by Emma Hart
And, after last night’s ill-advised kiss, that was an awful lot of time in my mind.
It was crazy after such little time.
Maybe I was still drunk. That was the only logic I could come up with.
I glanced at my watch. It was getting close to dinner and judging by the way Ari was hanging on Elle’s every word, she wasn’t going to let her go anytime soon.
I jumped up and headed in their direction. “Who wants pizza?”
“Me! I want pizza!” Ari screamed, making Elle wince. “With potato wedges? And cookie dough?”
“Anything else you’d like, your highness?”
“Yes. A lemonade!”
Elle giggled into her hand.
“Any preference on pizza?” I asked her.
Her eyes widened. “Me, too?”
“Of course. You two are friends now, right? Friends eat pizza together.” I winked at Ari, and she gasped, clasping her hands together.
Elle glanced down at her, lips twitching. “I guess they do. I’m not too fussy as long as it’s either cheese or pepperoni.”
Another gasp escaped Ari. “I love pepperoni!”
“Great,” I muttered. “I’ve found her soulmate.”
Elle’s laugh rang out in such a way that it made my stomach flip. “I’m also partial to cookie dough and lemonade.”
“Yay!” Ari jumped up and down. “Dad? Can we have pizza?”
“Of course, we’re having pizza. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise, would I?” I winked again. “Elle, if you don’t mind watching her, I’ll run out and grab it.”
“Oh, pleaseeee!” Ari grabbed her arm and hung off it.
We were going to have to talk about it.
Elle smirked, looking back at me. “Go ahead. We have a lot of shells to find.”
My heart swelled three sizes—a bit like the damn Grinch.
“I’ll see you soon.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN – ELLE
“Good?”
I looked down at the shell Ari was holding up and nodded. “Perfect. That’s big, too. It’ll go at the top.”
“Ooh, yay!” She set it carefully in her bucket and looked around a little more. “Do you think we have enough?”
“Let’s see.” I reached down for her bucket and tilted it so I could see. It was a quarter full with various shells and seaweed and other little ocean bits. “Oh, we have enough! Shall we go decorate our castles?”
“Yes! Yay!” She ran back up the beach to the town we’d inadvertently created and dropped herself on the sand beside it.
I followed, albeit more slowly than her. My fall earlier had accidentally found us the perfect spot for sandcastles, and we’d quickly established a ten-castle town that needed, according to Ari, a thousand and one decorations.
I rejoined her at our little castle town and sat just outside the outer moat. Well, I called it a moat, but there was no water in it. After fifteen trips to the sea, she’d finally accepted defeat and realized that the moat wasn’t going to hold water.
We were pretending now.
I watched as she draped seaweed over three castles, gently moving them so that they sat just the way she wanted them.
“Elle?”
“Yes, honey?”
She meticulously arranged a shell on the side of one castle. “Dad explained about your tape.”
Oy, vey.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I’m sorry someone was mean to you.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s okay. I have some really nice people who are helping me.”
“Here? In Creek Keys?”
“No,” I said slowly. “At home, in New York.”
“Oooh.” She put a shell down and looked at me. “You live in New York City, don’t you? What’s that like? Your videos look really cool.”
“It’s… busy. There are a lot of people there.”
“I bet it’s better than Creek Keys.”
“Not exactly. I like it here. It’s quiet and sunny and relaxed.”
“I think I want to live in New York. I want to be just like you!”
I looked over at her. “No, you don’t.”
“I do! I really do!” She crawled over to me and sat down right in front of me. “You have the best life. You have pretty hair. Pretty clothes. You get to play with puppies. I really want a puppy, but Dad says no.”
I knew that.
“I work a lot. My videos take hours to edit and pull together. I can spend hours on the phone talking business. It’s not as glamorous as it looks.”
“No way. Your life is so cool. You do the best stuff.”
Oh, Lord. I was about to give this poor baby girl a lesson in reality.
“Ari, you have to realize something,” I said, pulling my phone out of the pocket of my shorts. I pressed my thumb against the screen of my phone to unlock it. “What you see here, on the internet, isn’t real.”
“How isn’t it real?”
“It just isn’t.”
“Any of it? How can all of it not be real? Some of it has to be real.”
I shrugged one shoulder as I opened Instagram and showed her the screen. “Sure, some of it is. But almost every single image you see here of all these people everyone thinks is perfect, is fake. They’re photoshopped. They’re filtered. They’ve been brightened and lightened and edited because that’s what they think people want to see.”
“But they’re real pictures, right? They’re actually in those places.”
“Sure, they’re real, but it’s not their real life.” I locked my phone again and, resting my arms on my knees, looked her in the eyes. “You don’t see them waking up at six-thirty and going to the Starbucks drive-thru with yesterday’s mascara, hair that looks like a rat’s nest, and a yogurt stain on their sweatpants.”
She laughed. “They don’t do that.”
“Of course they do! Before you met me, would you think I did that?”
A frown marred her brow, and she pushed her hair back behind her ear. “No.”
