by Laura Gray
“Okay, seriously,” the green-eyed man said to Ellie with a hard, level gaze. “I need to get out of here. I have to be somewhere. Deal with your relationship crap later.”
“Wow, you picked a real winner, El,” Edwin howled from the other side of the door. “Yet another guy that doesn’t give a damn about you.”
“Dude, you are seriously pissing me off!” the green-eyed man growled at the door. “Just be an adult and open this door and deal with your shit on your own—”
“No, you know what, fuck you!” Edwin yelled. The green-eyed man took a step back from the door in surprise. “And fuck you too El! If you gave a shit about me you wouldn’t have fucking run away from me, and if you gave a shit about me, you’d realize that our relationship ended because you’re a selfish, cold, cruel bitch. Anyone would pick that waitress over your shit. At least she knew how to have a good time.”
Ellie stared at the door in silence. She had nothing to say to this man.
“Have a good one,” Edwin finished with a mocking knock on the door. They heard his footsteps trail further and further away from the terrace door. He was gone. He’d left them there out of sheer spite.
Ellie turned around and walked away from the door, towards the edge of the terrace, near the water tanks. She crouched down beside one of them and sat down to wait. She knew it wouldn’t be long before someone came by to open the door—Connie and Arjun had to realize she was missing at some point. If not, the staff would come by to check the terrace at night. Someone would come, eventually. Unlike the green-eyed man, she didn’t have anywhere important to be.
What she didn’t want right now was to speak to anyone. Her spat with Edwin had dredged up old, suffocating emotions back to the surface. It was like a switch; whenever she would get near Edwin and hear him speak, suddenly she’d feel incompetent, insignificant, selfish—everything she’d always feared becoming. He knew what to say to strike at her deepest fears.
I’m not giving that power to anyone, again, ever, Ellie swore to herself for the millionth time since their breakup. God, I could use a drink right now.
The irony of her being right above a bar and being out of reach of liquor almost made her smile. Almost.
“What a fucked-up night,” Ellie conceded, leaning her head back against the tank behind her. So much for a celebration.
“Hey.” Ellie heard a voice behind her say. She turned to glance at the green-eyed man who’d walked up to her. Ellie belatedly realized that a few tears had left her eyes. She hastily wiped them off and raised her chin.
“Yeah, I really can’t take more shit from you right now,” Ellie stated matter-of-factly. “If you want to get out of here immediately, do it yourself.”
“There’s no point,” he rumbled. “Someone will come eventually—at least the staff will when they want to clear the club. We just have to wait.”
“Then what do you want?”
The man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flask. Even from a distance, Ellie could tell it was a very expensive flask; there were intricate metallic designs curling all around the flask’s body, giving it a regal, elegant look.
“Do you want a drink?” the man asked her.
Ellie sighed. “I really do.”
The ghost of a smile passed by the man’s face, quickly overshadowed by his usual pensive expression. He handed Ellie the flask and went to sit by the tank that was opposite hers. The light of the setting sun escaped in sparse rays through New York’s sky-high buildings, hitting the man before her. His green eyes seemed to glow abnormally. Ellie tried not to stare and turned her eyes to the flask in her hands.
The metallic curling design came together in the centre of the flask to create an old, bearded wizard. His eyes were closed and he held a sword in his hands. The tip of the sword was gold—it shone bright yellow when Ellie tilted it to face the light.
“This is fancy,” she commented.
“It was my father’s,” the man said plainly. “The whiskey inside is fancier. Try it.”
Giving him a bemused look, Ellie took a sip of the liqueur inside the bottle. It tasted amazing; the whiskey slid down her throat with ease, leaving a slightly salty but enjoyable taste in her mouth.
“This is incredible,” Ellie said, looking up to face the man. “What whiskey is this?”
“Isabella's Islay.”
“Hmmm, I’ve never heard of it,” Ellie replied. “Thanks for the, um, drink. I needed it.”
“Me too,” he replied with the tiniest of smiles. It didn’t reach his eyes.
