Chapter 8 Elle #2
So after a short walk, we’re at her vanity where I spend the next moments styling Clo’s hair to curled perfection, the way she prefers.
All the while, she tells me about her old best friends, Jade and Mimi, and their adventures together as old friends.
How they lost their closeness when life got too busy for all of them.
And how ecstatic she is that, after over two decades, Mimi’s back in her life through Kaye.
She tells me all about how happy she is that I’m in her life because I remind her so much of Jade, who sends her paintings from time to time.
That makes me happy too. Though, I avoid looking at myself through the vanity mirror while I stare at Clo’s reflection, beaming at me, with her perfectly coiled curls and perfectly crafted smile.
***
The car is a glittery red sports car, exactly the kind of car I’d expect Stan to drive. The interior smells like leather and faintly of smoke.
Stan slides into the driver’s seat. I reach for the back door, instinctively going for the seat behind him, but Clo’s voice cuts through the warm morning air. “Elle, dear, sit up front with Stanley.”
I freeze, fingers brushing the handle. Clo’s already stepping into the backseat. Glancing toward Stan, I see him already watching me, smirking, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.
“Wouldn’t want to make her mad,” he says, amused.
So I slip into the front seat beside him. My tights brush against the console as I buckle in, smoothing the fabric down with careful hands.
Clo hums her approval from behind us. “Much better.”
The engine hums to life. Stan drives us out of the estate, the winding road weaving through sun-dappled trees. The windows are down just enough to let in the warm breeze, fresh and floral.
Clo speaks from the back, about vineyards, expansions, and a grand unveiling in autumn. One she’s been planning for a long time. Planning, huh…?
And then it hits me. She planned this. She wanted me beside Stan on purpose. My stomach knots. Stan must sense it too, because he shoots me a look like we’re in on a joke neither of us agreed to. But, where I feel tension blooming under my ribs, he simply leans back, clearly going along with it.
“You comfy?” Stan asks.
I nod, shuffling in my seat. “Yeah. Your car’s nice.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “You don’t have to fake being impressed, Elle. We both know I’m the main attraction here.”
My lips twitch into a reluctant smile. “Right, of course.”
From the back, Clo sighs softly, sounding pleased. “You two get along so well.”
Stan grins. “Like a dream.”
Maybe it is a strange, sun-warmed dream, too vivid to be real. If it is, when do I wake up?
“Elle,” Stan says. “I can’t stop thinking about the way you held onto me.”
I freeze. My hands curl in my lap, fingers tightening. Behind us, Clo says nothing. “It was fast,” I manage, trying to sound indifferent. “You told me to hold on.”
Stan hums. “I know. But I didn’t think you’d hold on like that.”
I glance at him, taken aback.
His grin is wicked. “Like you didn’t want to let go.”
A strangled sound escapes me. “You’re imagining things.”
“Oh, Elle,” he drawls, handling the gear shift with maddening ease. “I could feel every little squeeze.”
I can’t breathe. My whole body burns. Clo doesn’t speak. I try to redirect. “Shouldn’t you focus on driving?”
“Multitasking, babe,” Stan says, undeterred. “Besides, I was thinking next time I take you for a ride, I wanna see just how much tighter you can hold on.”
I choke on a gasp.
“What?” he says innocently. “I’m just saying there are better uses for that grip of yours—”
“Stan,” I squeak out.
He laughs, unbothered. Clo’s still silent, on her phone, seeming unfazed. That makes it worse somehow.
I shrink into my seat, face burning. “You’re teasing me…on purpose.”
“You say that now,” he murmurs, “but I know you like it.”
I press my lips together, refusing to look at him, even if my pulse is betraying me.
I focus on the coastline slipping past, on the glint of water in the distance, on anything but the way Stan keeps glancing at me like he’s already planning his next move.
“Elle,” he says, dragging out my name. “Pink suits you.”
“Stop that,” I mutter, turning toward the window.
“Stop what?”
“Saying things like that.”
“You don’t like compliments?”
“Not the way you’re saying them.”
Behind us, Clo doesn’t say anything, tapping on her phone instead. Stan sighs dramatically. “Now, you’re just hurting my feelings.”
I glare at him, half-hearted at best.
“That’s okay,” he says, shifting gears like he’s shifting the atmosphere. “You’ll like it when I say other things.”
My brows pull together.
His grin tilts into a smirk. “Like how you feel against me.”
The air in the car thickens, the words lingering like heat. He’s pushing me on purpose, watching what I’ll do, and waiting to see how far I’ll let him get away with it.
