CHAPTER SIX
ELLEN CASSIDY
I jump when my phone rings, scrabbling to find it in the bottom of my bag. I finally manage to get it out, just before it goes to voicemail. I answer and hold it up to my ear. I sound breathless, “Ellen speaking.”
“Ellen. When’s your break? I’m dying for a coffee.” It’s Cade. There’s an odd tone to his words and I quietly wonder if there’s news.
I glance at the customer in the chair, waiting for highlights to finish developing, “In about half an hour. Where would you like to meet?”
“I’ll see you at the salon.” He sounds distracted, like he has had one heck of a busy morning.
I smile, despite my frustration. “What if I have plans?”
“Do you?” He shoots back.
I sigh, “I’ll see you in half an hour.”
“Good.” His tone softens a little, “Thanks for agreeing at such short notice.”
We get off the phone and I turn back to my client. Only five more minutes on the highlights and I take my time preparing the equipment I will need, readying the sinks and more. Five minutes later and I am rubbing the lather into her hair, rinsing it out and styling it into a flattering cut, a quick blow dry and a spritz of hair product and another happy customer is leaving the salon. I glance at the clock, and tell my manager that I’m taking my break now.
Ducking into the back, I change into a more flattering shirt. I leave the same old jeans on – not really bothered to change them. A quick brush through my hair, flash of hair product and application of lipstick has me feeling a little fresher.
I pull on my coat, grab my bag and head out of the store. Cade is right on time, standing at the corner. He smiles at me and I feel my insides flutter despite myself. He’s carrying a single rose, which he presents to me, “Thank you for joining me.”
I shrug, although I cannot hide the blush that grows on my skin at the lovely gesture, “Thank you.”
We begin walking down the street, the cool air teasing my hair and brushing down my neck. I shiver and I can see Cade hunting for a suitable coffee shop. He eventually settles on a little one not far from my salon. It’s quaint, almost boutique and it is not the type of shop I would have thought Cade enjoyed.
We sit down and we both order our coffee. Cade orders a double shot of espresso and I notice the sallow look to his skin. He is as handsome as ever, and you’d have to have seen him many times to notice when he is looking a bit pale. There is little doubt in my mind, though – Cade is working himself hard.
When the coffee comes, he doesn’t hesitate in drinking it as quickly as he can. I sip mine slowly, enjoying the taste. “So, what’s the matter?”
“Does something need to be the matter for me to take my fiancée out to coffee?” He smiles, smooth as ever. Tired or not, he’s still the same as he always is.
I shrug, “You tell me. You seem a bit tired.”
Cade glances at me. “Busy morning. Got a phone call from the trust fund lawyer.”
The hair on the back of my neck prickles at the news and I feel a little sick, a little giddy at the thought. I’m trying to keep a straight face, but I am sure that I am failing hopelessly. “What about?” I ask as casually as I can.
There’s tension around Cade’s eyes, but he’s remarkably casual and calm, “Just a meeting to get all my documents in order.” He smiles and it looks a little thin, “Meet you, my fiancée. The usual.”
He’s as casual and composed, but I can feel the tension crackling in the air between us. His meaning is absolutely clear as day. They don’t believe our relationship is real. They’re going to do everything they can to disprove it. I feel nausea settle in my stomach.
I want to ask him questions, to talk about a game plan. Instead, I reach across the table and take his hand, looking at him lovingly. “I’d love to come with you. When’s the meeting?” I smile.
For a moment, I am convinced that I have caught Cade off guard. Then he sighs and I can tell that everything’s going smoothly again, “Wednesday.” He looks at me with concern so believable that I swear it is genuine, “Will you be able to get off work?”
I consider this in earnest for a moment, before I nod, “Should be okay. What time?”
“I’ll send you the details. The morning, I expect.” he smiles. “We should grab breakfast before the meeting.”
“Sounds great.” I have a sneaky suspicion that I will not be up for eating anything at all on the day of the meeting, but I will do whatever I need to in order to keep up the pretense.
I grin in an attempt to ease the tension that is still very much in the air, “Maybe I will take you up on the offer to go shopping.”
Cade shrugs, “You look gorgeous no matter what you wear.”
I’m annoyed at myself for how easily he is able to take me off guard. Sweet words, flowers, coffee dates. He surprises me at every turn. I know he just has to keep up pretenses, but it is easy to get caught up in it all.
“Flattery, Mr. Harlow.” I rummage in my purse.
This time, I’m able to call the waitress first. However, before I can pay, he has slipped a card into the bill and sent it back with a tip. I shoot him a dark look, “I can pay for coffee.”
“I know… but I asked you out.” He raises an eyebrow, “I do have manners, you know.”
Suddenly, I feel pushed aside, acutely aware of how fake this all is. It’s not a relationship – it’s a business transaction, and no amount of searing kisses will fix that.
“No, I don’t always notice that.” I mutter as I rise to my feet. I turn to the door, making my way to the exit. Cade catches up with me as I step outside. He catches my arm and turns me around to face him.
There’s anger in his eyes and something sizzles within me. His grip on my arm is gentle, though, and he lets go quickly despite the embers in his eyes, “Look, Ellen. I’m trying here.”
I feel tears prickle at my vision and I am horrified to realize that I want to cry. I glare back at him instead, “Trying? Yeah, that’s great.” I feel hurt blossom in my chest. It happens so suddenly that I feel winded, caught off guard.
Cade frowns and I can see something lingering behind the anger. It looks almost like hurt, but it can’t be. Not Cade. He sighs, “Yes, trying. I know this isn’t the perfect circumstance, but I didn’t think I was that impossible to be around.”
His tone is tight and I don’t know how to respond. I’m not sure why I’m reacting like this at all. He’s done everything right – been polite, paid for it all, brought flowers and rings and dressed up nicely. He’s complimented me, he’s kissed me in a way that makes me melt.
He’s done it all right.
But none of it is real. The thought strikes me with a thud in my chest. None of it is real, and he can try all he likes – all it does is make it more painful. I’m in a relationship where all my wildest dreams are coming true. He could be the man of my dreams… but he doesn’t mean a single bit of it, and that hurts more than I want to admit to him. To myself.
Instead, I swallow my tears and smile, “You’re great to be around.” My words sound shallow, even to my own ears, “Life’s a bit hectic. Sorry for taking it out on you.”
He stares at me for a long moment and I have a suspicion that he knows I’m lying. His face smooths quickly and I’m left doubting myself. Did I ever see the anger and the hurt in his eyes? Or did I imagine the whole thing?
“Don’t worry about it. I know you’re stressed right now.” He smiles and it’s like nothing ever happened between us. He moves in and touches my cheek, “Don’t worry about it. Is there anything I can do to help?”
I feel moved to tears again, and I just smile, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, all right?”
It’s in his best interest not to argue with me. It’s in his best interest to act like he cares. It doesn’t mean anything and it doesn’t have to. I agreed to this, I signed up for this and I am benefiting from it too. The very least I can do is honor my commitment instead of blowing up at him for honoring his.
Cade nods, “Well, let me know if you change your mind. I’ll walk you back to work.”
I don’t have the energy to argue. We walk back in relative silence, broken only by our footfalls and the hum of traffic, the sound of voices as we pass more shops and cafes. It’s a chilly day, but the sky is clear. I relish in the sight of it, relish in the way the wind seems to blow away the cobwebs in my soul. It’s a refreshing feeling.
By the time we get back to the salon, I’m feeling a lot better. Emboldened, I lean in and give him a quick hug, “I hope work goes well.” I say, and I realize that I mean it. I want work to go well for him.
I want him to succeed, and I kind of wish I didn’t.