“I’m Elizabeth.”
“Archer.”
“Ellie?” Connie waved a hand in front of her face. Ellie looked up suddenly, snapping out of her reverie.
“What?” she asked.
“Did you hear my question?” Connie asked.
“Sorry, no, I'm just super hungover,” Ellie explained, shaking her head.
“I asked if didn’t Edmund see you go to the roof. He knew you were there, right?”
Ellie slowly nodded.
“Didn’t he come open the gate?” Connie prodded.
Ellie sighed. “Well, he came over to the door a while later and we asked him to open it, but he refused.”
“For real?” Arjun asked seriously.
“Yeah, it got pretty ugly,” Ellie admitted. “I’m sure he was pissed that I’ve been avoiding his calls for months. I ran away when I saw him and he still chased after me, only to yell at me. That’s it. I told him to open the door so we could talk but he accused me of being guilty of—”
“Selfishness,” Connie predicted.
“Cruelty,” Arjun added.
“Edwin’s usual favorites,” Connie finished.
“With an extra dose of ‘bitch’,” Ellie said grimly. “Then he turned around and left us there.”
“Holy crap.” Connie let out a low whistle. “Edwin really has completely lost it.”
“It’s good,” Ellie said darkly. “He’s been making it really easy to stay broken up.”
Connie chuckled at that, going to the couch to sit beside Arjun. Ellie sat down on the other end of the couch.
“Guys. They finally found him,” Arjun said suddenly, staring at the TV in attention. “Gordon Bradford. Wow.”
Ellie glanced at the television screen. Gordon Bradford, owner of the immensely successful Bradford Industries had gone missing four years ago due to his well-known and steadily worsening schizophrenia. They’d finally found his body yesterday, somewhere in Albany. His remains were transported to New York in a private helicopter to hold a small memorial service at the Bradford Mansion yesterday evening.
“My mum thinks he was kidnapped and murdered,” Connie said casually. “You know, for the massive Bradford fortune. She thinks one of the sons could have done him in.”
“We can’t know that for sure, Con,” Arjun said, his eyes glued to the screen.
“It’s just a theory,” Connie pouted, turning back to face Ellie. “What happened to you, then? How did you and the mystery guy finally make it out?”
“Well, we knew we had to wait on the terrace for a while,” Ellie began, “so we sat down and just decided to drink. He had some of this really incredible whiskey with him...I’m blanking on the name, it was Isabella something—”
“Isabella’s Islay?” Arjun exclaimed loudly. Ellie and Connie turned to face him quizzically.
“Uh, yeah, that’s the one,” Ellie replied.
Arjun’s brown eyes widened. He shot up from his seat on the couch. “Are you serious? He said it was Isabella’s Islay?”
“Yeah. Why are you freaking out about it?”
“Because that’s a $6 million bottle!” Arjun cried.
Ellie’s jaw dropped. No fucking way.
“Are you sure?” Arjun asked again, this time really slowly. He raised his hands, the tips of his fingers joining together. “Are you certain he said Isabella’s Islay?”
“Yes, I’m certain,” Ellie assured him.
/>
“Holy fuck, you hooked up with a millionaire!” Arjun whistled loudly.
“Shhh!” Ellie waved her hand at him. “He’s still in there, keep it down!”
Connie stood up too, looking very excited. “Oh my god, we have a millionaire in our house? This is amazing!”
“Be cool guys,” Ellie warned them.
“Did he mention anything about it last night?”Connie asked. “Like the fact that he has millions to throw away on absurdly expensive whiskey?”
Ellie shrugged, her mind going back to their night on the terrace. “I knew he was loaded because the whiskey was in this really fancy-looking flask. But I didn’t know he was $6 million-for-whiskey loaded!”
“Pass the hooch,” Archer said, gruffly, extending his arm halfway across the distance between them. Ellie took another swig and passed the flask.
“Wow, it’s hitting me already,” Ellie said in a low voice.
“Already?” he asked with a chuckle. “You’ve had like five shots' worth in the last fifteen minutes.”
