The Heartbreak Hotel (Sandy Springs #1)

Chapter One

Ella

Ella had a habit of overreacting. She probably should’ve bitten her tongue when the old man took too long in the checkout queue, or when the teenager pulled out on her at the roundabout the other week. These things happened, she supposed. She could’ve exercised more patience, too, when the freckled barista dropped her steaming Arabica bean blend on the floor, speckling her expensive work heels with coffee.

But Ella was not overreacting now.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she snapped, catching the slight widening of Maeve’s eyes.

Her boss cleared her throat, crossing one long leg over the other. Those piercing brown irises met Ella’s again. “I’m not kidding, Ella. Starting one week today, you’ve been made redundant from Switch Studios.” She held Ella’s gaze coolly, despite the rage that was no doubt burning there.

Maeve was probably used to the anger. There’d been no shortage of arguments that year they’d dated. Particularly when Ella found out she’d been sleeping with the marketing company’s receptionist as well. Annabelle was a slightly younger, slightly perkier version of Ella, except less confrontational and more flexible, too, if the constant posting about yoga on her social media was anything to go by.

Ella hadn’t overreacted then, either. Deliberately overwatering all Maeve’s office plants and throwing her belongings out of the office window barely scratched the surface. Of course, it would’ve been much more impressive if Maeve’s belongings hadn’t been just a sparingly used toothbrush and an old, oversized university T-shirt she slept in on the rare occasions she agreed to stay at Ella’s place.

Maeve had always made it clear what she thought about Ella’s smaller apartment.

Ella unclenched her jaw. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid so.”

Ella shook her head, aggressively pacing the plush carpet in Maeve’s office. With a huff, she tucked her cherry-red hair behind her ears, only for it to spring straight back out again. It was in dire need of dyeing, the brown roots thick at her scalp, but this was far down on her list of things to do. She’d promised herself she’d book in with the hairdresser right after she’d finished with the McAndrews’ file. Having to come up with catchy posts and hooks for a mind-numbingly boring garage-door company had zapped a lot of her brain power. Not that any of that mattered now.

“This is bullshit. Why me? What are you doing this for?” Ella stopped pacing and snorted, a habit her mother scolded her for whenever she got the chance. “Because of Annabelle?”

“No. It’s got nothing to do with Annie.”

Ella’s insides boiled. She despised Maeve when she called Annabelle that. She’d never given her an affectionate nickname when they were dating.

“Bullshit.”

“Ella. It doesn’t have anything to do with her.” Maeve’s soft breath as she rose from her navy chaise-longue made Ella pause. “It’s come from the higher powers. The directors say we’re on a decline. We have to make cuts.”

Ella dropped her head and pressed her lips together, trying to bite back a comment about Maeve’s daddy dearest, one of the company directors. She’d always had a suspicion he didn’t like her. Was this to do with her comments at the Christmas party? If he didn’t want to get found out, he shouldn’t have been letting his not-wife jingle his bells out in the open hallway.

I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

“I am genuinely sorry about this,” Maeve continued. “I knew nothing about it.”

Ella glanced up, inhaling at Maeve’s sharp, triangular jawline, which was all too close to her. She followed the straight edges, admiring her pale cheekbones, before landing back on her eyes. A tingle ran from her sternum down into her stomach, and she cursed it. She cursed this woman for having any physical effect on her whatsoever. Her body had some nerve reacting that way.

Stupid heart.

She took a step back, brushing against one of the senselessly big ferns that crowded Maeve’s office. She’d taken great joy in murdering one of those last year. This one would be next on her list.

“If there was anything I could do to keep you, I would,” Maeve said, her gaze softening as it fell over Ella’s form. “But it’s out of my hands.”

“Bullshit,” Ella said again, but softer this time. The rare glimpse of the other side of Maeve, hidden deep beneath the business pantsuit and perfectly straight jet-black hair, was messing with her head. Her brain worked overtime to block certain memories of their relationship. The two of them snuggling together on a ski lift in La Plagne; fucking in Maeve’s super-king-sized bed and then watching reruns of Grey’s Anatomy ; the adorable way Maeve’s nose scrunched when she really laughed. Ella wanted to bury these moments so deep they wouldn’t resurface. It hurt too much to face them every day. Especially when it was all lies.

