Chapter 30 #2
I wish he’d tell her about Heath. I wish I could tell her about Heath. I wish we could assure her that these things happen and your heart has control over your head.
“It gets worse,” she says.
“Worse? Jesus, just take it from the top, will you?” Josh says, the concern for Tiff etched onto his face amidst the rage. “Fucking hell.”
Tiff takes it from the top. The very top. And whoa, what a story.
I listen, transfixed, my stomach lurching hardcore when her tale touches close to our own. I recognise her terror about The Agency. I recognise her heartbreak at loving someone forbidden.
Someone beautiful, inside as well as out.
Josh’s expression changes as Tiff’s story continues. He pulls her into him as she cries.
He quizzes her. She answers him. And he’s scared for her. He’s really scared for her.
I am, too.
I am well aware of how serious things get when it comes to the founders. We sure have it bad with such a high profile client on the go, but as for Tiff… it doesn’t bear thinking about.
“They’ve cancelled you, then?” Josh asks her, and I could throw up on her behalf.
She dashes for the bag she dropped in the hallway and scrabbles for her phone. She’s back on the sofa when she tries to call up the app, but it doesn’t show for her. Incognito mode or not, it doesn’t appear.
Holy fucking shit.
Josh calls up the app on his phone and she tries her login details, but no. Profile not recognised.
I feel such empathy for her panic. I recall exactly how I felt when I thought I was in her position, barred from my career. I search for her Creamgirl profile page myself, but there is no sign of it, and all of her forum posts have disappeared. Every single one.
There’s no doubting it now. She’s living the nightmare I thought I would be all those months ago.
She’s been kicked out of the Agency for real.
My heart bleeds for her. My soul cries for her. My face must mirror hers at the thought her career has been dropped into a void of no return.
Tiff screams and rocks and loses her fucking mind, and I sit mute as Josh soothes her, but soothing won’t help.
She rushes through to the bathroom and hurls. I hear her retching as Josh leaves to join her. I tiptoe through after them, not wanting to intrude, but determined to try and support her as best I can. It could have been me. Fucking hell, it could have been me.
Hell, with the stuff going on with Heath, it could have been us.
“Calm down, Tiff,” Josh says, rubbing her back, but she’s past that. She drops down in the foetal position, trying to breathe.
“Maybe I can do something to help?” I say. “Drop a message to Orla, or…”
My voice trails off, because if Reuben is a founder… that’s a whole other league.
“Keep out of it, Ells,” she tells me. “It’ll only cause shit for you, too.”
“You’re staying here,” Josh tells her as he helps her to her feet. “We’ll take care of you, Tiff. We’ll go to your place and pack a case and set you up in the guest room.”
I nod. “Yeah, stay here. With us.”
“Come on,” Josh says. “Let’s go.”
She’s slinging her bag over her shoulder when her phone sounds out with a message.
“I can’t face it,” she says, and hands her phone to Josh. “Can you look, please? I’m too scared.”
I hold my breath, praying it’s not from Orla confirming Tiff has been ditched for all time. That’s the last thing I’d wish for her, and I thank the heavens that my outburst last night didn’t come with a huge punishment. A reprimand that could have cost me the same.
“Sure, I’ll look,” Josh says.
Josh’s eyes are like saucers when he checks out her message.
“It’s not Orla,” Josh says, and gives her back her phone. “It’s Reuben.”
My heart thumps. It races. It pounds.
Because if she loves her client the way we love Heath, the outcome doesn’t bear thinking of.
I get dressed, quickly. I run a brush through my hair with trembling fingers, trying to prep myself for any turbulence that may be about to unfold.
It’s not long later that we’re standing in the doorway of our Belgravia tower with our best friend, still dressed up in her elf outfit with tear-stained cheeks. We approach the waiting car along with her, and Josh is standing square and tall. Vicious with the need to protect her.
“I’ll let you know when I’m D&S okay?” Tiff says to Josh as we get closer. “I know you love me, and want to protect me, and want to punch him in the face or whatever, and I’d do the same if I was you.”
“Then why the hell are you leaving?!” Josh shrugs, clearly exasperated, but I take his arm, trying to calm him down.
Tiff’s expression changes to one of strength in the face of terror.
