Chapter 9
The signature Ashwood bow was delicately drawn onto one wall, while the opposite one was covered in huge framed prints of designs and Hunter Ashwood on his first red carpet. There were a lot of things you could call the Ashwoods, but modest wasn’t one of them.
In the back by the window, I’d prepared a cart with flavored waters, tea, and coffee, and on the table was a bowl of snacks I knew no one would touch. For my peace of mind, I’d put it there anyway.
While Elliot asked for their drink preference and prepared it, I took the opportunity to grab the seat at the head of the table. Ryan and Daphne sat on the chairs closest.
It wasn’t catching a ride with them for an uninterrupted conversation, but it was something. A small win.
“When did you guys get to New York?” I asked for the sake of No Awkward Silence. I needed to stay cool, calm, and collected. They were just people. Normal people adored by half the world. “You’re LA based, right?”
From behind, Elliot gladly let them know, “This one loves to do her research.”
He set the first two cups of coffee—Ryan’s and his—on the table, then went back to the cart behind us.
Another way-too-big smile. I paired it with a shrug and hoped they couldn’t tell how forced it was when I asked, simply to keep myself busy, “Sugar, Ryan?”
“I’d take some,” Elliot commented from behind, and I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself.
Meanwhile, Daphne shook her head for Ryan. “His manager would kill him, then you for offering.” She laughed.
“If it was up to me, I’d have the entire plate of cookies you guys prepared,” he agreed. “Unfortunately, it’s not.”
I did not envy that. I liked eating healthy, and I tried to avoid fast food, but never strictly. If I wanted pizza, I’d get a pizza. Then again, I wasn’t paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to look a certain way on screen. Maybe I’d diet strictly for that kind of money too.
“If it was up to the casting directors of his next project, you’d put salt in his coffee instead to keep him from drinking it,” Daphne went on.
But all I heard was salt in coffee, and all I saw in my head was Elliot, spitting it across the table. I nodded understandingly, continued listening to Daphne and Ryan bickering about his diet, and hoped they didn’t notice how I grabbed the saltshaker instead of the sugar.
“Anyway.” Daphne sighed. “Yeah, we got in from LA last night. But we’ll be staying in the city until the Annual. I’m not the biggest fan of the West Coast.”
Poisoning Elliot was easier than it should’ve been. I pushed the salt back into the middle of the table just in time to follow the rest of their conversation. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I wasn’t quite sure if it was still just their presence or the salt dissolving in his coffee.
Ryan gave Daphne a playful glance. “She makes it sound so casual. Like she hasn’t been begging to do this.”
A gasp. A giggle. Both sounds bleeding into one as Daphne rolled her eyes ironically. “Don’t reveal that! Eve said to play it casual,” she mocked. “We’re not supposed to tell them I couldn’t sleep last night because I was so excited.”
“My publicist,” Ryan added for context. “Who doesn’t know that the first gift I got Daffy was a vintage Ashwood necklace, so I don’t think she’ll be able to play this casual,” he added, grin on his face, eyes still on her. I’m glad she can’t written in the green of them.
“Well.” I laughed, trying not to melt at how clearly in love they were. “I’m happy to report that I’ve been told to play it casual, too. And I’m not sure how great of a job I’m doing.”
But my nerves were finally starting to settle. Maybe I was slowly getting used to sitting at the same table as Daphne and Ryan. Maybe I was a little excited to see Elliot spray his coffee across that table in a few minutes. Who knows.
My confession was as much of an attempt to make them feel better about themselves as it was necessary to get off my chest. “I’m a huge fan. Of both of you.”
Ryan’s smile turned genuine, showing perfect white teeth and crinkles around his nose. “Your gasp when we walked in kind of gave it away,” he joked. “But you recovered quickly.”
The way I threw my head back with a groan earned me another laugh. Behind us, water was poured, glasses clinked, and through an open window, the sounds of the city mixed with birds in a nearby tree.
Easy. Comfortable. Exactly how we needed it to be.
Two more glasses appeared between us, and I couldn’t really focus on the fact one of them must’ve been for me—even though Elliot hadn’t asked what I wanted—because he was there, suddenly.
