by J B Heller
When it starts getting awkward, Victor breaks the silence, “Hmm, going by your reaction and by hers when I just told her I wanted her to work with you I’d say you’re going to have an interesting few days. And I look forward to hearing all about it when I return,” he says with a huge smile.
I open and close my mouth, did he just tell me this is a set up? But before I can ask him what he’s playing at, he walks away chuckling, then calls over his shoulder, “Good luck, son, you’re going to need it.”
I think about what Victor said the whole elevator ride up to my floor, I’m still thinking about it when I sit down in front of my laptop and pull up my files of Eliza. Maybe being forced to work with her is my way in, my opportunity to prove myself to her.
An hour later, I’ve picked out just shy of a hundred images that I think will complement the hotel, and loaded them onto a USB stick to show Eliza. I’m about to head out of my suite when I realise I’m not sure where her office is, so I call down to the front desk, “Hey, this is Hadley, I’m supposed to be working with Miss Quinn on something, but I’m not sure where her office is located. Can you help me out?”
“Of course, Miss Quinn’s office is on the third floor, sir. Go right when you exit the elevator and her name is on the door,” the receptionist chirps.
“Thanks,” I say and hang up the phone.
Sliding the stick into my pocket, I go in search of Eliza’s office.
I find it easily enough, but when I knock there’s no answer, so I test the handle and it opens. Poking my head in, I notice the office is empty, shit. I don’t have her mobile number, so I either wait here for her to return, and who knows when that will be, or I go convince someone to give me her number.
Option two it is.
When I step up to the reception desk, I smile at the chick sitting behind it, “Hi, I just called down, looking for Miss Quinn’s office.”
She smiles and nods, “Yes, did you find it alright, Mr. Hadley?” Her lashes flutter when she says my name and I fight back my cringe.
Smiling widely, I tell her, “Sure did, you gave great directions.” She blushes at my compliment and I continue, “Thing is, she’s not in her office. Think you could find her number for me?”
She pouts, then shakes her head, “Sorry, I can’t. Company policy. I could give you her office number but you already checked there, so there’s no point. You could give me your number and if I see her I can call you.”
“Uh, no, that’s okay. I’ll just have a look around for her myself. But thanks,” I say and speed walk away from her. I honestly don’t even think it’s me she’s into, but the name Hadley. When I’m just me, just a guy walking around with his camera, I’m virtually invisible again.
The gallery is on the ground floor so I head there first. The sign displaying my name is still at the entrance, and I’m surprised to find about twenty people milling around in there. Checking my watch, I notice it’s close to eleven, but it’s a Monday morning so I wasn’t expecting to find anyone in here.
I make my way around the room, silently observing the patrons as they take in each image. I hear a little girl about five or six, say to her mother, “Mummy, I want to take pretty pictures like this when I grow up,” and her comment brings a smile to my face.
Kids often see the beauty in the simple things that adults usually overlook. And this little girl has an eye for detail. I can tell because she’s standing on a bench seat so she can get level with the picture, and she’s really looking at it. Her little eyes are roaming over every inch of the photo like it’s a masterpiece.
Continuing around the outer edge I spot her, Eliza’s sitting on a timber bench in front of The One, The Only. She’s looking up at it, and I wish I couldn’t read her so well. My chest tightens as I watch her, the different emotions that slowly pour out of her as she gazes up at the very first picture I ever took of her.
I see it all, her pain, her regret, her anguish, her confusion. And I can’t keep my distance any longer.
Striding over to her I take the spot next to her and look up at the picture with her, “That’s the first picture I ever took of you,” I murmur.
Without looking at me she responds, “I know.”
“It’s always been my favourite.” I tell her. “It’s our story, you know? You, surrounded by light, energy, openness, and love. And me on the outside, looking in, wishing I was worthy of the light that surrounds you. But never quite reaching my goal.”
From the corner of my eye I catch her swiping away a stray tear, so I turn to face her, “I always knew I was never good enough, it weighed on me constantly. You were this perfect unattainable angel and I was, am, nothing more than a destructive force that hurts everything in my path.”
Her eyes meet mine, and she shakes her head gently as a sad smile lifts her lips, “No, Hux, you didn’t hurt me until you left me. This picture,” she gestures to it with her hand, “it is our story, but not the way you described it. It’s me, alone, until you stepped into my life and filled it with light like I’d never seen before. I had a good life before you, I did. But you accepted all of me, quirks and all. No one had ever done that for me before.”
She closes her eyes and tilts her head down releasing a deep breath, “Your fear is what makes you destructive.” Reaching over she takes my hand, “You are not your fear, you never were. But you let it rule you then, and you still do. Nothing will change until you learn to let it go.”
Her words penetrate but I can’t make sense them. “It’s not fear, El, it’s fact. You know what I did to my parents, look at what I did to you, it’s just what I do, what I am.”
Shaking her head again she pulls her hand away from mine and I miss the contact immediately, “So when you asked me this morning to give you a chance to win me back, you did that knowing you’ll just hurt me again?”
I scratch my neck, “No, that’s not what I meant.”
