He did? Ellie’s heart and lungs seemed to expand, filling her chest with almost unbearable pressure. Her hard work had been noticed, appreciated.
‘I know you live in Cornwall, and your shop is there, and this would be a really big change. But although this is a London-based post there would be some flexibility about working at home: maybe one or two days a week, depending on schedules. If that was what you wanted. Would you be free to come in next week and have a chat about it?’
Ellie looked around at the dear, familiar village. The harbour curved in front of her. Just up the road was her own shop, her sanctuary. Her safety net. Could she leave it? Move on?
She swallowed, trying to get moisture back into her dry mouth, her stomach twisting.
But she had felt at home on the South Bank hadn’t she? Had wondered what it would be like to be one of that confident sea of people at home in the city. Here was her opportunity to find out—and if it didn’t work out she could always come back to the shop.
Besides, she might not even get the job. It was an interview...that was all.
‘Next week is fine. The twenty-first? Yes, I’ll see you then.’
See: she didn’t need Max Loveday to move on. She didn’t need him and one day soon she would stop wanting him too.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT MADE ABSOLUTELY no sense to come all the way to London for just one day. Ellie had travelled up the night before her interview to make sure she was rested, on time and not too travel stained, although it was hard to look at her small, practical, budget hotel room and not yearn, just a little, for the opulence of the hotel suite she had occupied on her last London trip.
And as she had made the journey she might as well stay another day. Do some more sightseeing while she mulled over her next move. So here she was. With time on her hands. A tourist once again.
A tourist with a purpose. She was going to walk around central London and work out whether she could live here or not, even on a part-time basis.
The interview had gone well. Really well. More of an informal chat than a terrifying interrogation. She had found herself enjoying the experience and had to admit that the job, being a liaison between small independent shops and the publishers, sounded fascinating.
From the interviewers’ enthusiasm and attention to detail Ellie was pretty sure they were going to offer her the role. She was also pretty sure that she would take it, with the proviso that she worked at least one day a week in Cornwall. Apparently plenty of people let out rooms on a weekday-only basis, and with two five-hour commutes in her week she would have plenty of time to catch up on paperwork.
Of course she would be insanely busy. She would have to appoint a shop manager, but she’d still do the accounts and work weekends, plus there was the festival. But she was young, healthy and oh, so single.
Ellie picked up her bag. That was it. She was on the verge of a new, exciting, dream-fulfilling experience and she would not mope around pathetically, thinking about holding hands on the South Bank. She was going to leave this perfectly adequate hotel room and she was going to have some fun whether she felt like it or not.
It was a warm, humid day, the sun hidden by low white cloud. Ellie hesitated outside the hotel’s modest entrance, unsure which way to turn. Parks, palaces, museums, shops, exhibitions, theatres—the whole city was open to her.
It was almost paralysing, all this choice. She hadn’t felt this way before, when she’d been here with Max. Then having no plan, no destination, had been exciting...an adventure. How was she going to travel and see all the places she had always dreamed of if she couldn’t even walk down the street in her own capital city without panicking?
Ellie lifted her chin. Of course she could do it.
She set off almost blindly, walking through the bustling city streets. Four weeks since he had left. More than twice as long as she had actually known him. It made absolutely no sense that she missed him so badly. That it felt as if something fundamental was missing...some part of her like her liver or her lungs. Or her heart.
It made no sense that she instinctively looked for his ironic smile when committee meetings were particularly dull, that she missed his hand in hers on the beach. That she reached for him in her sleep.
He was the first person she wanted to tell when her mother called with updates on Bill’s health. The person she wanted to share the amazing book she had just read with. The person she wanted to be sitting opposite her, coffee in hand, book open, reading in companionable silence.
It made no sense at all. But there it was.
Ellie had reached her destination. One huge shop, five storeys high, filled with books, books, nothing but books. It was a mecca for the bookworm, a source of inspiration for a fellow bookshop owner. She should be filled with anticipation, with the tingle in her fingers and the tightening of excitement in her stomach that exploring a new bookshop gave her.
Nothing. Not even a twinge.
Two hours later she emerged.
Five floors and she hadn’t felt breathless once. Not a single display had moved her. She hadn’t bought one book. Even the expensive piece of cake in the café had tasted of nothing.
It was no good. She was on the verge of an exciting new life and it was if she were dead inside. She needed to recapture some of that heady excitement from her last trip here. Maybe she should head back to the South Bank and see how much she enjoyed hanging out there in the daytime and on her own. See whether she really wanted to live half her life in the anonymity of the city.
Ellie couldn’t walk at her usual rate. It was too hot and the tourists were out in force, stopping in front of her, ambling along and taking selfies at every landmark, no matter how insignificant. But it didn’t take her long to reach Westminster Bridge. Last time she had walked over the bridge she had been holding Max’s hand, with the promise of his kiss hanging over her like a velvet cloak; rich, decadent and all-encompassing.
