Chapter Eighteen
DREW
The second I entered the diner, I knew something was wrong.
Ellie had that bright, fake fucking smile pasted on—the one she seemed to wear like armor when her family was around. The innate glow that I loved in her—the quiet, steady joy that made her whole face light up—was dimmed to the point it was almost completely snuffed out.
Her laugh sounded brittle, and her shoulders were so tight I wanted to rub the knots out of them right there in front of her mother.
She radiated misery, and both Constance and Celia sat across from her like nothing was amiss, nibbling at their food as if they hadn’t just smothered Ellie’s spark to ash.
Thank God for Matt’s text. I’d been in the middle of the meeting Ellie mentioned and didn’t think twice when I told them I had a family emergency and left. The startled gazes of my employees as I let them know I wouldn’t be back was almost comical.
It was also ten am and I rarely left before seven pm most nights.
Ellie started taking notes on a typed-up sheet of paper in between bites of her pumpkin pancakes.
I stole a piece off her plate and chuckled when she playfully smacked my hand.
I watched as her neat script appeared next to the typed words on the paper as she added her thoughts.
My gaze snagged on one line and every muscle in my body went rigid.
Work on favors and create a slideshow of the happy couple.
What. The. Fuck.
Over my dead body.
“We’re busy tomorrow night,” I snapped. My jaw ached from holding back the words I really wanted to throw across the table. If I let them steamroll her now, they’d continue to think they could use her whenever they wanted. Not happening.
Ellie’s hand jerked, her pen leaving a slash across the page as her startled gaze met mine.
“I was thinking—” Celia stopped mid-sentence. “What?”
There was no fucking way Ellie was putting together a slide show of her ex and sister for this sham of a wedding. “I didn’t think I mumbled.”
“Well, ah, no, but I need Ellie’s help. There’s so much to do for the wedding and every second counts. There’s no other time to do the favors and slideshow.” Celia’s whiny tone grated on my nerves.
Constance shot me a disapproving look. “And Eleanor should be happy to—”
I cut her off. “I want to be clear. I don’t care what you think Ellie should or should not do, but we’re not available tomorrow night.” I let the full strength of my gaze settle on Celia and Constance.
“Then I guess we can do it Saturday morning before—” Celia tapped her nails against the table, eyes cutting toward Ellie.
“We’re busy then, too.”
Celia’s mouth opened and then shut with a snap.
Their mother’s eyes turned a steely gray. “Eleanor knows what’s expected of her. And that is to help her sister.”
“Mmm.” I shot them a disarming, calculating grin.
Celia’s posture relaxed and Constance seemed a little more triumphant than she should be. I was a nice guy, but I wasn’t a fucking pushover. I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere in business otherwise.
“I understand your priorities,” I said. I understood far better than either of them knew.
Ellie threw me a confused glance that I caught out of the corner of my eye. She tried to pull away from me, but I tightened my grip around her shoulders.
Constance smiled. “Thank you. I knew you’d—”
“I’m not done.”
Ellie’s mom’s mouth hung open.
“I just remembered,” I drawled, pulling out my phone. “Glamma mentioned something about construction. Driveway work? Or maybe new garden beds. Might not be the best timing for an event at her house.”
Celia’s nostrils flared. She stabbed her fork into her egg whites like they personally betrayed her. “What? No, you can’t—”
Ellie’s eyes flicked to mine, wide, uncertain. I squeezed her shoulder, a silent trust me gesture.
“I’ll ask,” I continued smoothly, thumb tapping my screen like I had all the time in the world. “But you’ll want a backup plan.”
Constance paused mid-bite. Her lips thinned, her disapproval so sharp it practically sliced the air. “Eleanor knows her duty. She’ll make it work.”
“No,” I corrected softly. “We’ll make it work. If it works for Glamma.”
The way Celia and Constance bristled told me they weren’t used to being denied. I tightened my arm around Ellie. She needed to know she wasn’t alone in this.
Not anymore.
“Now listen—”
Celia jumped in, cutting off her mother. “I think we can do the favors and slideshow ourselves, right Mom?”
Constance shot her a furious look.
I pulled my phone out of my suit pocket and pretended I had a text. “It’s Glamma.”
Celia swallowed hard. She threw a panicked look at her mother. “Right, Mom?”
“Right,” she bit out, her glare glacial.
“Oh, will you look at that?” I tapped at my phone screen to make it look like I was responding. “I was wrong. Glamma is able to help and let you use her house.”
“Perfect.” Celia’s fake excitement had me internally high-fiving myself.