Nausea crept into her throat, and she swallowed it down. How has it come to this? Maeve knew the sexual power she possessed, and she wasn’t afraid to use it. That was how she’d convinced Ella that workplace romances were the real deal two years ago. Look how well that turned out.

Not only had her boss stomped on her heart, but she’d also convinced her to keep working for her, to stay late, watching her ex and new girlfriend leave the office together, all while trying to go above and beyond… And for what?

A shitty end-of-year bonus and the rapidly fading potential of getting back together with Maeve?

At this point, Ella wasn’t even second-best. She was fourth, fifth, sixth . The type that didn’t win any rosettes for just the effort of participation.

Maeve gave Ella one of her signature half-smiles. The type that used to make her knees weak in the morning meetings. “You know how much I’ve loved working with you—”

“Let me stop you there.” Ella exhaled, trying to regain her composure and push away any tingly feelings threatening to re-emerge. Getting laid had also been embarrassingly low on her list of priorities recently. “I don’t wanna hear it, Maeve. I didn’t believe you when you said you and Annabelle were a one-time thing, and I don’t believe that you didn’t know this was coming. How could you not? You’ve always been such a sickly little daddy’s girl.” Maeve narrowed her eyes, but Ella continued, the fire in her belly flaming again. “I’ve worked my arse off for this company. Stayed here when you asked me to, even with you parading Bendy Wendy in front of my face.”

Her eyelids pricked, but she refused to cry in front of Maeve. Never again.

“Ella, don’t be like that. It’s nothing personal.”

She scoffed. “Of course it’s personal. You fucked me, then I pissed off your dad, so of course I’m the first one to go.”

Maeve nibbled at her lip. “Blake is leaving too,” she mumbled.

“Blake? You’re seriously lumping me in the same category as Blake? The very definition of hopeless.” The intern had only been at the company a few weeks, spending his first day going up and down in the lift, as he couldn’t remember the correct floor. The rest of his time was consumed in a continuous loop of forgetting and resetting his computer password.

Putting them in the same box was ludicrous.

“It’s not like that. You mean a lot to me, Ella. I promise you.”

Realising she was clenching her fists, she relaxed them and met Maeve’s gaze. Her boss had closed the distance between them, her perfume permeating Ella’s senses, her tall frame towering over her in that dominating way that used to drive Ella crazy. But instead of arousal or anger at her boss trying to get the edge over her the only way she knew, a fuzzy sadness overrode her emotions.

“You promise me?” Ella sighed. “Remember when you promised you’d always love me? That you didn’t want to be with anyone else? Some fat good that did me, eh.” She pushed her hand against Maeve’s chest, who fell a step backwards. “Goodbye, Maeve.”

Ella turned to leave, catching the eye of one of her soon-to-be ex-colleagues noseying through the glass window. She briefly wondered how much the people in the office knew about their relationship. Or what they thought about her. Not that it mattered now.

“Ella, wait.” Maeve’s voice stopped her at the door. “Here.” She handed Ella a white letter that had been sitting on her desk. “It’s your official redundancy notice.”

Ella looked at the piece of paper, then at the beautiful face of her ex-girlfriend/ex-boss. “You know where you can stick that.”

And she opened the door, slamming it shut behind her before marching down the hallway. Tears threatened her eyelids again, but she clenched her jaw, meeting the eyes of anyone who dared look her way.

When she walked into work that morning, she’d never expected it would be for the last time. What am I supposed to do now? She stepped into the lift, blew out a breath at her dishevelled reflection in the glass, and pulled her phone from her pocket.

She knew exactly who to call.

* * *

“What a complete and utter cow!” Winnie slammed two more orange cocktails down on the table as she reclaimed the seat in front of Ella. Her long blonde hair was half-tucked inside her shirt like she’d got dressed in a hurry, but Winnie always had a habit of looking like she’d just rolled out of bed. “Just when I thought that lanky grasshopper couldn’t get any worse.”

