Chapter 22
HOLDEN
The driver slowed to a stop at the curb, glancing at the taco truck across the street like it might be a trap. Then he twisted to look at me. “Uh, Mr. Langton. Are you sure this is the right place?”
I couldn’t really blame him for the uncertainty. This neighborhood wasn’t bad. It just definitely was not the glass-and-marble stretch of Midtown I’d just left.
I wasn’t sure I had ever directed him to someplace like this, an area where the streetlights flickered and weeds grew through cracks in the sidewalk.
Just down the block, a guy was selling knockoff sneakers out of his trunk and music drifted from somewhere, though there was no telling where it was coming from.
“I’m sure,” I said, already reaching for the door handle.
Ellora was standing on the sidewalk, waiting for me, bathed in the warm glow of the string lights that hung around the taco truck. As soon as I saw her, everything else faded into static.
She was in jeans and a long, cozy-looking sweater, and her hair caught the light when she turned her head. Somehow, she looked a thousand times more beautiful like this than she had in that designer dress at the wedding.
My driver snapped me out of it, still looking doubtful when he spoke again. “Would you like me to wait here, sir?”
I glanced back at Ellora. She’d spotted the car now and she was smiling in a way that made my stomach turn over like a teenager’s. I buttoned up my jacket. “No, I’ll be fine. You can head home.”
“Yes, sir.”
Opening the door, I stepped out of the car and inhaled a deep breath of air scented with grilled meat, cilantro, and lime. Ellora waved and I crossed the street to her, dodging a delivery scooter and a cloud of sizzling smoke from the grill.
“Fancy seeing you in my part of town,” she said when I was halfway across the street, her eyes twinkling as they held mine.
“Your part. My part. It doesn’t matter. I go wherever the tacos are.” I pulled her straight into my arms when I reached her and the world tilted a little. “On the other hand, fuck the tacos. I’m hungry for you.”
I’d murmured the words against her ear and she laughed in response, pulling back to glance up at me but not pushing me away. “You’re supposed to say something about how beautiful I look tonight, not threaten to eat me on a public sidewalk.”
I grinned because she probably wasn’t wrong, but then I kissed her anyway.
She tilted her head back when mine started descending, our mouths meeting softly at first. It didn’t last long before we were pulling each other closer, deepening the kiss.
Her hands curled into my jacket and I stepped into her, completely forgetting where we were.
Someone whistled nearby and Ellora pulled back, breathless and grinning. “Oops.”
“Yeah,” I said, glancing around. “If I keep that up, we’ll end up on TMZ.”
“Exactly. So cool it, Mr. Billionaire.” She pumped her eyebrows at me, still smiling as she poked me in the chest. “It’s nice to see you too, but I haven’t eaten since breakfast. We’re getting tacos.”
I sighed dramatically and she laughed as she took my hand. “Jeez, I’m not sentencing you to manual labor. It’s a taco.”
Folding my fingers around hers, I followed her to the truck, unable to stop smiling for some godforsaken reason. “A taco is great. I love tacos. The smell alone is enough to convert a saint, but you’re still better.”
Her cheeks flushed to a warm pink under the lights as we joined the line. “That mouth of yours is going to get us in trouble. Just tell the man what you want to eat. That seems safer.”
I chuckled but swallowed at least a dozen comebacks in favor of doing what she’d said when we got to the counter. We ordered way too much food and found a little metal table under an umbrealla.
When Ellora took her first bite, she groaned, her eyelids fluttering shut. “These are indecently good. Try one.”
I leaned my elbows on the table. “I think I might be getting jealous of a taco.”
“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you,” she teased, licking salsa from her thumb. “Besides, you don’t have anything to be jealous about. This taco is going to be gone real soon, but you’re still here.”
I laughed. “Fair enough, but for the record, this was a great idea.”
“I’m glad you approve. I was worried that the lack of silverware might offend you.”
Deliberately widening my eyes, I sat up straight and blinked hard. “What? There’s no silverware? You didn’t tell me that. Someone call my butler.”
Her eyes rolled and she pointed at the pile of food in front of me. “Dig in,. Around here, we don’t let those lie around unattended for too long. A pigeon will get it.”
“Thanks for the warning.” I looked at her across the table. “Tell me about today. It looks like your idea was pretty successful.”
She grinned, nodding before she started telling me about it, explaining how she’d rearranged her shop, how the new community craft section was already drawing attention, and how she was planning Second Story Sunday, a sidewalk market to showcase local artists.
As she spoke about it, she was glowing, passionate in way I rarely experienced firsthand.
“I can’t believe how much you’ve done in just a day,” I said, genuinely impressed. “You really took that idea and ran with it.”
“It feels good. Like maybe I actually know what I’m doing when I listen to my instincts and trust myself.”
“You do know what you’re doing.” I looked into her eyes, so soft and unsure in the glow of the lights, and for a second, I swore time actually slowed down.
“Going through a tough time doesn’t make you bad at business, Ellora.
It just means you’re going through a tough time, but here you are, fighting to get through the slump and to find new ways to get customers. That makes you brave and strong.”
It was terrifying, the way she made me feel like I was finally waking up after years of being asleep. She made me believe in things I’d stopped believing in a long time ago. It was both thrilling and dangerous as hell.
“You give me too many compliments,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure what to do with it all.”
“Believe it,” I replied without skipping a beat. “Something tells me you need to start believing in yourself again. Maybe, if you start by believing that I’m honest about all this, it’ll help you get there.”
