Chapter Thirty-Seven Ella

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Ella

It was the afternoon of the investor launch and I was packing up the last load of boxes from the office to take to the venue.

I had lived and breathed every aspect of this night a million times over in my head, so much so that I felt confident contentment rest on my shoulders.

I was excited to meet the investors and showcase Stars and Swipes to the American media and influencer scene.

The night would take place at the gorgeous Metropolitan Museum of Art, smack bang in the centre of New York.

It was an exquisite venue, with that famous stone staircase leading up to the museum beyond, which was every fashion girl’s dream.

I had booked a space inside the Met at the Charles Engelhard Court.

It was an open courtyard-style gallery space with statues that rose from the floor.

Tables would be placed between these. I had assembled a dress-up team to transform the glass-roofed space with red velvet curtains and lighting, and to create influencer and media walls for the perfect selfie stations.

A stage would be set up in the courtyard, where Zola, Katy and I would talk to the crowd, introducing the app and everything it offered.

I’d also hired a jazz singer who would weave between the tables, wooing everyone with classic love ballads.

I had it all arranged, from timings to table settings, and every preparation was checked, double-checked and thoroughly rehearsed in my head, leaving absolutely no room for disruption.

I headed to the Met in a yellow cab, and as it pulled up, I noticed a familiar black sports car parked directly in front of us.

I grinned, immediately recognising the registration plate – Jimmy.

I paid the cab and shuffled up to its kerbside door, taking hold of my box of QR cards, which would enable easy Stars and Swipes downloads for the guests.

As I stepped onto the street, I felt a hand on my back.

‘Let me get that for you,’ Jimmy said, taking hold of the box.

‘Did you miss me that much from this morning?’ I laughed, having only left him a few hours ago.

‘I always miss you, Ella. Every day, every minute.’ I felt his lips graze my cheek, making me blush.

I knew if a Scottish guy said that to me, it would give me the immediate ick and my fanny would turn as dry as Mother Teresa’s, but there was just something about Jimmy, something about that confidence and honesty and accent, that was making me fall in love with all that soppy shit.

‘Same.’ I scrunched up my nose at him.

He laughed at my expression and shook his head, then we both turned to take in the grandeur of the Metropolitan Museum of Art before us.

Although I had always wanted to visit the Met as a guest, I’d never imagined I’d be hosting an event inside it.

The iconic red banners hung from the classic limestone building, reflecting the sunlight and making the entire structure look like a palace set in the middle of Fifth Avenue.

‘First big event, and you’ve chosen the Met to host it.’ I could feel Jimmy’s eyes on me, watching me, but I couldn’t pull my gaze away from the gallery. People were gathered outside, having lunch and chatting with friends. I literally felt like I was in an episode of Gossip Girl.

‘Go big or go home, right?’ I said, feeling the autumn breeze blow through my hair.

‘Let’s not talk about you going home,’ Jimmy joked.

I giggled, but a strange, uncomfortable realisation came over me that I’d have to leave this place soon.

That I’d have to leave Jimmy. Glasgow was my life, where I was from, what I knew.

I loved being in New York. I was determined to make this life last for as long as I possibly could, but unlimited credit cards, stunning apartments on the Hudson, and feeling truly happy with the best guy in the world weren’t sustainable – not for me, not for anyone. I knew that, in my heart.

We headed up the vast expanse of steps, and I couldn’t help but want to race to the top in sheer excitement.

Jimmy was casually carrying the box as I soaked in the atmosphere.

I dodged out of the way as people posed and laughed on the legendary stairs, taking photos.

My heart swelled. I loved this place. When we reached the top, I took a few moments to catch my breath and admired the view.

I was overlooking the fast, chaotic city, knowing that tonight hundreds of influential New Yorkers would be here to see what my friends and I had created.

I started to feel a knot of nerves gather inside my stomach.

I hoped and prayed we could pull it off and save Jimmy’s company in the process.

When Jimmy caught up, we headed inside and were greeted by Brooke, who had so efficiently helped me organise the whole evening over the past few weeks. I stepped in behind them, immediately noticing the world turn quiet.

‘Brooke.’ I grinned as I saw her.

‘Ella, it’s wonderful to meet you in person,’ she said.

I noticed the echo in her voice travel across the vast space.

Brooke was an older lady, dressed in a classically cut emerald green suit.

‘The setup is looking awesome already.’ She winked, walking through a grand arch leading us upstairs to the courtyard.

We followed her, Jimmy pointing out different passageways to the exhibits the Met was hosting, from ancient Egyptian artefacts to European oil paintings.

We giggled like teenagers at the nudes, Jimmy pulling faces at the unfortunately sized cocks most of the men were sporting.

I knew that if Picasso were still around to capture Jimmy in paint, he’d need at least three canvases for the giant schlong he was packing.

When we reached the Charles Engelhard Court, I watched the activity flow in and out as designers styled the venue.

I felt my hands shake, hoping they were as good as reviews had promised, but I knew I had really gone out on a limb by booking different suppliers than the ones Britney usually hired.

We stepped through the door and light hit us immediately.

The roof was glass, like a grand conservatory, and small pools of water reflected the light streaming in from above.

The courtyard stood so grand and magical, looking straight out of the set of Bridgerton.

‘Wow.’ Jimmy’s eyes opened wide, taking it all in.

