Chapter 25 #2
“Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend,” I say. If she means Geoff, I don’t want to get into all of that. I’m just going to leave it at “I don’t have a boyfriend.” It’s the truth.
“I could’ve sworn that handsome young man with the dog dressed like an apple was your boyfriend.”
Oh God. She means Aiden.
I begin shaking my head even before I speak. “No. No. He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Are you sure? I saw the picture of you two on the inn’s social media account. You were wearing a hat, and he bopped your nose. You looked great together.”
Charlotte’s photo shoot. “Oh, that was just for promo. It was nothing.”
Laura crosses her arms over her chest and turns to side-eye me with skepticism practically dripping from her face. “You could’ve fooled me. I’ve never seen a smile so big. I know that smile. It’s the smile of someone in love.”
“Er... excuse me?” Is billionaire Laura Bolt seriously telling me I’m in love with Aiden?
She turns and leans back over the balustrade again. “You know what? I was a multimillionaire by the time I turned thirty-five.”
Okay? Frankly, she can brag all she wants. I’m just glad she stopped asking about Aiden.
“I was a billionaire a few years ago when I turned fifty,” she continues.
I nod. “Impressive,” I say.
“I’m not looking for praise.” She laughs. “I’m telling you this to also tell you that I’d give up every cent I’ve ever made if I could go back in time and make things right with the one who got away.”
I think I’m frozen to the balustrade, because I’m pretty sure Laura Bolt just told me that I have made the wrong decision taking this job.
“Uh, we... we wanted different things,” I say, feeling like a fool. I’m pretty sure Laura doesn’t want to hear the details, but I also feel as if I need to explain myself.
“Oh, my guy and I also wanted different things,” she says. “And not one of them really mattered.”
She looks at her phone again and presses a number. I can hear it dialing. She turns and begins walking away. Should I say, Thank you, have a nice day, I’m sorry you lost the love of your life ? Seriously, what is the etiquette here?
I decide to just smile and nod.
“You said you’d listen to me,” she says in a singsong voice as she leaves.
I am left staring unseeing at the pastoral landscape in front of me, stunned. What just happened? How did Laura Bolt know I was out here thinking about Aiden? Was it that obvious?
Ellie, you idiot, it’s apparently so obvious she could tell by just looking at your picture.
And, oh damn. Because, like a seat belt clicking into place, it all just lights up in my brain, and I realize that the heaviness in my chest isn’t because of the stress of the last two weeks.
It isn’t because I got dumped, fired, ostracized, planned a huge event, and rescued another. It’s because I’m in love .
I’m in love with Aiden and really homesick.
That’s why every single mile that brought me up here felt heavier and longer than the last. That’s why I’m wondering if Argos is still wearing his apple costume like Pumpkin and the PJs. That’s why I can’t breathe when I think about Aiden holding me in his arms while I cried.
I’m in love with him.
And Laura Bolt is right. I’ve made a mistake.
And I need to go make it right.
Expensive heels be damned, I turn and hurry as fast as I can along the cobblestones and down the little stone steps.
I rush into the dining room again where Laura Bolt is talking on the phone.
“I’m sorry,” I yell, completely ignoring that she’s probably on a multimillion-dollar business call.
“I can’t take the job, after all. Thank you so much for the opportunity, though. ”
Laura pulls the phone from her ear before saying, “Tell Aiden I said hi,” and winking at me.
I spend the next fifteen minutes going over the plans with Cady, my assistant.
She’s younger than me but reminds me of me at her age.
Really smart, with it, and going places.
Everything is already set, so she’s prepared to take over.
She’s got this. I’m sure of it. “Text me if you need me,” I tell her. I will not leave her in the lurch.
After I go to my room and toss everything into my suitcase, I go to the front desk to ask about getting a train or a flight home. I want whatever is fastest this time.
Jim, the front desk manager, tells me that Laura has already asked him to have a car pick me up and take me to the nearby airport. My flight is booked. How she did it that fast when she was already in the middle of a phone call is a mystery I may never unravel.
“Ms. Bolt also asked me to give you this.” Jim plucks an envelope from behind the desk and hands it to me.
I open it and my eyes nearly pop from my skull, because inside is a check for an amount of money that is frankly indecent.
There is a small note on top of it. Thanks for fixing everything at the last minute. Best of luck. It’s signed by Laura.
I press it to my chest.
Then one of the bellhops materializes out of nowhere to see to my suitcase, and within minutes I’m inside another big black SUV and heading toward the airport.
I’m going home.