In front of her the London Eye dominated the skyline. Ellie stopped in the middle of the bridge, her hands on the railings as she looked down at the wide swell of the Thames. So she missed him? That much was clear. The real question was, what was she going to do about it?
Slowly she retraced their steps, across the bridge and down the steps. The queue for the London Eye was already long and she scanned it eagerly. Hoping to see what? Their shadows? A faint wisp of Ellie and Max, still laughing in the queue?
No. No more mooning around looking for the ghosts of lovers past. She pulled her gaze away and marched on, only to be confronted by another queue. The queue for the London Aquarium. The missing piece from their last trip.
If she went in she would go alone. That had never been the deal. She should just walk on by, carry on with her plans. But her feet were heavy, her legs reluctant to move. Ellie stood still, tourists weaving around her, racked with indecision. Maybe she should go in. Her last and final act of being pathetic before she pulled herself together and thought about whether she wanted this job or not and where she wanted her life to go.
Just a few small decisions to make.
And then she saw it. A poster advertising tea with the penguins. Today. ‘Diary it in,’ he had said. Of course it had been a joke...a meaningless comment.
But still. It was a sign. She wasn’t sure exactly what the sign meant, but no matter. A sign was a sign.
* * *
The queue to get in was ridiculous.
If Max had been there, there was no way he’d have queued. He’d have paid top-dollar for a priority pass and probably been conveyed in on a chariot pulled by walruses. It must be nice to be rich.
Still, she was near the front at last. It was only a quarter to twelve, and she might as well enjoy the whole experience as she was there. Obviously there were several aquariums, zoos and animal sanctuaries a lot closer to home, but that was
n’t the point. At all.
No, the point was that she was proving a point. She was taking a positive step. Taking control of her own destiny one very slow step at a time.
Finally she was at the front of the queue. Ellie’s heart began to hammer.
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ The girl behind the desk didn’t look that sorry. She looked busy and tired and fraught. ‘The tea with the penguins is all booked out. Do you want a normal ticket?’
Ellie stared. She had blown it. She couldn’t even make a melodramatic gesture without messing it up.
‘Miss?’
Ellie sighed and held out her bank card. She was here after all. ‘Just one adult ticket, please.’
It didn’t get easier once she was inside. The entrance was crowded with buggies, harassed families and small children slipping out of their parents’ grasps to run amok. And everyone moved so slowly! You’d think they’d paid a fortune to look at each and every exhibit, to read all the noticeboards and interpretations, to watch the sharks feeding.
Actually, that was quite cool. But, no, she wasn’t here to look at sharks.
Finally, finally, she managed to sidle past a large group, dodge a particularly active toddler and navigate her way through a group of texting teens. And there she was. At the entrance to the penguin room.
It was like entering an ice palace. White walls, white ceilings and low blue lighting. Windows on one side separated the black and white flightless birds from the spellbound watchers, giving them space to swim and play in peace. She felt a moment’s pang for them, confined to this artificial room, unable to explore the wider seas, but at least they were safe from orcas and other predators.
For one long moment Ellie forgot why she was there, swept up in the icy atmosphere and the sheer wonder of the penguins, so graceful in the water, so comical on land. But she soon remembered her purpose and looked around. The room was busy, apart from a cordoned-off area by one of the viewing windows where several tables and chairs were set up. Cake stands and tea sets were neatly arranged on the tables.
Ellie inhaled, long and deep. There was no way he would have remembered that throw-away comment—and even if he had there was no reason for him to be here. But a quick look wouldn’t hurt. Would it?
Of course he wasn’t there.
Her chest tightened. Should she be disappointed? Heartbroken? Relieved?
Ellie watched a penguin dive into the water, its body hurtling at speed towards the pool floor before executing a neat turn and zooming back up to the surface. The truth was that she was none of the above.
She was determined.
She had queued for nearly an hour on a hot, humid day, and fought her way through the crowds. Not because she had expected to see Max; it wasn’t even that she’d hoped to see him, amazing as it would have been if he was actually here. No, she had come here to work out what she wanted. It wasn’t the most heroic quest of all times, sure. She hadn’t fought a Minotaur or anything. But she had tested herself, tested her commitment, and now she knew.
Knew that there was no point leaving her happiness in the hands of fate, or hoping that coincidence would send Max back her way. If she wanted a life with Max Loveday she was going to have to go after it. Show him that she was no damsel in distress but an equal—and a far better match than some well-bred society girl who might know all the right people but would bore him to death within six months.
Really, she was going to be the one who saved him.
So that meant she needed to book her first flight abroad on her own. It wasn’t going to be Paris or Rome. She was heading to the States.
* * *
Max leaned back in his chair and watched Ellie. His first incredulous happiness at seeing that she was actually here hadn’t faded, but it was joined by amusement now as he watched her. Her jaw was set and she looked grimly determined.
He hoped that boded well for him. She might be planning his disembowelment.
