Chapter 41
Forty-One
T he next morning, I was jolted awake by Keira dive bombing me in my bed.
“Good morning!” She laughed, straddling me while I groaned.
“What are you doing?”
“I came to celebrate with you!” She clapped her hands. I opened one bleary eye, peering at her. “You’re famous!” She stuck her phone under my nose and there was a headline from a tabloid article.
Is long time bachelor Alfie Tell finally settling down?
Underneath was a big picture of Alfie and I walking out of Heathrow.
Oh, great.
I huffed, shoving her phone away. “Keira, I don’t care about that stuff. Get off me.” I squeezed out from under her and headed for the bathroom. She followed, hot on my heels and began reading the article out loud as I sat down to pee.
“Prominent billionaire Alfie Tells’ new mystery woman is one Lola O’Connell, a twenty eight year old?—”
“Twenty eight? I’m twenty six!”
Keira grinned. “I thought you didn’t care?”
I scowled, tearing off some toilet paper for myself and throwing the roll at her head. She dodged it and carried on reading as I washed my hands and started on my teeth.
“—twenty eight year old garden designer. They returned from a romantic getaway in Greece yesterday evening?—”
“It was not a romantic getaway!” I mumbled around my toothbrush.
“—according to sources, they met in O’Connells’ hometown two years ago when Tell was there working on a new hotel renovation.
Apparently, Lola O’Connell caused quite the stir in the lobby of The Carlton hotel, arriving one time covered in paint and another time drunk.
Even once, they both appeared soaking wet and in the middle of what seemed to be a heated argument.
Perhaps this fiery redhead will keep the playboy on his toes, or?—”
“Enough,” I snapped, spitting and rinsing my mouth. Keira paused, the humour fading from her eyes.
“You’re really bothered about this.”
I shoved my toothbrush back in the holder and started dragging a hairbrush through my hair. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“You knew he was kinda famous…”
“I know, I just…I didn’t click it. I didn’t think anyone would care about us or him anymore, he’s not made headlines because of the club for a long time.” I shoved my hair up into a ponytail and headed back to my room. Keira followed me.
“He’s still one of the richest bachelors on the planet. He’s Alfie fucking Tell, Lola!”
I was all too aware of that.
“Whatever. I’m going to work.”
“Yeah, about that…” Keira’s voice trailed off and I turned to look at her, one hand in my wardrobe as I searched for something suitable to wear. “Elliot’s in the living room.”
Ten minutes later I was dressed and concealer had been applied to the circles under my eyes. I found Elliot sitting on the couch, dwarfing it with his size. He stood as I entered the room.
“Not to be rude, Elliot, but what are you doing here?”
With a grim expression he nodded at the window. I peeked out to see a bunch of reporters waiting outside. My stomach turned over at the sight of them.
“Alfie thought you might want a lift to work. It’s not mandatory.”
For a moment, I contemplated turning him down but in truth, I would much rather have some back up when dealing with those people. “Thank you, a lift would be nice. Coffee?”
“No, thank you, Miss.”
I headed into the kitchen and set about making up a thermos of coffee and my lunch for the day.
“So, who are their sources?” I asked over my shoulder, catching Elliot’s eye. “I read one of the articles this morning, apparently they have ‘sources’. I’m putting my money on that owl-faced receptionist from the hotel.”
Elliot cleared his throat. “Actually, it’s us.”
“What? But some of the stuff they said wasn’t even true!”
“I’m aware of that, Miss.”
I blinked, unable to understand the motivation for this. Alfie said we were supposed to ignore it, now he was cooperating? “You fed journalists bogus information?”
“They were going to get it from somewhere,” Elliot gave a slight lift of his shoulders. “Alfie prefers to control the narrative.”
I sighed and leaned against the counter. “Of course he does.” He’d fed them a seed of truth gift-wrapped in bullshit and they’d eaten it for breakfast, just like I had done so many times in the past.
“How was Greece?” Imani sat back in her seat, sipping chamomile tea as I looked through her latest designs for a new exhibition at Kew Gardens.