“Because YOU would do the same as ME if the roles were reversed. I wouldn’t be able to stop you from going, either!” she says.
She’s spot on. We would. Both of us.
Both me and Josh would do anything for Heath if it really came to it, and I can see that now.
Tiff’s situation has only emphasised the obvious. Normal comes before anything. Our new road is the only one ahead. And I don’t regret blurting things out to Orla. Not anymore. Any repercussions would have been worth it for the sake of being a trio.
If Josh wasn’t so wound up, trying to protect his best friend from misery, he would see it, too.
The man that gets out of the driver’s seat has a different edge to him now that I know he’s a founder, but he’s still Santa to me. The generous guy at the mall.
“Ella,” he says, and tips his head. I smile at him, wondering if I should do a curtsy, since he is one of the leaders of the whole entire Agency. His status means fuck all to Josh, though. His fierce expression gives no heed to the power of the man before him.
“Why the fuck did you get her caught up in this shit?” he asks him. “Now look at her.”
He gestures to poor Tiffany, whose tears are flowing fresh at the sight of him.
I’m oblivious to the conversation that follows. I’m still transfixed by the realisation that this man holds more influence than I could imagine, and Tiff is caught up in a web far bigger than I could ever fix.
Reuben isn’t Heath.
Heath isn’t a founder.
We sure landed on our feet with that one.
Josh is still engaged in a standoff, founder or not. I pull myself together enough to ease my way in and pull him away. I take his hand and urge him from the scene, encouraging him, because this is not our business.
It’s Tiff and Reuben’s to sort out, and their road to find is their own. Just as we have to find ours.
I offer Santa a wave goodbye, listening to Josh’s curses all the way back to our apartment. His anger eases to sadness as his rational brain takes back hold, and I watch him settle down, letting him find himself.
And waiting for him to clock the parallels in our situations.
It doesn’t take him long.
One decent coffee from the coffee machine, and he’s sitting on a breakfast stool, staring at the mug.
“That’s love for her, even if it fucks her up.”
“I know,” I say. “And there is no standing in the way of that for her. No matter what you think of it. What will be for her has to be for her.”
Josh manages a smile.
“You sound like me.”
I laugh. “Maybe I’m learning.”
“No,” he says. “Maybe it’s me who has to learn here, because it puts things into perspective, doesn’t it? No matter the shitstorm, I’d have been off after Heath with my hand in yours, and nobody on this planet could stop me. Not if it was all or nothing at stake.”
“Same,” I reply. “I felt it, too. I realised it, too.”
We stare at each other in silence, and the tension in the air builds, our emotions mashing together.
“I’m sorry for my anger at you, baby. I’m glad you spoke to Orla,” Josh says, finally. “It was worth the risk, Ells, you made the right call.”
I nod. “Thanks. Yeah, I think so, too. Because the barriers need to come down, for all three of us. Whether they’re saving us from danger or not.”
“I agree.”
I take a sip of my coffee, my heart still racing for Tiff.
“What do we do now?” I ask Josh. “I mean, Orla knows about our client. She isn’t an idiot. It was obvious what I was talking about, even though I didn’t want to admit it.”
“What we do is ask Heath where his road really lies,” Josh replies. “It’s time to agree on the destination. Drifting in the world of normal can get fucked. We’re already way too deep for that.”
I picture our calendar of mutual bookings, all lined up with Heath’s. Too structured. Too stagnant. Too restrained.
Josh pulls out his phone and calls up the app. He takes the earliest booking and suggests a calendar shift.
“What day are you choosing?” I ask him. “I know Heath is busy over the holidays.”
“He’s busy for most of the holidays,” Josh replies. “But I think he’ll know the meaning of this one. It says a lot.”
My eyes widen as he shows me the suggestion. I get a wave of hope at the very prospect.
Please.
Please, please, God, I hope Heath accepts it.
It only takes thirty seconds before a ping sounds back through.
Josh is grinning bright when he turns his screen to face me.
Heath has accepted.
Holy fuck, screw the coffee. I put it on the counter and rush over to Josh, leaping up to straddle him on the breakfast stool.
It was a bold move and it paid off.
We’ll be seeing our beautiful, caring, incredible, iconic, AMAZING lover… on Christmas day!