TWENTY-TWO
Elton
Lunch was perfect. Reilly was perfect, in her black jeans and a loose white cotton shirt. I wanted to run my fingers along her collarbones. I didn’t, though. I wanted to prove to her I was all in on this, that it’s not just about sex for me.
I nearly booked a private dining room at the SkyLounge restaurant, and had arranged for the tasting menu; it’s my go-to for dates. But this is Reilly, so I took her to the beachfront cafe near where Neive and I have been walking every day.
We had a table by the window and spent most of our time people-watching.
Reilly had me enthralled as she narrated the lives of those we watched.
She was never mean, negative or judgemental.
It’s obvious her reaction to our first night together came from a place of genuine emotion.
She isn’t usually hot-headed, unlike myself.
The conversation flowed easily. We shared our life experiences with each other. She told me all about meeting her friends and how close she is to her mum and Dorothy. Her loyalty is second to none and she clearly loves her family and friends, a shared value I appreciate.
It’s been a long time since I felt so calm while dating.
Women are mostly after me for several things, mainly my money and position of power.
Dating in the same social circles should keep that sort of behaviour at bay – but if anything, it’s worse.
People rarely have to crawl through hell to get to the top, and those who do are few and far between.
Reilly knows hard work. Reilly knows pain.
Reilly knows how to keep herself in check and continuously strives to be a better person.
I couldn’t help but be drawn in by her. She calms me and makes me want to stop and take a moment …
be present in what is happening. I ignored four work calls; I never ignore work calls.
I even cancelled a meeting because Reilly suggested we have coffee outside, which took another forty-five minutes. I couldn’t drag myself away.
I’m back in my home office, finishing work waiting for Neive to finish with her tutor. Reilly will be round in an hour for the baking lessons, and I want to be done by then so I can join them.
I call Jeeves into the office. “Can you send Reilly flowers to arrive tomorrow? Maybe something big and bold. Purple.” I congratulate myself on a good choice. “Oh, and book us a table. Somewhere fancy.” He doesn’t move. Hands clasped behind his back. Head up, military stance. “What is it, Jeeves?”
“Can I be straight with you?”
“Would you like to tell me a time when you haven’t been?” I rely on him to be honest with me. Even when I don’t want to hear what he has to say.
“Fair point.” His posture relaxes. He still sometimes reacts to me as an authority figure.
It takes him a second to come back and remember I’m his friend first and his boss second.
“Reilly likes a personal touch. Me arranging your flowers and booking your tables is only going to show her how organised and well-staffed you are. Two things she doesn’t care about. ”
Shit, he has a point. “So what do I do?” Get my head out of my bloody arse first?
“Hand deliver flowers. And ask her where she wants to go for dinner. This isn’t rocket science, Elton.”
“Yes. Okay, you’re right. Makes sense.” I am so out of my depth and so desperate to prove myself. “Remember when we were at school? Before all this. When we were two lads mucking about. Playing pranks. Going after girls. All we had was our smiles and our quick wit,” I reminisce.
“We are still full of smiles and quick wit,” Jeeves deadpans.
I laugh but sober when I realise. “I’m not that person anymore. My priorities have changed.”
“Your priorities may have changed. But you don’t have to.
I may now be your Jeeves, but that doesn’t mean I won’t put you in your place when you need me to.
” And with that, he double taps my desk and heads towards the door, acting as if he hasn’t just dropped an uncharacteristic display of philosophy.
“Thanks, Clayton.” He flips me off over his shoulder as he leaves. I love that man. And he hates being called Clayton almost as much as he hates being called Jeeves.
~
During Neive’s lesson today – which I joined on a whim – they’ve been making macarons.
I’m pretty sure I’ve mainly been a hindrance.
I apparently over-mixed the mixture, making it split.
Whatever that means. Neive said she could fix it, but it would be extra sweet.
Honestly, watching her flourish under Reilly’s guidance has been amazing.
She’s obtained knowledge and skills I definitely wouldn’t have been able to teach her, but most of all, confidence.