“I know.” Ella sucked hard on the straw, taking a few deep gulps. She could barely taste the alcohol over the fruit juice, but knowing Winnie, there’d be more than a generous helping. “What’s in this one?”

“I’m not too sure, but I know it definitely has tequila.” She offered Ella a toothy smile before nodding towards the bar. “It’s something Calvin’s been working on.”

Tequila and emotionally unavailable bartenders were two of Winnie’s favourite things. The friends-with-benefits arrangement Winnie had with the older, forty-something barman usually resulted in stronger—and cheaper—drinks for them both. Unless Calvin had found out about one of Winnie’s rendezvous with the other staff. For a relationship that required a mutual understanding of low commitment, it was surprising how often the two ended up squabbling like an old married couple.

But Ella couldn’t bring herself to ask about her best friend’s latest bisexual love affairs. Her mind was stuck on that lanky, power suit-wearing, sex magnet of a grasshopper.

Normally, Winnie’s nickname for Maeve made Ella laugh. Today, it made her belly churn in ways she didn’t know how to articulate. It was much easier when she was angry, but now a few hours had passed, the anger, along with the threats to sue Maeve and her stupid Switch Studios, had trickled away, leaving these sickly sad feelings swirling in their absence.

Was this Ella’s fault? Her motor mouth often ran up a bill without permission, like it had with Maeve’s dad, and her lifestyle choices didn’t exactly scream healthy living compared to Annabelle’s… but multipacks of chocolate buttons and late nights in the office went hand in hand. Maybe she should’ve been more mindful; her metabolism wasn’t what it used to be. Annabelle and her perfect white teeth were always munching something wholegrain when she manned the reception.

“Well.” Winnie leaned back in her chair, raising her already half-empty glass to Ella’s. “Now you don’t have to see Maeve ever again.”

Was that why Ella’s stomach felt like a boat on a stormy sea? Not going into the office meant never seeing Maeve again. Ever. Never again.

The finality made her squeeze her glass tighter between her fingers .

“Is it me, Winn?” she asked, unable to look up from the ice in her cocktail. “Am I the problem?” Tears swelled before her eyelids, and she hated how small and pathetic her voice sounded.

Winnie pushed her glasses up her nose, studying Ella with large, angular eyes. Her gaze softened. “Listen. Maeve wouldn’t know a good thing if it sat on her face, breaking those stupidly sharp cheekbones. That woman isn’t good for you. She never appreciated how great you are at your job, even before she started taking her liberties. You deserve a million times better. A trillion. Quazril…whatever comes after that.”

Ella sniffed. “I’m not sure.”

Ella used to think what Winnie said was true. If the shoe were on the other foot, she’d be telling her best friend the same thing. But the two of them saw life differently. Winnie spent most of her time outside—as a professional dog-walker, she didn’t have much choice—but Ella couldn’t think of anything worse. Winnie was carefree, still living at her parents’ house, enjoying life day-to-day, barman to barwoman, but Ella needed structure, purpose.

Without her job, something she’d invested four years of her time in, and something she was good at, what else did she have to do with her life? It’s not like she had any childhood dreams to pursue—her brother Devin was the creative genius—or a significant other to distract her. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d come with a real-life person and not from her vibrator, and even that was gathering dust in her bedside table.

She’d been asked many times why she didn’t leave her job after she and Maeve split, and Ella had always claimed that it was a pride thing. That she didn’t want Maeve to ‘win’ the break-up. She felt stupid now. Not only had she lost most things in her life to Maeve, but she was also, rather embarrassingly, still hung up on her.

“Do you want me to key her Mercedes?” Winnie asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m sure some of Calvin’s rugby lads could rough her up too. Just say the word.”

Ella gave her a small smile. It was tempting. But even if she did accept the offer, she doubted Winnie could be organised enough to orchestrate something like that. She’d probably key Maeve’s dad’s car by accident and get chased out of their estate by their three burly Dobermanns.

Winnie finished her drink and leaned forward, grasping Ella’s hands. “I really hate seeing you like this.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll snap out of it soon.”