“Maybe.” She held my gaze for another moment, then smiled and cleared her throat. “Let’s pretend for a minute that it’s not Fix Ellora’s Self-Esteem Day. How did your day go?”
“Great,” I said, honest but a little surprised. “Why?”
“Why?” She frowned, but I could see the amusement in her eyes. “What do you mean, why?”
“I mean, why did you ask? Is it just to get the attention off yourself or do you actually want to know?”
“You’re not used to people being nice to you, are you?”
“Polite, yes. Nice? Not really.”
She chuckled, her head shaking slightly. “Do you not have any friends?”
I shrugged. “A few. They’re not really the how was your day type, though.”
“What type are they?”
“The type who either want me focused on whatever is going to make us all the most money next quarter, or the type who want me to match their donations to whatever cause next quarter. It’s mostly about money. Next quarter.”
Her nose wrinkled in genuine distaste. “That sounds awful.”
“Well, there’s the other type as well,” I said, a slow smirk spreading on my face. “The trust fund kids with their clubbing habits and their plans to go yachting off the Amalfi Coast.”
“Now those sound like my kind of people,” she joked. “But seriously, how was your day?”
I considered the question, eliminating any answers relating to the company’s bottom line, share prices, or good investment options. “It was fine.”
“Really? That’s all you’ve got?” She pursed her lips before pointing the bitten end of her taco at me. “You need to get used to talking about yourself, Professor. It’ll be good for you. Try it. Were you happy today?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” she asked. “What made you feel happy?”
“Mostly the fact that I spent a few hours yesterday with you,” I said honestly, but when she pursed her lips at me, I continued.
“Things are also going well with that new project my company is starting soon and there were no idiots in my direct line of sight at work today. Everyone seemed to be doing their jobs just fine.”
“See, that’s better.” She grinned. “We’ll work on the idiots thing, though. People generally don’t think you’re kind when you talk about them like that.”
“They don’t need to think I’m kind. They just need to do their jobs. As long as they do that, I don’t need to refer to them as idiots.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, we’ll definitely work on that, but I’m happy you had a good day. I was concerned all my messages might’ve been bugging you.”
“Nah. On the contrary, I enjoyed them. It was something fresh and new for me, too. You helped stimulate parts of my brain I haven’t used for too long.”
“Yeah, what parts are that? Staving off bankruptcy?”
I shook my head. “Real community involvement. Coming up with plans for people who want to be part of those plans and who are willing to work with you to achieve your goals. The grass-roots stuff.”
Her head tilted, eyes narrowing slightly on mine. “I’m not sure if that’s another compliment or an insult.”
“If it’s an insult, it’s aimed only at me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been involved in something like that, so no. Your messages didn’t bug me. They inspired me.”
“Well, I’m glad I could help,” she said lightly. “I feel like we’ve somehow started talking about me again, though, so tell me something about yourself. Not about your business or teaching, but about you. Do you have any siblings?”
“No. You?”
“Nope.” She flashed me a wry smile. “I’m not sure if anyone else would’ve survived if there were two of me running around.”
I swallowed the bite I’d just taken and chuckled. “It would’ve been interesting, that’s for sure. My turn to ask a question. What’s your favorite form of exercise?”
Her nose scrunched up. “I would’ve preferred you asking about my favorite color.”
I shrugged. “That wouldn’t tell me much about you. Perhaps if I was artistic, but I’m not.”
“Alright, then. I suppose it’ll have to be yoga. Sometimes, I jog. You?”
“Running. Oddly, I also actually like the gym, and when I have time, I enjoy hiking and being outdoors.”
“You’re right, that is odd,” she teased. “Favorite music?”
“Soft rock,” I decided out loud. “I also don’t mind country too much, and when the mood takes me, I’m all about classic rock, the stuff from the seventies and eighties that I grew up on.”
“Mine is probably pop rock and country,” she offered. “I like classic rock too, though. My mom used to play bands like Journey so loud every Saturday morning when I was growing up that there was no escaping it.”
I chuckled. “My dad did the same thing. Except it was Sunday mornings for us.”
As we finished our food, we kept going back and forth on favorite things, pet peeves, and other random bits of information. Nothing deep or too personal, but by the time we were done eating, I felt like I had a much better idea of who she was. And I liked her even more for it.
“Would you like to come back to my place for dessert?” I asked before adding. “Ice cream. I do actually mean dessert.”
She flushed but laughed quietly as she shook her head. “Thanks, I would’ve loved that, but can we take a rain check? I’m exhausted.”
“Rain check, it is,” I accepted without pushing. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow night then, Ellora.”
“See you in class.” She smiled and stood up, bending over to brush the barest of kisses to my cheek. Then she was gone, clutching the strap of her purse as she strode confidently down the street.
I watched her go until she turned the corner, then finally dragged myself back to the car. Despite telling my driver that I’d be fine, I’d noticed him hovering just down the block. As soon as I stood up, he’d started inching forward.
Neither of us commented about it as I climbed in, exhaling hard after buckling up. As he eased away from the curb, I thought about the curve ball life had thrown at me in the shape of Ellora Kinney.
I’d closed multimillion-dollar deals, pitched ideas to rooms full of titans of industry, and won awards for developments people had written articles about.
Yet none of it had hit me like that woman did standing under a string of taco truck lights. Out of completely nowhere, I’d gotten in much deeper than I ever planned and yet I had absolutely no intention of trying to find my way back out.