She tilts her head, “So what did you mean? Because one minute you’re asking me to give you a chance, and the next your telling me you’re a destructive force that is only capable of hurting people. If that’s true, why would I give you another chance to hurt me? Why would I put myself in that position again willingly?”
Her words are like a bucket of cold water. She’s right. What was I thinking? I shift until I’m leaning my elbows on my knees, gripping my skull in my hands. Fuck! I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to get everything straight in my head.
I have no idea how much time has passed when I feel her hand on my shoulder. I feel the warmth of her touch seep into my damaged heart, and I breathe a sigh of contentment. That one little touch has such a powerful impact on me, how can I walk away from it again? I’m not even sure how I fucking did it the first time.
When Hux opens his eyes, they’re tortured. He’s so conflicted about who he is and he always has been. I never, for even a moment, thought him unworthy of my love, but he always did. I know his father did a number on him and that’s where it all stems from, but he needs to move past it if he’s going to have any kind of happiness in his life. Be it with me or someone else.
And the thought of someone else making him happy, it’s a stab to my fragile heart. I need to let go of my indecision. I can’t keep running hot then cold with him. For both our sakes, I need to decide, do I want to be with him again? Or am I going to let him walk away forever this time? That thought twists the blade protruding from my heart, letting me know there’s no way I can let him go this time.
But we need to fix what’s been broken before we can move forward.
My hand slides across his broad back and I find myself leaning my head on his shoulder, but he speaks before I can.
“You told me once,” his voice is deep and husky, “You said you would never reject me, even though everyone else had,” he pulls in a breath, “You said you never would.”
I nod against his shoulder, “I know. And I meant it. I’m not rejecting you, I’m telling you, you need help. You need to find your self-wor
th, Hux. Or this will never work.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” he says in a hoarse whisper.
“We’ll figure it out,” I tell him, because we have to.
It’s not that I can’t imagine a future without him, it’s that I don’t want to.
We spent the rest of yesterday afternoon in Eliza’s office going through the photos I’d loaded on the USB stick to show her, it was easy and comfortable. Being around her just felt natural.
I didn’t feel the need to push her for a commitment, or anything more than she’d said in the gallery. She was giving me a chance, and I wasn’t going to screw it up by pushing for more than she was willing to give too soon.
The only problem is, I don’t know how to change my outlook. How do you stop seeing yourself one way when it’s all you’ve ever known, and just start looking at yourself in a different light? It’s not fuckin’ easy, I’ve been trying to shake my demons for years, but they’re so deeply ingrained in me, I don’t think I can.
I just finished putting in an order for about thirty prints with my online printer, and now I’m working on framing concepts that will fit with the hotel. I want the pieces to stand out, but I also want them to fit in.
Eliza is booked back to back today with several events she’s overseeing in the next few weeks. She does everything, from the gallery to weddings. Her work load is ridiculous though, and I don’t know how she gets through it all.
When I asked her about lunch she told me she was working through and was having her lunch delivered, so she wouldn’t be able to see me at all today. I’m not going to lie, I was disappointed. But I have a plan.
I just have to keep myself busy until dinner time, then I’m going to drag her out of her office and make her eat dinner with me. Romantic, right?
In an effort to keep my mind on the job, I pull up good old google on my laptop and start fooling around with different concepts for the lobby. The frame that The One, The Only, is currently in isn’t going to work when it’s moved out, but then it hits me, I know exactly how I’m going to display it, and the copy in the gallery isn’t going to be nearly big enough.
I quickly pull my emails back up and shoot one to Bee, asking her to organise four, fifteen by ten foot prints of The One, The Only. She’ll probably think I’ve gone crazy, but she’ll organise it. She’s never let me down.
Arranging standard print sizes is easy and something I can do with a few clicks on my laptop, but I feel better about having Bee sort the larger projects. She goes through all the finer details with the printers to make sure I’m getting quality prints.
By the time that’s all done it’s almost six, and I haven’t heard from Eliza all day. The nervous teenage boy in me is freaking out that she’s changed her mind, but the rational part of my brain is telling him to chill.
I shower quickly and throw on an old band T, a pair of black shorts, and my Converse. I look in the mirror before leaving the main bedroom and run my hand through my wet hair a few times until it looks like it’s slightly tamed, then head for the door.
When I arrive at Eliza’s office, the door is open, but only just. Like someone went to shut it but it didn’t quite click closed. I reach forward to knock but I hear a male voice speak up and I freeze, “You’re not seriously considering this, Liza. Have you forgotten what happened last time he left? I sure as hell haven’t. I’m the one who had to pull you out of your damn room and force you to go to school every day for over a month. And what? He comes back, says he sorry, and you throw yourself at him again?”
The guy sounds pissed, and I’m about to shove the door open when I hear her reply, “Stop it, Ben. I’m not a silly little girl anymore and I can take care of myself. I haven’t forgotten a damn thing, okay, so back the hell off.”
I hear him scoff, “Really, Liza? I’m pretty sure it was me who took care of you last time. What makes this time any different?”
“I love him, Ben. I always have. All I can do is hope that things are different this time.” She sounds defeated, and I can’t keep listening to him berate her because of me.
