Chapter Thirty-Two Ella
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ella
After a morning of serious shagging, Jimmy eventually left to attend a meeting with his investors.
I decided to take a walk along the Hudson with my laptop under my arm, heading to a local coffee shop to get some work done.
We had been in New York for just over a month now, and the weather had shifted from late summer into fall, which was always my favourite time of year, with fashion at its peak.
Today I opted for a long trench coat, leggings, and a long-sleeved plain top, paired with my UGG Mini Classics.
Since pushing Britney as far away from the PR side of Stars and Swipes as possible, I had been handling the launch events on my own, spending most of my time chasing or enquiring about vendors.
As I entered the bustling open-plan coffee shop, I set down my laptop, then ordered a latte at the counter, constantly checking that my computer hadn’t been lifted before returning to the table with my drink.
Ahead of me was a morning of back-and-forth emails with companies about potential set-ups for the investor party.
I needed it to be perfect – to match that classy, sophisticated New York vibe I was going for.
Back in Glasgow, I had endless connections for events of every kind, but over here, I knew no one.
I wasn’t going to ask Britney for any of her contacts and risk possible sabotage from that fucking crank, so I checked every review on each retailer, making sure they were not only reliable and available, but also the best in the city.
It was just past noon when a text from Zola popped up in the group chat on my laptop. I lifted my phone to read along.
Zola: I hacked Britney’s emails, nothing incriminating.
Katy: Nothing? What’s she emailing about?
Ella: That’s annoying!
Katy: Where are you, Ella? Just stopped by the office x
Ella: Came to the wee coffee shop beside the apartment to work on the events x
Zola: Well, while you’re doing Britney’s job, she’s spent the morning sending Fee details of new office furniture she wants x
I shook my head as I scrolled through the chat, feeling exasperated that we were getting no closer to the truth.
Ella: Hopefully she won’t have an office at all when we get to the bottom of this shit x
Katy: Or a home!!
I felt my face drop. Wow, that was a bit harsh, Katy. But I suppose Britney was involved in blackmailing the life out of the poor girl. Maybe it was deserved, just a little.
‘I’ll have a black coffee, please. Thank you.’
I glanced up as I heard a soft Scottish accent cut through the crowd and smiled at its familiarity.
I had gotten so used to hearing New Yorkers speak in that rat-a-tat self-assured way of theirs; it felt homey and welcoming to catch a glimmer of Scotland.
I wondered when I’d be heading back home and what the weather would be like when I got there.
God, I missed my own bed. My own well-ordered space away from Zola and Katy and their constant mess.
‘Ella?’ the Scottish accent called out, and I sat up, peering through the crowd. It did sound very familiar.
‘No way! Ella, is that you?’ the voice said again.
I stood up, my eyes scanning the lunchtime rush queue, then landing on a tall, jaw-droppingly handsome man.
It was him – it was Philip.
My face fell, my heart dropped and my legs gave way, causing me to drop back down heavily onto the padded seat beneath me with a thud. What the fuck?
‘Wow! I thought that was you!’
He sounded excited, like the last time he’d seen me he hadn’t dumped me or left me with a two-hundred-quid bill for steak and champagne. Before I knew it, he was rushing over to me, his coffee sloshing over the rim of his mug.
‘How are you?’ He put his drink down on my table and held his arms out for a hug.
I remained rigid, completely gobsmacked.
Still, his smart navy jacket clung to me as he bent down.
I could smell him; that deep, musky, fanny-tingling aftershave that I loved so much, now it was making my stomach turn.
‘I’m fine . . . yeah, fine. I’m surprised to see you,’ I admitted, still pulsing with shock.
‘Just flew in. A few meetings. How’s it been?’ He slid into the booth beside me like we were old friends and this was a beautiful impromptu encounter. Like nothing was wrong. Like we hadn’t not long split up and never spoken since.
‘Yeah . . . erm . . . yeah . . . it’s going well,’ I stammered.
He sipped his coffee, then said, ‘I considered calling, but . . .’
‘But you were busy.’ I managed a somewhat sarcastic laugh through my pounding heart. ‘Saw it in the papers.’
Philip seemed slightly uncomfortable at that, gently tugging his shirt at the collar for more room. ‘And you’ve been a busy girl, I heard.’ He raised a brow.
Fuck. I could feel my pulse soar, my Apple watch vibrating – Warning: heart rate excessively high. I pulled at my top, trying to disguise my impending heart attack. How the fuck does he know what I’ve been up to?