With a wry smile, I pointed to my hair. “Rat’s nest. I barely even brushed it after my shower before I shoved it up into a bun.” Then my eyes. “Yesterday’s mascara. Some came off in the shower, but it’s waterproof, so not all of it.” Then my shorts. “That’s a yogurt stain from my afternoon snack. You don’t see any of this on my Instagram or my Facebook or my YouTube channel. But this is me, Arielle. This is who I am when I don’t have to be perfectly pulled together. Sometimes, I’ll make three videos in a row and just change my outfits so I can have a day off, and on those days, I don’t even know if I change my panties. And I definitely don’t wear a bra. I choose what I want people to see—I choose the version of Elle I want to put out into the world.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
“Think about it this way—do you go to church?”
She frowned again. “Not every week, but sometimes. Dad forgets.”
I fought a smile. “I bet you dress up real pretty in your nicest dress.”
“I do! And my sparkly shoes! And my special silver church bow!”
“So not the things you wear, to say, the grocery store? Or the diner?”
“No. Why would I wear my sparkly shoes to the grocery store?”
“Exactly.” I took her soft little hand in mine. “I don’t wear my sparkly shoes if I don’t have to, and I save my nicest dress for my videos. Does that make sense?”
“I think so.”
“You see what I want you to see. That’s the same for all those people you see. None of us look that good all the time.”
Her eyes widened as reality settled on her. “I guess you’re right.”
“That doesn’t mean you should stop watching everything. It doesn’t mean you can’t love the people you watch. Just be aware that the fancy lives you’re shown aren’t necessarily their realities.”
“Like a movie?”
“A bit like a movie, yeah.”
“I th
ink I get it.” She looked out at the water. “Do you do all the stuff in your videos?”
“Sure do, honey. I volunteer at soup kitchens and dog rescues and all that other stuff, but you only see a little bit. You see maybe five minutes, but what you don’t see is that I do a six-hour shift at the soup kitchen. I can spend eight hours at the rescue helping them with puppies and dogs and even cats. But you don’t see that I do that every single week.”
“You do? Every week? All the time?”
“Uh-huh. Every Monday I help at the soup kitchen and every Thursday I go to the shelter.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Exactly. Because I don’t share that. I have a whole life behind what you see on my videos. That is but a snapshot of my life. Remember that.”
She turned and grinned up at me. “I will. I promise.”
I tapped the tip of her little nose. “Abraham Lincoln once said that you shouldn’t believe everything you read on the internet.”
“But, Elle, Abraham Lincoln died before the internet.”
“Exactly. And do you know where I read that? The internet.” I grinned and squeezed her hand lightly.
She laughed, leaning into me until her head rested on my upper arm. “You’re silly, Elle.”
I hugged her into me. “I am silly. And so are you.”
She giggled when I tickled her.
“Shall we finish these sandcastles before your dad gets back with the pizza?”
“No time,” Theo said from behind us. “Did someone order pepperoni pizza, potato wedges, lemonade, and cookie dough?”
“Me, me, me! I did!” Ari scrambled on the sand, rushing to get up.
“Come wash your hands and we’ll eat on the deck.” Theo turned back to the house, and I grabbed all the buckets and spades to take back with me.
I left them on the deck near the food and went inside to wash my hands. Their house was beautiful, a mix of homely and beach décor from the blue sofa to the pictures of Ari on the walls. One wall was a gallery of multicolored photo frames. Some of the pictures were just Ari through her life, others had Theo and other people in. There was one of her as a baby with a woman who had the exact same color hair, and my heart twanged when I realized I was looking at her mom.
Poor baby. I couldn’t imagine growing up without mine—it was hard enough being an adult without her.
I scurried through to the kitchen before they caught me staring. Ari was scrubbing her hands and spraying soap everywhere, something Theo was deftly avoiding in a way that said he’d done this a thousand times before.
“Done!” she declared.
“Plates and napkins, please,” he asked, rinsing his own hands. “Soap?” he offered me the dispenser.
My lips twitched, and I held out my hands. He put two squirts of glittery pink soap in my palms with a look that said, “Don’t ask.”
That explained why he didn’t use the soap.
After I’d washed my hands and removed every drop of glitter, courtesy of the soap, I joined Theo and Elle on the deck.
“I can’t believe I get to eat pizza with Elle Evans!” Ari was bouncing on the sofa. “This is the best day ever!”
I fought back laughter. I’d never met a kid like her, and that was saying something since my niece was a hoot.
Theo shook his head, but he was smiling. “You’re crazy.”
“I’m not crazy!” She grinned and reached for her cup of lemonade. “I’m normal!”
“Sure. How did the sandcastle building go? Did you find fun shells?”
Ari nodded since her mouth was now full.
“Yes,” I said, patting the corner of my mouth with a napkin. “There’s a quarter of a bucket full. We found loads.”
“Really big ones, too,” Ari added. “I’ll show you later.”
“Can’t wait,” Theo replied.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I put my pizza down so I could check it. It was an email from Noelle’s tech guy, Carlton, and it said exactly what I was hoping it would.