I turned to Brooke and squeezed her arm. ‘This is truly perfect, thank you.’

‘It’s one of my favourite spots in the museum,’ she said with a nod of appreciation.

I watched the team add our own Stars and Swipes touches to the decorations. Charging stations sat beside elegant stone statues of naked women and men, mixing modern and classic. Red velvets were draped, creating a more romantic look, and roses floated in the water.

‘I’ll let you take a walk around.’ Brooke smiled, noticing my jaw still on the floor. ‘And I’ll see you tonight.’

‘I can’t believe I have lived in New York all my life and I’ve never seen this place before,’ Jimmy said softly as Brooke left us.

‘It’s incredible.’ I gulped, feeling pride burn inside. I’d done it. I had done all this alone.

‘Ella,’ Jimmy said. I felt him looking at me. I turned to him and smiled.

‘Yeah?’

‘I think you should know, I’ve fallen in love with you.

’ His voice was soft. It hit something inside of me.

I hadn’t heard those words for so long. Philip and I never said them after months of being together, although I’d felt like I loved him.

But it wasn’t like this. This, right now, felt so simple and uncomplicated. So pure.

‘I . . . I love you too,’ I replied.

He kissed me then, and I felt my eyes fill. Everything about this day was going to be perfect.

*

After making sure everything was going smoothly with the venue preparations, I headed home to the apartment to get ready for the night ahead.

I felt giddy, with the biggest, cheesiest declaration of love building me up, making me feel like fucking Wonder Woman.

Zola and Katy were almost ready, with their makeup and hair done, and now they seemed more interested in necking back champagne and listening to Olivia Dean on full volume as I hopped in the shower.

As the water cascaded over me, I thought about how lucky I was.

How lucky we all were to be here. I thought about how many second thoughts I’d had about coming to New York, when really it had been the best decision I’d ever made.

But something stirred within me, thinking of Philip, hoping he was OK.

He’d hurt me so much by moving on so quickly, I didn’t want him to hurt the same way now.

Philip was kind, and I knew he regretted what he’d done with Erin.

It felt messy, unfinished, maybe, and as much as I tried to oust him from my mind, I found him popping back in unexpectedly.

I got out of the shower, moisturised, then began styling my hair into a sleek French roll.

To keep the elegant vibe going, I went for a bronzed, minimalist makeup look.

I opened my wardrobe and pulled out the sleek silky red dress I’d chosen, and smiled.

This was it. It was absolutely right. I pulled it over my head and admired the backless detail, then slipped into a pointed classic heel – but not too high.

I didn’t fancy heading up the stairs at the Met in my favourite pair of hooker heels and risking a tumble.

When I was dressed, I walked through to the living room and joined Katy and Zola.

Both of them gasped when they saw me, and I giggled, giving them a twirl.

Katy was wearing a sky-blue halterneck dress that fell just above her knees, while Zola had gone for a brown and white cow-print leather boob tube minidress.

‘We’re going to the fucking Met!’ Zola screamed and passed me a glass of champagne.

‘Oh my God, I can’t wait for you to see the place! The venue is the wildest, most stunning thing I’ve ever seen!’ I said, laughing excitedly to my friends. ‘I can see the investors loving it so much they dive even deeper into their pockets!’

Zola scoffed. ‘They better! I could live this lifestyle for a whole lot longer!’

‘So, guys, when I was there . . .’ I began, biting my lip, about to explain the mutual declaration of love between Jimmy and me.

At that exact moment, Katy’s phone pinged.

I watched the smile drain from her face in an instant.

‘Oh, fuck. It’s them.’ She turned the screen, showing:

Unknown: one new message.

We huddled together to read.

Unknown: Hey, girl, miss me? I can’t wait to watch the mess from the Met. It’s not too late to run home to Scotland. Cinderellas who leave early avoid the messy midnight meltdown. Clock is seriously ticking, bitches. X

‘So, they are planning a mess?’ Katy trembled, still trying to understand who this could be.

‘It’s a bluff.’ Zola shook her head. ‘They won’t risk anything, not with the investors there. Whoever this is knows we’re onto them.’

‘Are we?’ I asked. ‘It doesn’t feel like we are, and we even had some peace for a while there. I thought all of this was over.’

Suddenly, the buzzer went off, making us all jump.

I pressed my hand on my heart. ‘It’s fine, the taxi must be here.’ I breathed deeply, trying to steady myself.

‘Do you think they’re going to sabotage the night, Ella?

’ Katy’s voice trembled with her terror at the unknown, and I felt my own fear, too.

But I had worked so hard on this night. I wasn’t letting anyone get anywhere near that stage except the three of us.

I wasn’t risking another art museum fuck-up like the one I’d had back in Scotland.

‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘No one is fucking anything up, babe. This is our night. We’ve earned it.

They’re just trying to scare us.’ I started to wonder about the wording – mess from the Met?

Britney did try to mess up the information about the guests’ allergies.

Was she thinking of a vomiting and diarrhoea mess?

Surely even she wouldn’t be so disgusting as to sabotage us with literal shit.

Zola agreed, necking back the last of her bubbles. ‘All they have are empty threats. Whoever this is has never actually done anything. They’re a keyboard gangster, and we can’t let them get into our heads. Especially not tonight.’

‘Yeah, exactly!’ I pulled back my shoulders, determined to brush off my nerves. ‘Grab your bag, let’s fucking go!’

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