“Really?” Ellie’s cheeks flushed with the heat of the liquor and that of slight embarrassment. “Sorry.”
“It’s kind of impressive, actually,” Archer said with a low rumble. “Takes some experience to drink that way.”
“Or a really awful breakup,” Ellie added, brushing her billowing, black hair out of her face.
“True,” he nodded, his emerald eyes trained on her.
“So, um, where did you have to be today?” Ellie asked him carefully.
“Nowhere that I could make any real difference with my presence.”
The odd explanation made Ellie’s eyebrows rise up her forehead. “And where’s that?”
“A funeral.”
Ellie’s face fell. “I’m sorry.”
Archer looked mildly amused. “You don't even know who died.”
“I know, but you’re going to the funeral. Can’t be good.”
“Fair enough.” Archer looked over at the city, muted thoughts dancing behind his vibrant eyes.
“So, was it someone close to you?”
“Not really.” His voice was low. “We hadn’t spoken for years.”
It didn’t seem like he was mentioning a fact. It felt as though he were confessing a secret regret. He took a deep swig from the flask and passed it back to Ellie.
“I’m sorry about all this.” Ellie waved at the terrace around them. “I should have been more careful about the door.”
“Yeah, you should have,” he said. Ellie looked up to see him grinning for the first time—he was messing with her. She chuckled in relief. She couldn’t help it, his grin was infectious. His rich, green eyes crinkled at the corner when he smiled. The sight gave Ellie a strange, swooping sensation in her belly.
This whiskey is getting to me, she thought to herself.
“Your ex though,” Archer growled. “What a fucking dick.”
“Yeah, he’s a real...character,” Ellie said slowly, taking a long sip of the whiskey. “That was four years of my life. Five, if you count the year I spent moping around.”
“Four years with that guy?” Archer looked amazed. “Why would you do that to yourself?”
“Let’s...not pull at that thread,” Ellie said, inducing a chuckle out of him.
“He’s an idiot for cheating because you’re...well…”
“Well?” Ellie prompted.
“Hot,” he finished matter-of-factly. “You’re really hot.”
Ellie laughed—no, giggled. She caught herself at the last moment and pursed her lips. “You think I’m hot?”
“Yeah, I did, before you came bursting in here and locked us out,” he said, crossing his arms against his chest. “Now you’re just...annoying.”
“Oh, I’m annoying?”
“Yep,” he said, seemingly enjoying their banter.
“What about you wrestling with the clearly locked door handle for, oh, fifteen minutes?”
“I wanted to try it, just in case,” he clarified.
“That door kicked your ass.”
“What about your whole speech about the most obvious route out of here—the fire escape—which was missing—”
“Okay, that’s totally on the building, not me!” Ellie protested.
Archer pretended to think about it for a moment. “Alright, I’ll allow it.”
Ellie laughed. “What about you screaming for help through the door? I swear, my ears are still ringing!”
“Well, I was trying to get to my dad’s funeral, so…” Archer’s face fell as he trailed off. The shock lasted for only an instant before his face rearranged itself into one of its usual guarded expressions. He’d said too much.
Ellie’s mouth hung slightly open as she saw Archer retreat from their banter into the safety of tense silence.
“Your dad?” Ellie questioned in a hushed whisper. “The funeral you missed was your dad’s?”
“Oh my god, Connie,” Ellie said suddenly, straightening up in her seat. “Get away from the TV. Hang on, I need to see the news.”
Ellie grabbed the remote from Arjun’s hands and turned up the volume. The reporter described the case of missing billionaire Gordon Bradford and the conditions in which he’d been found in Albany. Ellie kept her eyes trained on the pictures they showed related to the case.
“What are you looking for?” Arjun asked her curiously.
“Archer is filthy rich—rich enough to buy and share a $6 million whiskey,” Ellie began, “and his father’s funeral was yesterday. He said they hadn’t spoken for years.”
Arjun and Connie’s jaws slackened as they connected the dots.