“Perfect, just like these. I can’t remember that there has ever been a Japanese exhibit here?” I smiled down at her plans for a guided tour of art, culture and of course plants that ran in half of her blood. It was fresh and diverse, an exciting change.
“There hasn’t and I don’t pay you for perfect, Lola. Tell me something is wrong with it.”
I laughed, studying them once again, searching for any flaw no matter how tiny.
Her plans were made up of two gardens, one a peaceful space reminiscent of a traditional Japanese tea garden, the other, more vibrant, employing slopes to represent mountains and the ocean, with raked gravel and large rocks depicting the tumbling and flowing of water.
Inviting visitors into the garden was an exquisitely designed gateway, embellished with flowers and animals.
“There’s nothing wrong with it but do you have space for a third garden?”
Her brows raised slightly. “Yes, you think it needs it?”
“Maybe.” I pulled her sketch pad toward me, picked up a pencil and turned to a blank page.
“You need a third space to tie the first two together,” I said as I began drawing.
“Perhaps depict the mountain regions in Japan? You could use stones and rock outcrops, and low lying hedges could be used to—” My words trailed off as she pushed another piece of paper towards me.
A third design for a third garden that she had already planned out. She was way ahead of me.
“My thoughts exactly.” She smiled and I arched a brow at the genius designer who was all things I wanted to be.
“Are you ever going to stop testing me?”
“What else is a mentor for?” She gave an innocent shrug and sipped her tea. “Speaking of testing you, how are your plans for the Chelsea project coming along?”
“Not at all. I do have a research trip planned though.” I filled her in on my trip to Dubai, hoping she would approve of me taking a few days off even though I had only just returned from Greece.
“Absolutely, you must go. The Miracle Garden is stunning and perfect inspiration for your own floral sculpture.”
“I hope so.”
She was silent for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Do you have any thoughts as to what you’ll do after the show?” she asked, her keen gaze pouring over me. “You only have another six months, Lola, then your position here will be over too.”
“I know.” The thought had my stomach churning.
I had no plans yet but soon I would have to start job hunting again.
Hopefully, with qualifications under my belt, as well as a mentorship under a renowned designer and the opportunity to design for a prestigious event, my chances of landing a good position somewhere would be high.
“I wonder if you would consider working with me on another project? It’s a little unorthodox…”
Yes! Absolutely yes! That’s what I wanted to say but I hesitated. “Care to elaborate?”
“Not at this time. I’d like to see how your project turns out first.”
“So, if I do well you have another job for me and if I don’t you’re cutting me loose?”
She chuckled. “What else is a mentor for but to hold her mentee’s feet to the fire?”
I laughed, shaking my head. She wasn’t joking. If I failed at this, I truly believed she would leave me in her dust.
“As for your project, I think you need to shake yourself up a bit.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning do something extreme. Something to break the dam.”
“I’ve just been jet skiing in Greece with a temperamental billionaire, doesn’t that count?
” The words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them.
I’d never once mentioned Alfie to Imani before and suddenly exposing him to the light of her scrutiny had me nervous.
I wondered what she’d make of me being with someone like Alfie.
Would she think I was cheating my way to the top like Mark had?
“Yes, I had heard about that. My point is to do something that makes you feel extreme. Extreme rage, extreme fear, extreme ecstasy, whatever. Jump out of a plane, try shrooms, have an orgy. Something.”
I understood what she was saying. ‘When in doubt, change the status quo.’ That had been one of the first lessons she’d taught me.
“Orgy isn’t really my style.”
She shrugged. “What makes you feel extreme?”
The answer to that was easy. Alfie Tell. He’d made extreme a standard state of being for me once and a part of me missed it. Extreme ecstasy, it had been too long since he’d made me feel that.
I sat there, gnawing on my thoughts when I heard my phone ringing at my desk. Imani waved, dismissing me from our meeting.
I picked up my phone to see my sister's name flashing on the screen. I winced as I accepted the call, already knowing the reason for it.
“Care to tell me why you’re back together with a man who stole your birth control?” Natalie’s voice was harsh, anger laced with fear pouring through every syllable. This was going to take some explaining and I just had to hope my sister would have my back. I took a deep breath. Here we go.