From: Carlton Hooper ([email protected])
To: Elle Evans ([email protected])
Subject: Please See Attached
Elle,
Per your phone call with Noelle this morning, please see the attached document. It will detail the recipient of the money.
Best wishes,
Carlton
“Are you okay?”
I swallowed and looked at Theo. “Yeah. It’s, uh, from the investigators.”
His eyebrows went up. “Good news?”
“I don’t know. I’m a little afraid to open the attachment.”
“Because then you’ll know for sure.” He smiled sympathetically.
“Uh-huh.”
Arielle looked between us. “Know what?”
“How many people it takes to change a lightbulb,” Theo said quickly. “Do you know?”
“I don’t, but I can ask Google.”
“Excellent idea. Why don’t you take your pizza and lemonade and go and look?”
“Why do I need to find the answer when Elle already has it?”
“To make sure her answer is correct, obviously.”
Ari thought about this for a moment, then nodded her head once. “Okay.” She grabbed an extra slice of pizza, then picked up her up of lemonade and headed inside.
“I can’t believe she bought that.” I looked at Theo. “How did she buy that?”
“She’s not usually allowed food in her room. She hoards the wrappers and the plates.” He shrugged. “Are you going to look?”
“I don’t really have a choice.” I unlocked the phone—I really had to get Emily to send my phone now—and opened the attachment on the email. I took a deep breath and read it, literally holding my breath when I saw the recipient.
Mitchell Ashcroft.
And his bank details.
The exact date and time, to the very second, when thirty thousand dollars hit his bank account from one Rebecca Preston, identified in the document as the editor-in-chief of the tabloid that had broken the story.
I let out the breath, sagging down on the sofa. This was it. This was the proof I was looking for, the proof that it was him. It really was Mitch who’d done this to me.
I met Theo’s eyes and nodded slowly. “It’s his bank account. It was him.”
He grimaced, then moved to sit on the sofa I was on. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and hugged me, and I didn’t know I needed that contact until I rested my head on his shoulder.
It was weird because I knew it was Mitch. I knew he was the one who’d done it. It didn’t make sense because he was in the video, but I also knew he wanted to get back at me for breaking up with him.
But there was always that chance that it wasn’t him. That someone else had somehow gotten hold of it and shared it.
Not anymore.
That ship had sailed.
I was looking at cold, hard proof, that someone I’d shared my life with and someone I’d lived with was responsible for ruining it.
It was a hard pill to swallow.
“You okay?” Theo asked after a few minutes of silence.
I nodded and sat back up straight. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just… weird. To see the proof on paper, you know?”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Report it to the police. My lawyer can connect me to the police in New York, then I guess once it’s filed, I’ll speak to my agent about posting a video that gives my side of it.”
“That makes sense. Will you go back to New York?”
“Not unless I have to. Honestly, I don’t feel safe there right now. I’m going to ask my sister to go to my apartment and send me down some of my stuff. Like clothes and my actual phone.”
“That’s not your phone?”
“No. I panicked and left it at my apartment before I left. I bought this cheap one on the way down here.” I unlocked the phone again and forwarded the email to Bethany, telling her that I wanted to repo
rt it to the police now that we had this proof.
“Makes sense.” He slipped his to rest on the back of the sofa and looked out at the water. “Do you want to take some pizza back with you?”
“Why? Are you kicking me out?”
“No!” He returned his gaze to me. “I just thought you’d want to go back and deal with this.”
“I never want to deal with this,” I replied honestly. “But it’s past five so she won’t even be in the office. It’ll get done in the morning.”
“Then you can stay as long as you like.”
“Do you have multiple personalities? A few days ago, you told me to stay away from Ari. Now, I can’t get rid of you.”
Theo grinned. “What can I say? You’re growing on me. Quickly.”
“Growing on you? What am I, a fungus?”
Laughing, he wrapped his arm around me again and squeezed. “You know what I mean. It’s weird. I don’t want to spend time with anyone, but I like being around you.”
“Oh, no. You’re not going to use the whole, “But you’re different than the others, Elle,” line on me, are you?”
“You are different. My child won’t leave you alone. Even if I didn’t want to spend time with you, I don’t think Ari would give me much of a choice.”
“Mm,” I hummed. “You know what your problem is? I think you’ve got a hero complex.”
“A hero complex?”
“Yes. Like a Disney prince or something.”
“I don’t know. A British prince and an American woman? History doesn’t really side with that, does it?”
“True that,” I muttered. “I still think you have a hero complex.”
“Well, we’ll see how much hero is in me when I kick your arse at Monopoly.”
“Remember when I called you a perfect gentleman?” I said when he stood up.
“Yes, yesterday.”
“Not so much now.”
CHAPTER TWELVE – ELLE
“You literally cheated!”
I gasped. “I did not cheat!”
Ari sighed and folded the board back up. “Dad, don’t be a loser.”
“I already lost!” Theo sat back on the sofa. “I am a loser.”
I looked at Ari. “He doesn’t lose this game much, does he?”