“No, Ella, that’s not what I mean.” She sighed. “We said this was bound to happen at some point. It was only a matter of time.”

Ella’s eyes narrowed. “We? Who’s we?”

“Me and Chezza.”

“Fuck’s sake, Winn.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Can you please stop talking to my mum without me? It’s so weird you have this secret little club.”

“You could always join us.” Winnie couldn’t hide the smug smirk on her face. “It’s not weird. ”

“It’s a little weird. And her name isn’t Chezza, it’s Cheryl.”

Winnie let go of Ella’s hands and gave a playful shrug. Clearly, she and Cheryl wouldn’t be cancelling their monthly salsa class any time soon. “Well, whatever. Me and Cheryl agreed that when this inevitably turned to shit—”

“Charming.”

“—which it has…” Winnie gave her best attempt at a stern look, furrowing her dark brows in a way that was almost comical. “You should go to Sandy Springs.”

Ella groaned. She didn’t know what was worse. The fact that her best friend and her mum were still talking about her behind her back, or the fact that they were trying to maroon her on some lonely hearts’ island for hippies.

“Not this again. I’m fine. I don’t need to go sing Kumbaya round a campfire.”

Winnie ducked under the table to rummage in the decade-old, tattered bag by her feet. Ella’s stomach flopped when she slapped a white letter onto the table.

She didn’t want to see any more white letters today.

“What is that?” she asked. She assumed her best friend wasn’t going to give her a week’s notice to terminate their friendship.

“You don’t need to look so panicked.” Winnie chuckled. “It’s your Ella reset button.”

When Ella didn’t pick up the letter, Winnie unfolded it and read aloud in a deep and terrible American accent. “‘Find yourself at a crossroads with nowhere to turn?’ ”

“Jesus Christ,” Ella muttered, having a sip of her drink.

“‘Dive into the transformative power of energy healing and mindfulness, immersing yourself in the natural beauty of the island of Sandy Springs, Portugal. Reset your life by—‘”

“Alright, alright. That’s enough.”

Winnie looked up from the paper. “What do you think?”

“I don’t need to reset my life.” Even as Ella said it, she felt like a fraud. Yes, she had lost all sense of purpose and hope in the last twenty-four hours, but that didn’t mean she needed this.

“It’s already paid for,” Winnie declared, folding the paper and placing it back on the table.

“What?”

“Chezza—erm, Cheryl—prepaid the course for you. All you need to do is choose your dates and pack your bags.”

Ella stared at Winnie blankly, her brain struggling to compute what she’d just said. She shook her head. “Mum’s been relentless ever since Devin got his new job, but I never thought you two would gang up on me like this.”

Winnie sighed. “It’s not like that. Your mum cares about you. She just worries.” When Ella didn’t reply, Winnie continued. “It’s basically a free holiday. See it like that. Three weeks in the Portuguese sun, the sea at your doorstep. Cocktails.” She lifted her eyebrows. “You deserve a holiday, to unwind a little. Then you can come back ready to boss life again.”

“So, you and my mum have just been…waiting…for this to happen?”

Winnie gave her a sad smile. “Don’t be like that. We just want the best for you.”

Ella let out a humourless laugh. “And you really think that would be me, on this mindreading-power island thing?”

“If you come back able to read minds, I think that will be pretty useful.”

Ella took a long pull from her straw, savouring the fruity flavour. She didn’t want to be ungrateful. She just hated taking handouts from her parents; she’d worked hard to establish her own life, without their help or money. Clearly her mother still thought her choices were disappointing, but not everyone could be a superstar doctor like her brother Devin.

However, she supposed the trip was already paid for… and cocktails on the beach sure did sound nice. The last time she went away was years ago, when she went skiing with Maeve.

Don’t think about that lanky grasshopper.

“Thank you,” Ella said, forcing herself to smile. “I really do appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Always.” Winnie placed her hand on hers and squeezed. “Does that mean you’re going to go?”

Ella finished her drink, finally tasting the sting of the tequila resting in the bottom. “Fine, I’ll go. It’s not as if I have anything better to do.”

She really hoped she wasn’t going to regret it.