“Sound familiar?” Ellie asked, motioning at the TV with her chin.
“...transported in his brother and famous industrialist Louis Bradford’s private helicopter to New York yesterday evening for a small, family-only memorial,” a reporter was saying. “We couldn’t get many details about the funeral as it was a very private event but a source has informed us that Gordon Bradford’s son, Archer, was missing from the proceedings.”
“Oh my god,” Ellie gasped as Archer’s face flashed across her TV screen. His dark green eyes arrested her attention, even in a photograph.
“Is that the guy?” Connie asked incredulously, pointing at the TV. Ellie nodded, too stunned to get words out of her mouth.
Archer Bradford! I hooked up with Archer fucking Bradford!
“I can’t believe this,” Arjun said in pure shock. “We have an actual billionaire inside our house right now!”
“This is insane,” Connie added. “I mean, I thought you’d just ditched us and gone home or something, but instead you were off with a billionaire!”
“I was stuck with him, I wasn’t off with him,” Ellie corrected. “And I didn't know he was a billionaire.”
“There's a person in our house that actually has a billion dollars,” Arjun said with amazement. “I don't know how to feel.”
“Don't know how to feel?” Connie asked him as though he’d said something ludicrous. “This is great! Ellie’s going to date a billionaire!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ellie said, raising her palms before her. “No one said anything about dating. It was just a hook-up.”
“But—” Connie began.
“No, no ifs ands, or buts,” Ellie interrupted firmly. “I'm not getting into a relationship. I’m glad I saw Edwin yesterday—it reminded me that I needed to be alone.”
“But he’s a billionaire,” Connie cooed.
“That...doesn’t really matter.”
“Yeah, billionaires are evil people,” Arjun said from the couch. “If you’re holding onto a billion dollars in this state of the world, you’re a dick.”
“I agree,” Ellie said.
“Archer Bradford, is infamous in New York’s circle of socialites as a party-obsessed playboy,” the reporter on TV continued. “Could the twenty-eight-year-old be off at another party during his long lost father’s funeral? More on that, up
next.”
“That’s horrible,” Ellie said with a cringe. “He wasn’t off partying, he was stuck with me!”
“To be fair, he was in a club,” Arjun said. “Did he mention why he was there the day of his Dad’s funeral?”
Ellie shook her head, her eyes trained on the television. “We couldn’t get to it.”
“Your dad?” Ellie questioned in a hushed whisper. “The funeral you missed was your dad’s?”
Archer’s gaze was hard and narrow. “I don't want to discuss this.”
Ellie nodded.
Suddenly, there was a sound of a click and a swing. Ellie’s eyes met Archer’s and they both realized what had happened.
“The door’s open!” they cried together, jumping from their positions on the ground. They raced around the tanks and turned to the terrace.
Ellie’s stride came to a grinding halt when she saw who opened the door. Edwin’s blonde hair waved in the wind, his cold grey gaze piercing her across the terrace.
“He came back,” she whispered to herself, frowning.
Archer was right beside her—he hadn’t raced to the door either. “Follow my lead,” he whispered into Ellie’s ear. His hot breath in the cool New York night made shivers run up Ellie’s spine.
Archer reached down to her palm and tangled his fingers with hers. Ellie couldn’t fathom what he wanted to do, but his warm hand around hers was strangely comforting. He began to stride forward, her hand locked in his. Ellie could see Edwin’s eyes narrowing from the distance.
“I had to have someone break the lock of the door inside for you,” Edwin said as they came nearer.
“Thanks,” Archer replied in an even tone. “We appreciate it.”
Archer didn’t slow down as they approached the door. Ellie’s heart skipped—could she actually get away without having to speak to Edwin?
Edwin raised his arm before them, blocking the door. His eyes were full of anger and he glared at Ellie and Archer’s entwined fingers.
“Ellie,” he began, visibly trying to keep a straight face. “Can we talk?”
“I don't think so, Ed,” Ellie said pushing Archer forward. Edwin didn’t budge.