Pushing the door open I say, “Ready for dinner?” and look directly at Eliza, completely ignoring her brother.
But he steps in my line of sight and glares at me, “Fucking her over the first time wasn’t enough for you, so you’ve come back to do it again?” he spits.
My fists clench by my sides, but I remind myself that he’s just protecting her, and I deserve his rage. I clear my throat and hold my hand out to him, “Sorry, we haven’t met, I’m Hux, and I’m in love with your sister. Yeah, I fucked up once, but I don’t plan on doing it again.”
Eliza gasps at my statement, but surely this isn’t news to her? I’ve been pretty clear about wanting her back, why else would I want her back if I didn’t still love her?
Ben is staring at my outstretched hand like it’s covered with a venereal disease, “It’s going to take more than words to convince me, mate. You make one wrong move, you make her cry, for any goddamn reason, I. Will. End. You.”
I have no doubt his threat is real, the look in his eyes says it all. And I’m stupidly happy that Eliza has someone like him in her life. Dropping my hand, I nod, “Okay, I can live with that.”
He scowls then turns his focus back to Eliza, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says then he walks out the door, slamming it behind him.
“So, when do I meet the rest of your family?” I joke.
And Eliza collapses into the plush chair behind her desk releasing a deep breath, “That was intense,” she says.
I take a seat across from her, “You can say that again, but I deserved it. Don’t be angry with him. Not on my account.”
She watches me for a moment before speaking, “What are you doing here anyway?”
“Dinner?”
She frowns, “Did we have plans?”
Shaking my head, I smile, “No, I just wanted to see you, figured we both need to eat, so . . .”
Shuffling back in her chair, she gets comfortable, “I’m so tired, Hux, I’ve had a huge day, can we skip dinner? I just want to go to bed.”
I look at my watch, “It’s not even seven yet, what time did you start this morning?”
She shrugs, “Umm I don’t know, probably seven? I had paperwork to lodge before my first appointment at nine. I’ve been on my feet all afternoon showing potential clients around the different event spaces we offer, running them through packages, and blah, blah, blah,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand.
I narrow my eyes on her, “Why do you work yourself so hard? That’s a twelve-hour day, El.”
Again with the shrug, “I like being busy. Keeps my mind occupied.”
And I know exactly what she’s saying without her having to say it, because it’s what I do. Work until I drop, so I don’t have to think about how miserable I am without her.
Standing up, I drop my satchel on the seat I just vacated and walk around her desk, coming to a stop behind her. She looks up at me above her as I place my hands on her tense shoulders, “Jesus, El, you’re so tight,” I mutter as I start working the knots in her muscles in a circular motion with my thumbs.
She snickers, and I bite, “What’s so funny?”
“You, you say dirty things and you don’t even realise it,” she laughs softly.
I can feel the tension slowly draining from her shoulders, “It wasn’t meant to be a dirty comment, you just have a dirty mind.”
“Meh, maybe,” she mumbles as she closes her eyes.
She looks like she could fall asleep right here, “How about I get you back to your room and we order room service?”
Opening one eye she mutters, “Okay, but don’t think you’re getting lucky just because I have a dirty mind. The tightness in my shoulders is the only tightness you’ll be feeling tonight.”
I choke on my laughter, the things that come out of this girl’s mouth, I fucking love it, “Fine,” I sigh dramatically then hold my hand out for her to ta
ke, helping her up from her chair.
Standing behind her while she opens the door to her suite, I can’t help but admire the new curves she’s acquired. She had a beautiful body when we were younger, but now, she’s really grown into herself, and she’s stunning.
I’m still staring at her arse when she steps inside and turns to see if I’m following, “You alright there?” she teases.
I shake my head, “Yeah, it’s just the first time I’ve really looked at you. I didn’t think you could get any more perfect, yet, I stand corrected.”
She blushes, but rolls her eyes, “You’re just saying that to try get in my pants,” she says over her shoulder as she makes her way down the short hallway to her room.
Her suite is set out the same as mine, so I make myself comfortable on the couch then call out, “You just wish you had lines like mine.” I can hear her laughing in her room as she changes her clothes, and I can’t help but imagine her peeling the layers of formal businesswoman attire off her delectable body.
My dick starts to perk up with the train of my thoughts, and I have to rearrange him before she comes back out. She walks in just as I finish manoeuvring him and smirks, “Really?” she eyes the hand that was just adjusting my junk, “What were you just doing?” she asks with a quirked brow.
I’m too busy taking her in to answer her question, she’s put on a tiny pair of bed shorts and a tank. My eyes eat up every inch of her smooth skin and damn it, she’s not wearing a bra. “Fuck,” I breathe under my breath.
“Ah, Hux, eyes are up here,” she says.
It takes a ridiculous amount of willpower to shift my gaze from her gorgeous breasts and up to her face. She’s wearing a devious smile and I realise too late that this is a set up. I glare at her, “What are you wearing?”
A look of pure innocence covers her pretty face and you would swear butter wouldn’t melt in her dirty little mouth. “My pyjama’s. Is that a problem?” she grins.