“And just so we’re clear …” I stared at Celia until she met my gaze so that she would know I was dead serious. “There’s no fucking way I’d let Ellie create a slideshow glorifying her asshole ex.”
Celia’s mouth dropped open for a second before she snapped it shut.
“What else needs to be done?” I asked, not allowing her or Constance butt in with another word about it.
I might have been the one to ask the question but Celia directed her response to Ellie. “I need you to book the axe throwing place.”
Ellie blinked, flustered. “I don’t … where … axe throwing?” Her voice pitched too high, and she scribbled something on her paper to cover her confusion.
I couldn’t resist jumping in. “Babe, I don’t think I brought you there yet. It’s attached to the bowling alley.”
Ellie’s relief was instant, her fake smile transforming into something warmer as she leaned into the lie. “Oh, that’s what that place is. I meant to ask you about that.”
“We’ll go to the bowling alley on our next date.” I said.
Constance wrinkled her nose.
“When did you start to like axe throwing?” she asked her sister.
“It was either that or bowling. But my followers chose axe throwing.” Celia didn’t hide the grimace that crossed her face at either choice.
“But it’s so last minute what if they don’t have enough room to accommodate—” Ellie glanced at her sister.
“Twenty people.”
“Twenty? How big is your bridal party?”
“Ellie, they’re all my best friends. And you of course.”
“I don’t need to be in your wedding party, Celia. It’s really okay.”
“Of course you need to be in it. You’re my sister. Everyone will expect you to be a part of it.”
I didn’t miss the way Ellie’s shoulders slumped.
“Drew … I was thinking … You’d be a perfect fit with our wedding party.
You’re handsome and my readers would love it if a small-town guy got involved.
Maybe I should make you a groomsman.” Celia’s eyes slid to me, slow and deliberate, crawling over every inch of me like she was shopping for a ball gown she had no right to try on.
Heat crawled up the back of my neck. Every muscle in my jaw screamed to snap shut and tell her where she could shove her groomsman idea.
Ellie’s body stiffened beside me. Her pen stilled mid-stroke, knuckles whitening around it. The sound that came out of her was barely more than a squeak. “No, he can’t.”
The panic in her voice shredded me. It wasn’t just that I didn’t want to stand in Celia’s wedding—it was that Ellie needed me to stand with her. And God help me, I wanted to. Not only as a backup. Not just as a shield, which I knew was necessary, but as a way to show I was hers.
“It’s my wedding, Ellie.”
“Because then wouldn’t your numbers be off?” I could tell Ellie was fishing for a reason by the hesitation in her voice.
Celia scowled. “You’re right and that would just annoy me. And it’s too late to order another bridesmaid dress or ask anyone else anyway.”
I kissed the top of Ellie’s head. Before I pulled away, I drew in a deep breath, loving how she smelled of my shampoo and conditioner.
Unbidden came the image of her in my clothes last night.
I needed to stop the direction of my thoughts or I’d be fighting an erection in front of her mom and sister.
“Eleanor, I’m sure your boyfriend can help us secure a spot with the axe throwing thing,” said Constance.
“I think I can.” I motioned over to Nora. “Could you come over here for a minute?”
“You got it, Drew.” Nora finished delivering food to another table and headed our way.
“Could you call your cousin and help us find time for twenty people to go to the Axe-hole on Tuesday?”
“Saturday,” Celia corrected me.
I knew it was Saturday.
“Saturday won’t work. It’s Ruby Night.” Nora responded. “Is there another night you can pick?”
Celia sighed and pulled out her phone. “I can’t believe a business would shut down for one little event.”
“Maybe we could go bowling instead, if it’s not available,” Ellie suggested.
Her voice had gotten smaller. I’d noticed that—the way she seemed to physically shrink around her sister, her shoulders curving inward like she was trying to take up less space.
“I can’t, Ellie. What do you not get about my followers voting for that? I won’t disappoint them.”
Ellie flinched. It was subtle—just a slight tightening around her eyes, a barely perceptible catch in her breath—but I saw it.
I did not like the way her sister talked to her.
More than that, I hated it. Hated the casual cruelty in Celia’s voice, like Ellie’s suggestions were stupid and not worth considering. Hated that Ellie immediately went into damage control mode instead of defending herself.
“Right. Anything you can do would be great, Nora.” Ellie’s voice was overly bright now, that false cheerfulness people used when they were trying to smooth something over. But her hands twisted in her lap under the table.
I wanted to reach for her. To say something. But what could I say that wouldn’t make this worse for her?