‘Excuse me.’ He walked over to her, stopping behind her as if he were just another visitor, trying to find a spot to view the penguins. ‘Are you meeting someone for afternoon tea? I have a table for two, right over here.’
‘Max!’ She whirled round, her hands against his chest, whether to ward him off or check he was real he didn’t know. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Afternoon tea, remember? Only they don’t serve sushi. Apparently it would be a little insensitive in an aquarium. You can see their point...’
‘Yes.’ She bit her lip, her face an adorable mixture of confusion and joy. ‘But it wasn’t a real date. It was a joke.’
‘Yet here you are.’
‘I was in London anyway, so I thought...you know...while I was here I might as well come and...’
‘See if I was here?’
‘No.’ Her cheeks were turning an interesting shade of red. ‘I wanted to see the penguins.’
‘And?’
‘And what?’
He lowered his voice. ‘Are they everything you hoped they would be?’
Her eyes were serious as they scanned his face. ‘I’m not sure yet. I hope so. What about you? Are they living up to expectations?’
Max stared down at her, at the pointed chin, the delicate cheekbones, the candid brown eyes. ‘Oh, yes...’ Was that him? So hoarse? ‘Everything I dreamed of.’
Her eyes fell, but not before he saw the spark of hope in them. ‘You’re sure?’
He took one of her hands in his. ‘I’ve never been surer.’
At one level Max was aware that they were blocking a window, that people were moving past them, trying to look over their heads. That other conversations were taking place, children were crying, asking questions, pushing past him. But it was as if there was a bubble enclosing Ellie and him. They were in the room and yet apart from it. In an alternative universe of two.
He watched her inhale before she looked back up at him.
‘What about your parents and DL?’
‘Don’t let it overwhelm you, but you are looking at the new CEO of DL Media. My father has decided to take an executive board position.’
She raised her elegantly arched brows. ‘Decided?’
‘That’s the official line. As for the divorce: I’m out of it. My only request is that they behave themselves when they have to be in the same room.’ He paused. ‘At my wedding, for instance.’
Her lips parted. ‘Your wedding?’
He held her hand just a little bit tighter. ‘There’s nothing worse than feuding exes at a wedding. Apart from midlife-crisis-suffering uncles hitting on the bridesmaids, that is. Don’t you think?’
‘I haven’t really thought about it. Are you planning ahead, or have you brought your timetable forward?’
‘I got rid of the whole damn timetable. Turns out you can plan for everything but love, Ellie.’
‘Love?’
Was that a crack in her voice? He couldn’t wait any longer. He’d spent the last eight hours practising elegant speeches but they had gone straight out of his head.
‘I can be based in the London office most of the time. Obviously I’d need to go to Hartford regularly, travel a lot, but the UK would be my main home. I’d buy a place in London but spend weekends at The Round House, work from there whenever I could. Get that boat, walk on the beach, win the pub quiz. If you want to, that is?’
‘Do I want to win the pub quiz?’ Her voice was teasing but her eyes told a different story, shining with happiness. ‘I already did. Twice.’
‘But not on my team. And that’s where I want you, Ellie. On my team—and I’ll be on yours. For ever. I know it’s fast, and I know I didn’t make the best first impression, and I know you want time to work out who you are, and I respect that—’
He came to a halt as she put a cool finger to his lips. ‘Max Lo
veday, stop babbling and tell me what you want.’
‘I want to marry you, Ellie. Preferably right away. But I’ll wait. We can take it as slow as you like.’
‘That’s a shame.’ She stepped a little closer, one hand still in his, her other hand moving from his mouth to cup his cheek. ‘Because I don’t want to take it slow at all. I want to do it all, Max. Marriage, travel, babies, work. I want it all.’
‘You do?’
She nodded solemnly. ‘Although you might have to put up with me at more than just the weekends. I might be working in London during the week as well. Does that ruin your carefully thought out plans?’
‘I’m learning to be adaptable. London? Really?’ His mouth curved into a tender smile. ‘Just when I thought you couldn’t surprise me more.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘I was interviewed for a job at DL Media today. That didn’t have anything to do with you, did it?’
‘Not a thing. But I’ll write you a reference. Although I’m not sure fiancés are acceptable referees, even if they do own the company.’
‘Fiancé?’
She folded her arms. His cheek still tingled where she had touched it.
‘I don’t remember you asking. Not properly.’
He reached into his pocket. ‘I don’t have a ring,’ he warned her. ‘I want it to be perfect and exactly what you want.’ He pulled out a box and dropped down on to one knee.
‘Max! Get up!’
‘What’s that man doing, Mummy?’
Max was horrifyingly aware that the penguins were no longer the main attraction. The room was full of people and they were all looking, smiling and staring at him. Oh, no—phones were out and pointed in their direction. She’d better say yes.
He took her hand, and as soon as he touched her he was back in the bubble. Let them watch and film.
‘Ellie Scott, I love you and I want to give you the world. Will you marry me?’
He held up the box.
A Will, A Wish...A Proposal (Contemporary Romance) Page 16
