CHAPTER 5
ELLEN
Sydney, New South Wales, Australia
Ellen completely forgot the jet lag. She took advantage of Roxy's absence to build a protective wall around herself. This woman was straight and, more importantly, in a relationship. It would be ridiculous for Ellen to develop anything for her, even the slightest interest.
Roxy seemed so difficult to get through to. Was she the only one feeling the connection? Ellen couldn't help but wonder about her. Dismissing Jamie for the evening seemed like the best bad idea of the night.
Why did she tell her shield she could leave?
The wall she had built after her brutal breakup with Caroline quickly cracked at Roxy's simple words, 'Told you I'd come back.'
It might have been around 11 p.m. when Ellen noticed the regular clientele had replaced the event's guests.
"It's not that I'm bored, Roxy, but I'm exhausted. I think it would be better for me to go to bed."
Roxy looked at her and whispered, "Yes, I understand. That might be the wisest thing to do." It was pretty clear neither of them wanted the evening to come to an end.
As they stepped out of the Baxter, Ellen felt the warmth of the Australian night envelop her, while maintaining her reflexes from the Canadian winter she had just left behind. But here, it wasn't the heat that bothered Ellen the most, but rather the fear of not seeing Roxy again.
Ellen's eyes met hers, then quickly darted away before returning for another look. "Well, tonight's been unexpectedly interesting, to say the least," Ellen said, trying to keep her tone neutral.
Roxy smiled. "Without a doubt." Ellen's eyes welled up, moved by the sincerity in her voice. There was something disarming about the ease between the two women.
Trying not to appear overly interested in Roxy, Ellen said, "I hope we could meet again." But the tone of her voice gave her away, so Ellen looked away just enough to give her an out just in case.
"You'll probably see me again," she replied.
Ellen reached for the phone in Roxy's hand and pointed it at her face to unlock it. Without wasting a second, she called her own phone and handed it back to her. "Now you have no excuse," Ellen said with a laugh, but her heart was beating twice as fast.
Roxy stared at the screen for a little too long. "But I wasn't looking for one," she whispered to Ellen, her voice still shaky with disbelief.
The black sedan slowly approached the entrance to Baxter's before coming to a complete stop in front of Ellen. "That's my ride." An awkward silence ensued before Ellen spoke again. "Want me to take you somewhere?"
Roxy simply let out an "Oh," and Ellen wished she hadn't said anything.
Typical Ellen Caldwell: Being too much.
"I actually left my car at the office. It's just a twenty-minute walk." But Roxy didn't stop there. "You know what, Ellen? Yes, please. I've had a few drinks, and it would be truly irresponsible to drive. I'll come back for it tomorrow."
Ellen's happiness was triggered by that single moment. She opened the door to Roxy and said, "After you, then."
A heavy silence hung over the car. Something was clearly going on between them. Ellen was aware of Roxy's presence, and all she wanted to do was take her motionless hand from the seat and intertwine her fingers with hers.
But she couldn't. Even if Ellen experienced love at first sight, Roxy's feelings seemed limited to friendship from the beginning. Over and over, she told herself, 'She's not yours, Ellen.'
"Ellen?" She turned to Roxy, who was watching her and seemed troubled by whatever was on her mind.
Ellen paused, pondering each word before responding. "Yes? Something wrong?"
She opened her mouth, attempting to speak, but only silence escaped.
"Nothing, forget it," she stated, pushing a smile onto her lips that didn't reach her eyes.
When they arrived in front of Roxy's house, Ellen cautiously reached out her hand and placed her fingers on her forearm, not to pull her closer, but simply to mark the moment and feel her there. A tiny smile appeared on Ellen's face. "Sleep well, Roxy."
"Good night, Ellen." She walked out of the car, but not before turning to give Ellen one last lingering look.
***
But what was that?
When she reluctantly agreed to happy hour, she couldn't have fathomed crossing paths with someone as unique as Roxy. It had only been twenty minutes since Ellen dropped her off, but she still had the feeling she was sitting next to her.
"Come on… there's no way she's straight. It's written all over her," Ellen muttered to herself in French.
"You wanted something, Miss Caldwell?" Henri, her driver, asked, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
"No, sorry. I was talking to myself."
"Okay," he replied, smiling at her. "We're arriving at our destination."
She wanted to sneak into her house and go right into her room unnoticed by Taylor, but she could see lights on from the outside. "Of course, Taylor is waiting for me," she murmured to herself.
Her heels tapped softly on the hardwood floor, the only sound in the room, until Ellen spotted Taylor on the couch, half curled up under a blanket, her legs tangled in a way uniquely hers.
Since interaction was bound to happen, Ellen chose the most effective tactic: diversion.
"Tay... guess who's been your secret girlfriend?"
Taylor didn't even lift her eyes from her screen. "Well, first, good evening to you too... and second, what the heck are you talking about?"
"Since you're interested," Ellen quipped, a broad grin spreading across her face, "the Taylor Caldwell subreddit is buzzing with a new theory claiming you've been secretly dating Miley Cyrus for the last three months."