I sit straighter, resisting the urge to fidget. If he wants a reaction, he’s not getting the one he expects.
I tilt my head toward him, meeting his gaze with a composure I don’t quite feel. “And what about you?”
Stan raises a brow, clearly surprised I’ve bit back. “What about me?”
I trail my fingers along the seam of my top. “Are you sure you weren’t the one enjoying it a little too much?”
His fingers still for a second. Then that grin slides back into place. “Oh, Elle,” he says. “Now you’re getting it.”
A breath escapes me, soft and shaky. Clo sighs lightly from the backseat. It’s a sound that shouldn’t make the hair on my arms rise, but it does. She speaks as if she’s brushing dust off. “I think you two are adorable together.” Her words sound offhanded, but they land heavy.
Stan chuckles. “Hear that, Elle? We’re adorable.”
I glance back at her, searching her expression for something I can’t name. But her face isn’t very telling, only gentle, as if she’s already seen the future, and this is the expected path to it. “You balance each other well,” she says. “Don’t you think?”
The air thickens with something unspoken, something I’m not sure I agreed to. I look at Stan. He’s already smiling like he’s won this game I wasn’t aware we were playing.
I hold his gaze. “I guess we do.”
His smile widens. “Couldn’t agree with ya more.”
I look ahead as the coastal highway stretches out in a golden blur. The air inside the car is…charged now, laced into every glance and word. “You two are perfect,” Clo says.
Her voice cuts through, sounding absolute.
In my mind, her words take the shape of a web, all connected.
Clo’s praise wraps around me, warm and settling.
She’s pleased, and that means I’m doing well.
I breathe in deeply, my pulse steady but heavy, thick with something I can’t name.
I don’t look at her, but I feel it. Clo’s approval wraps around me like a silken embrace I want to stay in.
Stan chuckles beside me. “Hear that, babe? You and me—perfect.”
I should brush it off like he’s just being silly again. But I don’t. Instead, I simply smile.
***
We glide down the winding road, the world outside bleeding into a blur of cliffs and high noon sunlight.
Waves crash far below, the ocean endless, glowing where the sky kisses the horizon.
Then the venue appears, like a magical setting imagined.
Perched high above the ocean, its white stone facade is softened by ivy that clings, winding toward balcony arches.
The terrace opens to a sweeping view of water and sky, the linen-draped tables set neatly, glass catching the light like crystal tears.
The moment I step out of the car, the wind lifts the edge of my shirt. Beside me, Stan stretches leisurely as he takes in the view before turning to me.
“You look like you just walked into a fairytale,” he says, a smirk tugging at his lips.
He offers his arm, and I take it without thinking. Ahead of us, Clo walks forward, already in conversation with the venue owner. Her voice is all grace and persuasion, weaving words about exclusivity and plans.
I should be listening, but Stan leans closer. “Careful, Elle,” he whispers. “I might get used to you holding onto me like this.”
I scoff softly, but the way his fingers trace lazy circles against my knuckles makes my heart race.
“You don’t seem to mind,” he adds.
I don’t. His presence makes me lose track of my thoughts.
He leans down slightly, his breath tickling my ear. “You’re blushing again.”
I stiffen. “Am I…?”
“You are,” he whispers, laughing.
I grip tighter, as if that could steady my racing heart.
“God, Elle.” His voice is rougher now.
I can’t respond. He’s got me too flustered.
Clo keeps talking, but then, for a brief moment, she glances over her shoulder.
Her eyes settle on us, on the space between Stan and me that barely exists.
Then she smiles, graceful and approving.
Warmth floods my chest, heavier this time.
I shouldn’t feel this ripple of pride blooming just because she’s pleased, but I do.
The venue owner guides us deeper into the space. Stan and I follow, still arm in arm. The halls are wide, glowing with afternoon light. We’re shown table arrangements, a flourish of draped fabric, and every floral centerpiece. It all seems carefully curated, romantic, and purposeful.
That’s when I realize that this isn’t simply some beautiful place.
It’s a wedding venue. I blink, slowing slightly.
I glance at Stan beside me, noticing how naturally he moves with me, how in-sync our strides are despite the size of him.
I don’t need to look in a mirror to know what we must look like.
Stan leans in. “You realize what this place is for, don’t you?”
I swallow, but before I can answer, the venue owner’s voice slides in. “Yes, the entire design is meant to enhance intimacy. From the golden hour in the grand hall to the lantern path at dusk, it’s meant to make love feel inevitable.”