‘Yeah, big shot. Actually, landing that deal with Jimmy Link? Impressive work, Ella!’ He took another sip of his coffee and looked up towards me.
His face, his eyes, his lips – everything was so perfect.
I’d built him up in my head to be a complete wanker, yet somehow, right now, he seemed as charming and attractive as ever. ‘What’s he like then?’ Philip asked.
‘Who?’ I asked, still reeling from shock.
‘Jimmy!’ he said. ‘Who else? And how are the girls settling in?’ He had so many questions that my head felt like it was on the waltzers.
Suddenly, my phone began ringing and I jumped up. ‘Oh, sorry, this is a vendor . . . I . . . I have to take it. You know how it is, duty calls.’
I felt a punch in the gut using his catchphrase – the one with which he’d continuously disrupt our date nights.
I pointed towards the coffee shop’s door and headed outside, legs trembling, hands sweating, walking out of sight of the large glass windows.
I felt my body arch over, hoping to feel better, but nausea took over me.
What the fuck was happening? Why was he acting like nothing had happened?
When my phone stopped ringing, I picked it back up and called Zola.
‘Hey, you OK? We’re just at lunch,’ she replied casually. Meanwhile, I felt like my arsehole had been ripped out, run over by a yellow cab, then volleyed straight into the Hudson.
‘Zola,’ I hissed, ‘Philip is here!’ I fought to stay calm as people passed me in the street. ‘He’s here in the fucking coffee shop!’
‘What? What are you on about, girl?’ she replied, and I heard how there was now a combination of awkward laughter and panic echoing through her voice.
I repeated, ‘I am at a fuckin’ coffee shop, and Philip fuckin’ Khan has just walked in and sat beside me!’
I heard a huge gasp, then silence.
‘Zola!’ I snapped, panic running rampant through me. ‘Say something!’ I wanted to cry. I could feel my face scrunch up to an even more unflattering, distorted angle than Kim Kardashian’s when she breaks down in tears.
‘Shut the fuck up!’ she eventually mustered.
‘What do I do? He’s acting like we’re pals,’ I said, running my hands through my hair, which was now damp with sweat.
‘OK, settle, petal. Why is he in New York? For you?’ I could hear a crunch as she went back to her lunch.
‘Are you seriously eating right now?’ I snapped.
‘Ella, focus.’ I heard her swallow. ‘Why is that cunt here?’
‘Meetings. He said meetings,’ I replied, trying hard to remember the twisted chain of events from two minutes earlier.
‘OK, well fuck him, then. He’s moved on, so have you. Don’t overthink this. Play it cool, wish him well with the meetings, finish your coffee and leave.’
She was right. This didn’t need to be complicated. I had moved on – Jimmy made me happy and I wanted to see where it could go with him. I owed Philip nothing. My back straightened. I can do this.
‘Yeah?’ Zola continued.
‘Yeah. I can do that,’ I said, believing it even as I was trying to sound more confident.
‘Yes, you can. Now go back in, make an excuse to leave and phone me back when you can,’ she said. ‘Got it?’
‘Uh-huh. Got it.’ I hung up and closed my eyes, feeling the cool autumn breeze hit my face.
I steadied myself, reminded myself that I could be assertive and leave. I was allowed to do that. Re-entering the coffee shop, I saw Philip scanning my notes on the laptop. As he looked up and grinned, I walked back to the table and carefully resumed my seat beside him.
Philip pointed to my screen. ‘I see you’re still doing PR work for your campaign?’
I see you’re still a nosy bastard, I wanted to reply, but instead I sipped my coffee with a dignified nod, angling the laptop away from him.
‘And you’ve changed it up quite a bit from The Dicktionary Club.
’ He glanced down at the floor, looking sombre.
‘Perhaps I reacted too hastily to you coming here. I thought you’d be out here, slating men and getting on your high horse about all the horrible things they do, but this seems different. It’s . . . it’s . . .’
‘It’s fair,’ I said quickly. And none of your business, I wanted to add.
‘Wonderful,’ he said. ‘The app idea is wonderful, Ella. Congratulations.’ A soft, contented look washed over his face and I smiled nervously. I sipped more of my coffee and noticed his eyes were still fixed on me.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘Do you know, I wondered if I’d bump into you over here and what I’d feel, but it feels like us still, it feels like how we were before.’ He leaned his head against the back of the cream leather booth and sighed. ‘I was wrong to try to hold you back from coming to the States.’
‘Yeah, you were. I had to do this for me,’ I said, swallowing. ‘The girls needed it too.’
