Chapter Seven Eliott #2
She sent her request a few days ago, but I still haven’t replied. Part of me hopes that if I ignore it for long enough, it’ll go away. The smart, rational part of me knows that I have to respond, but I still haven’t figured out what I want to say.
‘Sorry, I tried to bring your brother home for a night of back-blowing sex, but embarrassed myself so thoroughly that the idea of spending any extended time with him makes me want to hurl.’
Hm. No. For some reason, I don’t think that will go down well. But I need to tell her something . Ghosting isn’t an option, no matter how tempting it might seem. Bailey and Cash have been nothing but kind to me, and I owe them an explanation. Even if it’s not exactly the truth.
I pull up the message request, idly wondering if I could pass their booking on to another photographer with a similar style to me, when the username flashing across my screen makes my heart stop for a moment.
@greatdaneconstruction
No.
Surely not.
I tap the profile. It’s empty save for one terribly photographed post of a garage extension almost three years ago.
The lighting is off and the focus isn’t actually on the extension itself, but rather a nearby bush, which makes the whole photo look slightly blurry.
But it’s not the terrible photography that’s got my heart choking in my throat right now.
Great Dane Construction Services.
Dane.
A memory from our almost night together jumps into the forefront of my mind.
Us slow wining on the dance floor, sharing random pieces of information about each other.
Nothing too deep, but enough to forge some kind of connection between us before we headed back to my place.
I remember vaguely Dane telling me that he runs a construction business with a friend.
I swipe back to the message.
@greatdaneconstruction
hey, eliott. it’s dane. from the other night.
and also two years ago lol.
hope you don’t mind me messaging you out of the blue like this, but i’d really like to talk things over and clear the air if we can. i know bailey’s got her heart set on you for the wedding and i don’t want to be the reason that doesn’t happen.
anyway. let me know.
‘Why do you look like you’ve just found out there’s an asteroid heading for Earth?’
I jump as Leanne slides onto the stool next to me, her brows raised in question.
Before she can say anything else, I drop my phone back into my purse and give my sister a once-over.
This is supposed to be a casual dinner and drinks, a way for us to catch up in person because we haven’t seen each other face to face since her semester started.
I take one look at the strappy heels wrapped around her ankles, her short dress, and her full face of stunning make-up and know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I’m only her first stop tonight.
Given how thoroughly my day was monopolised by Nan, I should feel a sense of relief in knowing that Leanne plans to cut our night together short in favour of…
a boy, I’m assuming? But it irks me anyway.
She’s the one who badgered me endlessly about tonight.
The one who spent the better part of a month begging me to find some time in my calendar so we could catch up.
‘I miss you, Elz,’ she’d pouted on the phone one night. ‘Feels like we never get to see each other anymore.’
And so I’d pored through my calendar, looking for a significant chunk of free time where we could do some real sisterly bonding, like we used to before life got so busy and started pulling us in different directions.
So yes, it’s more than a little annoying that she’s already got one foot out the door.
‘Earth to Elz.’ Leanne prods me sharply in the chest. ‘What’s got you looking like that?’
‘It’s nothing,’ I say, shaking my head free of any irritation. Just because the night might end sooner than I would’ve liked, it doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time now. ‘You look nice. What’s the occasion?’
She grins and flips her hair over her shoulders. ‘Can’t a girl dress up to see her big sister?’
I raise a brow in answer and Leanne immediately starts giggling.
‘ Fine . I’m heading to a party after this, but that’s not important. We’re having us time right now. What’s new? Tell me everything. Ooh. Do you want to do shots?’
I open my mouth to decline, but Leanne’s already waving the bartender down and, before I know it, two small glasses filled with a brown substance and topped with whipped cream are being placed in front of us.
‘Two blow jobs,’ the bartender says as he pushes them towards us.
He gives me a wink and I, for the first time tonight, give him a once-over.
Tall, clean-shaven, nice voice. At one point in my life, I probably would’ve spent the rest of the evening flirting with him, cautiously testing the waters to see if this had any potential.
But I’m not in the mood for that right now.
I haven’t been in a very long time.
‘Ooh, he’s into you,’ Leanne says, a little too loudly. The bartender glances over his shoulder, grins shyly and then looks away. ‘Want me to wingman for you?’
I don’t want to go home with anyone tonight, but even if I did, his reaction to Leanne’s comment leaves me feeling a little flat.
As much as I hate it, I can’t help but think about how Dane would’ve reacted to it.
For some reason, I doubt that all I would’ve got would’ve been a shy smile before he started pretending to be busy washing glasses.
Dane would’ve been over here immediately, turning that confident grin on me as well-practised lines spilled from his lips.
God.
When did Dane become my standard?
I shake my head and tell myself the only reason Dane is in the forefront of my mind is because of his unexpected message and nothing else. ‘I’m good.’
Leanne shrugs and lifts her glass, gesturing for me to do the same. ‘To sisters!’ she cheers.
‘To sisters,’ I echo before downing the drink in one smooth gulp. It’s actually quite nice. The warmth of the liqueur mixes nicely with the coolness of the whipped cream and helps to relax me a little. I can practically feel my lingering irritation rolling off me in waves.
Leanne gulps hers down just as smoothly and uses the back of her hand to wipe away any whipped cream on her face. ‘You want another? Ooh, maybe we should do some tequila shots this time?’
‘Let’s slow it down a bit,’ I laugh. ‘We’ll grab a table, get something to eat, maybe switch to cocktails for a while.’