My strong, happy girl is back. She’s been struggling at school quite a bit so it’s nice to see her proud of herself.
We leave Neive to clean up, and I invite Reilly outside for a glass of wine.
The perfect place to ask her on another date.
The sun has set, and there is a slight chill in the air, so I light the chiminea.
We sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the fresh air and soft sounds of waves against the cliffs below.
Her phone dings with a new message. She huffs and turns it upside down. Someone she is avoiding or someone she is hiding from me? Don’t start, Elton. I have no claim over her. Yet.
“Your mum’s nice,” I tell her. Breaking our comfortable silence.
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t lie. She was rude. I’m sorry for her behaviour.”
“She’s protective of you.”
“Yep. She always has been. Always will be.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. A parent should be protective of their child.
” That was something I would never go back on.
She simply nods and takes another sip of her wine.
The last sliver of sun is setting over the horizon, and lights have started to flicker along the cliff tops as people settle in outside for the evening.
The people of Dorset don’t care how cold it gets at night.
With the view over these cliffs, you make the effort to sit outside.
Taking a blanket out of the wicker basket next to me, I place it over Reilly’s lap to help stop the slight shiver that creeps over her periodically.
“What is it about me that puts your mum off?” I ask, not knowing if I’m going to like the answer.
She tucks her chin, taking a moment to gather her thoughts.
“Mum was let down by a man.” She takes another sip. “My father. He was married, but she didn’t know until she got pregnant and he dropped her like a stone. She’s been careful ever since. And now every man is a threat to our happiness.”
Wow. No wonder her mum doesn’t trust me. And how can Reilly, after what I said to her when I thought she was pregnant?
“Am I a threat to your happiness?” The words come out before I can stop them, but now all I can do is wait for her response.
“Honestly, Elton.” She pauses, fucking pauses. “You’re the biggest threat I’ve come across in a long time?” My heart sinks, not what a man wants to hear.
“Why?” I push forward. I’ve opened this door, the only way through it is forward.
“You could really hurt me. A man like you could take what you want from me and leave me shattered. I would be heartbroken. I’m secure enough in myself to admit it. I like you, and it’s terrifying.”
“I’m terrified as well, Reilly. But we’ll be worth it.” It’s as close to begging as I can get. She sends me a soft smile. She sips her wine as the wind gently blows her curls around her face. I reach out my hand for hers. “Come with me.”
She smiles as she lets me lead her down the steps deeper into the garden. The lawn runs all the way to the edge of the cliffs. One of the reasons I chose this house was the running garden. If you keep walking you’d run right off the end and out into the sea.
If Reilly is going to be here more, I’ll need to set some safety up for Chip. Can’t be losing that little bugger over the side.
I pull her behind me as my steps get faster and her gentle laugh chases me until we come to a stop a stone’s throw away from the edge. The waves crash below, and the night is clear. If I owned a telescope, we could see all the way to Old Harry Rocks from here.
I pull her in front of me so she’s facing out to sea, wrapping my arms around her waist and leaning my head on her shoulder.
“Sometimes I come here to pretend I’m the only person in the world.”
“That would be lonely,” she says, her voice sad at the idea of being alone.
“Or peaceful.” I shrug. She turns to face me and cocks her head.
I take in a deep breath and hold it, just for a beat. She covers my eyes with her hands, and gets so close her breath touches my lips. “Come get me, lonely boy,” she says softly, before gently shoving me to the side and taking off back towards the house.
I give her a five second head start, it’s only polite. She’s fast but my desire for her outruns her playfulness.
As I come up behind her she looks back, her eyes shining, I fake a left and as she veers right I reach round her waist, hoisting her in the air and settling her over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
She playfully smacks my back. “Put me down, you heathen.”
“Never, wench.”
A sharp sting jolts me as I realise she’s pinched me under the arm, hard. I drop her down, bringing my hands up to her face, one gripping the back of her neck. “Playing dirty?”
“Always,” she whispers, pulling me in for a kiss.
Damn, I might be falling for this woman.