Chapter 6A
ELLEN
Sydney, New South Wales, Australia
Ellen'd been hearing Taylor snoring in her room at the other end of the corridor for the past forty-five minutes, but she couldn't get to sleep.
Her eyes were locked on her MacBook, checking out Roxy Powell's MSS website profile.
Ellen was facing another night with no sleep, and no amount of melatonin would fix it.
Ellen couldn't forget all the smiles Roxy had given her throughout the evening. She had this strange feeling that it wasn't a coincidence that life had brought her into her path. Maybe this was the new start Sydney was meant to give her.
But she quickly pushed those thoughts aside. She didn't want to get hurt.
Not again.
Ellen studied Roxy's professional portrait, searching for a subtle detail that might offer a clue. Even after spending hours with her, she still had no idea what Roxy did as a 'Senior Risk Advisor.'
Strangely enough, this made her more appealing, which Ellen detested. She liked things straightforward and clear; anyone confusing or unclear just wasn't her vibe. Roxy was simply in a league of her own.
Whatever, Ellen couldn't help thinking about how they left each other, from the looks in the car to the silence which settled in on its own and the way her hand brushed Roxy's arm when they said goodbye.
She yearned to see Roxy again. It wasn't about finding out what was going on, getting closure, or seeing if she was hiding anything. She wanted to see her so she wouldn't feel as if she missed out on something important.
Although she knew she could text her, she didn't want to be the desperate lesbian who was obsessed with the straight girl she just met.
Ellen needed to find a believable way to cross Roxy's path again, just one more time, to be completely sure. And the sooner the better.
***
"Macquarie Security Services, good morning. My name is Kate. How may I help you today?" a calm voice answered. Australian accent, polite but practised.
Despite her best efforts, Ellen was unable to sleep, and it wasn't for lack of trying. At 4:20 a.m., she decided to cross a line and use her professional position for personal gain. But it was the only way to ensure she would see her again, at least once.
She waited until 9:45 a.m. to make the call. Better than just a text.
"Um. Hi. I'm calling to speak with Roxanne Powell, please."
The air hung for a second. "Sure. May I ask who's calling?"
"Sure, Ellen Caldwell, Executive Director, Australian operations at 'AtMedias.'"
And after a quick pause, "One moment, Ms. Caldwell."
The line clicked into soft hold music. Her heart shouldn't have been pounding. It was a professional call, on paper. "Just calm down, Ellen," she murmured to herself.
Ellen adjusted her position, crossing and uncrossing her legs in a restless loop. Her fingers gripped the edge of the table as she needed to stay calm. She detested how much she yearned for this to hold significance. Worse, she was already aware it did.
Another click followed by her unforgettable voice, "Roxy Powell."
There was something in her tone. It wasn't exactly a surprise, but something warmer, a flicker of something else. She sounded pleased to hear Ellen's voice.
"Hey," Ellen said way too quickly and maybe too casually, "It's Ellen—uh, from the Chamber event last night.
Ellen Caldwell." She squeezed her eyes shut for half a second with only one adjective in mind about herself: niaiseuse (dumbass).
Because obviously Roxy knew who she was. She saw you just yesterday.
Then, with unmistakable ease, Roxy said, "Ellen Caldwell… yeah, that rings a bell." Roxy's charming little laugh broke Ellen. It was so charming. "You should know by now, Ellen—it's hard to forget you."
Oh shit, she was screwed.