. You will not fuck her senseless until she buys into the dream.
I’m not sure what to expect, but the blush and hidden smile is a good indicator that I did good.
Scout whimpers and her tail swishes on the dirty concrete floor.
Ellie is shaking her head as she walks towards me, her hands buried deep in her pockets, the wind from the helicopter out on the tarmac gently tossing her hair around her face.
I cannot take my eyes off her. She looks… incredible. Perfect.
“Who’s this?” she asks, nodding her head to the puppy, who is huge for eight months old.
“Scout,” I say. At the mere mention of her name, Scout jumps up and paws at Ellie, desperately trying to lick her face. “Sorry,” I say. “She’s been to five obedience schools, but—” I laugh and throw up my hands in a shrug. “Girls will be girls. Only obedient when they want to be.”
Ellie bends down and lets the dog give her kisses. “I had one just like her when I was a kid.”
“I know,” I say softly. Ellie looks up at me, her eyes red, like she’s been crying. God, I hope I didn’t do that. “I bought her last summer after we… Ming told me. You know, it took me a long time of wondering about all those dream things before I finally put the pieces together.”
Ellie stands up and hugs her arms tightly around her chest. “Look, I know it was ridiculous and delusional. But it just—”
“Was never meant for me,” I finish for her. “I know. But what I need you to know, Eloise Hatcher, is that board I made, filled with all my own delusional dreams… well, that was meant for you.”
“Is it real?” she asks.
I nod slowly. And then I extend my hand. “Come with me, Miss Hatcher. I have something to show you.”
She puts her hand in mine and I lead her and Scout out towards the helicopter. Scout jumps in like a pro and settles in the empty front seat, like she knows she’s the co-pilot here. I hold Ellie’s ha
nd to keep her steady as she climbs in and then get in after her, taking a moment to give the pilot a thumbs up after I whoosh the door closed.
I hold her hand tight as we ascend and head east. We don’t talk. It’s too loud, and what I have to say is soft. So I wait until we touch down on the helipad I had built out on the side of the house just after I purchased it last summer.
It was a crazy move on my part. But she wanted this house. This piece of land. And this dog. So I got it all with hope in my heart. Hope that she would forgive me for treating her dreams like they are something to be ashamed of.
I slide the door open and give the pilot another thumbs up. Scout waits her turn for once, as I get out and help Ellie with the same steady hand that helped her get in.
I will be crushed if she rejects me today, but I will give her the house anyway. I will give her the dream, even if I can’t be a part of it. It’s all in her name anyway. Even Scout’s registration papers.
We duck into the wind of the helicopter blades and then it takes off and the world goes suddenly silent.
Ellie looks out at the barn and pasture beyond the house. “Is that…?”
“Sheep,” I say, laughing at the absurdity of it. “Every good sheepdog needs some sheep. She chases the hell out of them now, but I’m sure she’ll come around.”
Ellie lets out a long breath of air and then turns to face me. I’m still holding one hand, but I take the other one too. “Eloise, I love you. And I missed you so bad, it was torture. So I consoled myself by trying to make your dreams come true. I don’t want to do any of this without you, so if you say no to a second chance, I’ll understand and it’s all yours. No hard feelings. No resentment. No debt to be paid back. I just want you to have the dream.”
Ellie stares at me, then her beautiful face scrunches up. “No hard feelings? Well… I’m kind of disappointed in that, McAllister.”
“What?” I say, caught off guard.
“Well,” she says, looking at me sideways with a coy grin on her face. “A man should fight for the woman he loves. Maybe you don’t love me?”
“Hell.” I laugh. “I’m a lying fuck, Miss Hatcher. I have a dungeon in the basement where I plan to tie you up and never let you go if you tell me to get lost.”
Girl Meets Billionaire Page 120