Leanne suddenly looks uncomfortable. She squirms a little on her stool and her grin quickly turns sheepish. ‘Right. Well. The thing is—’
‘If you’re about to bail on me—’
‘I’m not bailing!’ Leanne squeaks, voice far too defensive for someone who is absolutely about to bail. ‘I told you, I’ve got that party after this, so I thought I could use this as pre-drinks and as a way for us to catch up. Two birds, one stone.’
‘We’re supposed to be having dinner,’ I say, trying my best not to let disapproval lace my every word.
I’m always very aware of the ten years between us and just how easy it is for me to fall into that mother role.
Effortless really. But I hate it and I know she does too.
Ninety per cent of our arguments when she was a kid were about how I wasn’t her mother and couldn’t tell her what to do – usually shrieked at me when she was seconds away from doing something incredibly dangerous, stupid, or an ill-advised combo of the two.
I always agreed wholeheartedly, but someone has to do it.
‘I know, I know,’ Leanne winces. She looks genuinely sorry. ‘But I completely forgot about our plans when I RSVP’d to the party, and Jake is going to be there so—’
‘Jake? Who’s Jake?’
Her eyes light up. ‘He’s a guy on my course and oh my God , have I not told you about Jake? How have I not told you about Jake?’
‘That’s what tonight was supposed to be,’ I remind her. ‘Us catching up. Jake probably would’ve come up at some point.’
‘We can still catch up!’ Leanne insists.
‘We’ve still got twenty minutes before I have to leave.
Thirty-five,’ she amends quickly, shuffling a little closer so she can squeeze my hand.
‘Don’t give me that look, Elz. We can still have a good time.
And I promise I’ll make it up to you. It’s half-term in a couple of weeks.
Maybe we can do a girls’ night or something? ’
I valiantly resist the urge to tell her that tonight was supposed to be our girls’ night and instead give her a stiff nod. ‘All right. But I want your undivided attention for the next thirty-five minutes.’
Leanne drops her phone into her purse and zips it up with a flourish. ‘I’m all yours.’
Two more rounds of shots, one round of cocktails later, and Leanne is in hysterics as I tell her about a nightmare wedding I photographed a month or so ago.
‘He did not say that in his speech,’ Leanne wheezes, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. ‘I refuse to believe a grown man could be so obtuse. Absolutely refuse.’
‘He did! The poor bride looked like she wanted to melt through the floor. And her father?’ I shake my head and click my tongue. ‘Let’s just say if looks could kill, I’m pretty sure they’d be planning a funeral right now.’
‘Unbelievable,’ Leanne says, dabbing at her eyes. ‘Please tell me you got photos?’
‘I stopped taking them about halfway through the speech when I realised there was no redeeming it. But yeah. Managed to capture that initial look of horror from the bride.’
‘Poor girl,’ Leanne sniffs before her expression turns curious. ‘Does seeing that kind of stuff put you off marriage? Or dating in general?’
I huff out a dry laugh. That’s not what’s been putting me off dating recently, but Leanne doesn’t need to know that.
‘Not really. They’re more like cautionary tales, I guess.
You get a first-hand idea of what not to look for in a partner.
And—’ I pause, my thoughts drifting to Bailey and Cash for a surprising second, ‘And what to look for. The green flags, you know?’
Leanne nods thoughtfully. ‘Speaking of green flags…’ She trails off and reaches for her purse, pulling her phone out in one smooth movement.
Her phone lights up with a flurry of notifications, all from someone saved as ‘JAKE 3’, and her expression turns sheepish.
‘I should really start heading to the party.’
‘Go, go,’ I say, waving her off.
‘Are you sure? I could maybe stay for another…’ She glances at her phone. ‘Ten minutes.’
I nod. As short as tonight was, I had a good time and the last thing I need is for Leanne to start feeling like she has to spend time with me. ‘Go and have fun.’
She leans in and gives me a brief but tight hug before pulling away to slide off her stool. ‘You’re the best, Elz. And I promise I’ll make it up to you.’
‘How’re you getting there?’ I ask, watching as she wobbles slightly on her heels.
‘Tube,’ she says with a shrug. ‘Won’t take too long.’
She’s definitely not drunk, but I imagine she’s got the same pleasant buzz that’s currently thrumming through my veins. ‘ Please get an Uber.’
She snorts. ‘Not in my budget this month.’
‘I’ll get it.’ The idea of her stumbling along underground platforms late at night suddenly fills me with a sense of panic. I reach for my phone and unlock it. Dane’s message is still on the screen, but I swipe it away in favour of opening the Uber app.
Leanne doesn’t even try to protest.
‘Elz, you are a queen !’ she coos as I hand her the phone so she can plug in the address. ‘My queen specifically. A goddess among women.’ She hands my phone back to me, then gives me one last hug before she hurries off, noticeably less wobbly now.
It’s only as she disappears through the doors that I realise she’s also left me with the bill.
It should bother me – this kind of thing usually does – but between the alcohol still working its way through me and the general happiness I’m feeling after our brief but fun evening together, I can’t bring myself to care. Just this once, I’ll let it slide.
I can’t call an Uber for myself until Leanne reaches her party, so I signal the bartender for another drink and scroll through my phone. I’m seconds away from messaging Sasha to see if she wants to come out and meet me, when I remember Dane’s message.
I open it up again, preparing to delete it and push him firmly out of my mind for good, but my thumbs stall over the screen.
I don’t know whether to blame it on residual guilt from the engagement party or the handful of drinks I’ve had tonight but, before I can stop myself, I start typing out a reply.