"Miley? Could be worse, I suppose. I'll be sure to bring it up when I next see her at the studio.
" Then she let out a loud groan of exasperation.
"Seriously, Twinie, we've discussed this so many times.
I can't believe you're still reading that garbage.
You haven't commented on that secret account again, right? "
Ellen rolled her eyes. "What? It's a no-brainer for me when I'm bored."
"You are such a child sometimes." Taylor checked her watch and looked up at her. "You're home late." And Ellen knew exactly the tone and look her sister gave her at that precise moment. "Later than expected." Her eyes narrowed. "Much later."
Ellen slipped off her blazer, hanging it carefully. "Well, it was more interesting than I thought it would be professionally, of course. Look, I'm going to bed. I am exhausted. Night, Tay."
Taylor stood up from the couch, with one eyebrow lifted. "Nice try, Twinie. Spill it. Who's the girl?"
Ellen froze mid-step. "What? There's no… there's no girl," she said nervously.
Taylor gave her the "don't insult my intelligence, Ellen" look. "Ellen Eve Caldwell," she said, slow and dramatic. "We're literally the same person split in two. Don't bullshit me."
Ellen felted, remembering too late being identical twins meant Taylor could crack her emotional code without effort. Taylor examined her twin as if Ellen were speaking a language only the twins could understand.
The translation was obvious: "Someone touched Ellen's heart tonight."
She sighed and dropped her bag by the wall. "Fine, there was a girl. Happy now? And wipe that smirk off your face."
"I knew it," Taylor said, straightening a little, excited now. "Details. Now."
On the r/TaylorCaldwell subreddit, there must have been a hundred fans debating how Taylor spent her Thursday night.
Some imagined her in a fancy LA restaurant, seducing a woman, while some fantasized about being that lucky woman.
Others, a bit less intrusive, hoped she was busy writing another hit song, expressing her pride as a queer woman.
Ellen couldn't help but laugh as she pictured the look on those fans' faces if they knew the truth: Taylor Caldwell, sitting in her twin sister's living room in Sydney, wearing her oldest Montreal Canadiens pyjamas, beaming like a little girl eager for juicy sapphic gossip.
She cherished the rare, unguarded glimpses into her twin's private life, as if they were stolen pages from a journal she wasn't supposed to read but couldn't resist.
"Don't get worked up, there's really not much to say. Only a gorgeous Scottish redhead working as a security consultant or something like that and that's where the story ends—she's straight."
"Mm. Doesn't sound like you're so sure. Okay, next question. What is the big 'but' stuck in your head?"
Ellen stared at her, bothered. "You know that I really hate you, Taylor Caldwell?"
"No, you don't. You know it. I know it. So, either start talking or we'll be here all night, and I'd like to go to bed at some point." She grinned like she had already won, which, annoyingly, she always did.
Ellen let her head tilt back with a sigh, dragging her hands down her face as if it might hide how much she had already given in.
But the corners of Ellen's mouth betrayed her.
"You know, my gaydar is always on point.
Except this time... we just... connected, I guess.
For a minute. Or maybe twenty minutes. God, maybe the whole time there. "
"Okay, I'll need a visual." Taylor leaned toward her laptop. "What's her name?"
"Roxanne Powell, but everyone calls her Roxy."
Taylor typed furiously in less than ten seconds. "Got something. 'Macquarie Security Services'… let's see… okay… Our Team section." She clicked and scrolled. "Oh." A smirk broke out. "There. That's her?"
Ellen leaned in and, yes, it was her. Roxy.
Just as she remembered: her warm, coppery-red hair, falling loosely over her shoulders, yet swept back enough to highlight the line of her neck and the gentle curve of her jaw.
In the photo, she wore a black blazer over a white blouse, two pieces chosen with care so as not to detract from her features. Magnificent.
She looked very professional in the photo, without it being the equivalent of a passport photo: no smile, and a composed, even reserved expression.
Her eyes fascinated Ellen: pale green, clear and steady, they seemed to look straight at her through the lens, as if she were hunting her prey. Once you'd seen her, you couldn't look away. And Ellen was undoubtedly that prey.
"Shit, Twinie! She's hot," Taylor murmured, still smirking. Her tone was a pure high school teenager.
"Yeah. I know."
Ellen had nothing more to add. She just stared at the screen, trying to reconcile the corporate portrait with the woman who had ordered a Scotch at the bar and made her laugh harder than she had in months.
Taylor nudged her with her foot. "You are in a lot of trouble, Twinie."
Ellen exhaled a quiet, steady breath. "Again, I know, Tay," she said. Then, softer this time, almost hesitant, she added, "Could we just keep this between us for now?"
Taylor looked at her for a long second—not teasing or smug anymore, just steady. She tilted her head, studying Ellen as if she remembered that, no matter how grown-up they got, Ellen would always be her big sister, even if it was only by five minutes, and she would always show up for Ellen.
She raised her little finger in the air in Ellen's direction and said, "Of course. Twin privilege." To which Ellen responded by taking her little one and hooking it to her sister's.