I felt his hand squeeze my leg. My body froze.
What the fuck? Is he getting the idea that I’m still keen on him?
This felt wrong. Did he think one squeeze of my leg and a half-arsed apology was going to get my drawers off?
I shimmied up slightly, freeing my leg. He was the problem, and even if I got over him taking the huff about New York, I was hardly going to see past the fact that he was shagging hot young influencers the minute I was out of his bed.
I could feel my blood begin to simmer. Who the fuck does this cunt think he is?
‘I saw that you’ve moved on,’ I said, managing to remain calm. ‘And I’m happy for you, genuinely. I suppose it was hard to watch it play out in the media like that, but at the same time, it made me realise how wrong we were together.’
Philip leaned both elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands.
‘No. Ella . . . I’m so sorry that—’
‘No need to apologise. God, I’m over it.’ I laughed softly.
He turned to me, his eyes glossy with tears. I had never seen this much emotion come out of him before. ‘You do deserve an apology, Ella. I was messed up. My ego was hurting that you just walked away when I’d asked you not to.’
I felt my face twist. ‘I was working, Philip.’
His hands shot into fists. ‘For God knows how long!’ His voice raised, then he let out a tired sigh, realising he had almost lost it.
‘Look, I acted out. Erin and I are over; we never really began. I was handling your rejection poorly, instead of handling it like a man. I invited in a young, fame-loving, money-grabbing woman who idolised me. She was an ego boost. Nothing more. And, I suppose, deep down, at the time I wanted you to see it. I wanted you to hurt. I had her out in the press, attending idiotic events that I didn’t even want to go to, wondering if you’d see us together and reach out. ’
‘Right . . .’ I managed, totally taken aback, feeling like I had no more words. I felt hurt ache in my stomach, even as he said her name. Pain stabbed me in the chest. He did this for a reaction from me? What kind of schoolboy bullshit was he spinning?
‘I need someone straightforward, supportive,’ he said, more animated. ‘You’re the real deal, Ella.’
‘I need that too, Philip. And you didn’t give me those things.
You took over.’ My voice was low. Admitting it out loud made me feel ashamed of myself and how I’d let it happen.
‘You wanted me to follow your schedules, fit into your life, but you shut me off as soon as you disagreed about me coming to New York.’
He rubbed his eyes and spoke quietly. ‘I can if you . . .’
‘I’ve met someone else,’ I cut over him. ‘I’m happy with where it’s going and—’
‘Pardon? Ella?’ He shook his head like I’d just stunned him with a frying pan. ‘Someone from New York?’ he questioned, seeming much more tense all of a sudden.
‘Yeah. He’s kind, supportive and—’
‘And from New York?’ Philip laughed, holding out his hands as if it was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard. I didn’t know if I felt sorry for him or wanted to jab him straight in the jaw.
‘I’m not doing this with you.’ I stood up. ‘I appreciate the apology. I hope your meetings go well and I’ll maybe see you around.’
‘Ella, sit down,’ he moaned. ‘Come on, I haven’t seen you for a month!’
I continued to squeeze around the table, the coffee cups swaying back and forth.
‘And whose fucking fault is that?’ I could feel the anger finally seething out of me.
‘I waited. I waited in that restaurant, and you never came back!’ My voice was getting louder.
I could feel my entire body tremble. ‘I waited in the house, making sure my fucking TV volume was below ten just in case you rang the buzzer and I missed it. Do you know how pathetic that made me feel?’ I let out a gasp of air, trying to push back the wave of emotion and steady myself.
‘Then you fuck around with some new piece, getting papped all about town, only to show up here and question me about my new relationship that has just fucking started?’ I sighed.
I had no energy left. I picked up my laptop and placed it under my arm.
‘Let me move on, let me be happy. Please.’ I inhaled a long breath, determined not to cry over this fuckboy man again.
‘OK.’ He looked as if I’d just shot him. Completely stunned. ‘If you change your mind, I’m here for the next few weeks.’ His eyes blurred, like he was holding back just as much as I was.
‘I won’t.’ I managed a smile, grabbing hold of my trench coat and snatching up my bag.
I had taken a few more steps when I heard him call out, ‘Pilates!’
I felt my eyes shut at our private nickname, the one I’d made up the day I met him. There were so many good memories; I hated that he had to ruin them in the end. Eventually, I turned back.
‘Who’s the guy?’ he asked. ‘Do I know him?’
I nodded. ‘Yeah, it’s Jimmy Link,’ I said and turned out onto the street.