Close enough to smell his cologne, hear his even breathing.
Close enough that a single tilt of my head left me staring straight into dark-blue eyes that were more breathtaking than one could’ve imagined from a distance.
And they’d already been quite nice then.
“Excitement is good,” Elliot agreed, attention still on me.
Still letting his gaze skip across my face, the few freckles and my brown eyes—which hopefully willed him to look away.
I didn’t know why I couldn’t. “How do you feel about the theme?” Finally, he straightened, attention back where it should be: on our guests.
“Your invite came long before that was decided.”
“Love!” Daphne clapped in excitement. “I’m seeing pastel colors and silk and long, flow-y dresses—sorry, am I overstepping? I know all that’s your job—”
“We’re just glad you’re thinking outside of leaves in your hair.” Elliot laughed, grabbing a chair and effortlessly hoisting it back over to where he was standing. Which, inevitably, was also where I was sitting.
His next glance was no longer intimate or lingering or whatever else it could’ve been. All it said was Scooch over?
So, we both sat at the head of the table. I was doing a really bad job of subtly staring. Very obviously, I watched his lips purse around the rim of his cup.
“Which is where my mind immediately went, by the way,” Ryan confessed. “To green and ivy and, well, leaves in her hair—are you alright, man?”
Elliot’s mouth twisted into a grimace. I nearly burst with joy. “He’s good,” I supplied, because God knows Elliot wouldn’t. With a sweet look in his direction, I added, “Aren’t you?”
Maybe it hadn’t been enough salt, because Elliot still swallowed the coffee, even if it looked painful. His face contorted in surprise and disgust and realization before his eyes finally (unfortunately?) shot in my direction.
“Hm?” he forced out.
“I asked if you’re alright.” The giddiness in my voice was undeniable. I knew I should tone it down, but I couldn’t help it. Seeing Elliot struggle might be the highlight of my day, and Daphne and Ryan were right there. “You don’t look so well.”
“Just . . . really great coffee.” He smacked his lips. “Did you put sugar in this?”
“Just how you like it.” My head tilted in amusement. “You’re the reason Daphne and Ryan are here, I’ll have to thank you for that somehow, right?”
Both of them waved the compliment off, unaware it was the exact opposite. I was glad they were here—of course I was. But I hated that Elliot was the reason for it. That he’d somehow managed to turn my takedown plan into another win for himself.
“Well.” One last time, he swallowed thickly. “Let’s make sure their looks are more than those leaves Ryan thought about, or they might regret working with us after all.”
Laughter filled the room again. With Elliot fully recovered, ideas were thrown around and considered.
The goal of this meeting wasn’t to make serious decisions.
We had to get a feel for them—what they liked, disliked, and could be swayed on.
How they thought and what they wanted out of their Ashwood Annual debut.
We weren’t here to seriously deny or approve any ideas, nor were we supposed to be making big suggestions until we’d compared notes and checked in with our mentors.
Obviously, Elliot Ashwood considered himself above the rules. Maybe his next words were some form of revenge for my salt attack.
“We were thinking a touch of sustainability, maybe?”
His tone was conversational, casual, and it almost worked. Almost had me just nodding enthusiastically before waving the proposal through. But we’d never spoken about sustainability. Not after our argument last week.
And I’d been sure he’d dropped that thought before we’d even left the room.
Ryan’s brows jumped at the suggestion. “Really?”
“Don’t make that face,” Daphne scolded. We had no time to jump in before she added, turning back toward us, “It’s brilliant! What is The Spirit of Earth if not caring for the planet? Makes total sense. What were you thinking?”
It wasn’t supposed to make total sense, though.
If she weren’t looking at me so expectantly, I would’ve groaned. Maybe rolled my eyes. Maybe killed him.
“We’ll go into detail some other time,” Elliot jumped in, clearly sensing I wasn’t about to play along in his little scheme. “Just wanted to run the idea by you before we go further. Some might say it’s hypocritical to focus on sustainability when the event in itself . . . isn’t necessarily that.”
Heavy side-eye at me. I felt it without having to check.
Daphne hummed thoughtfully. “I think it just gives us one of the biggest stages in the world. Makes a statement. Right?”
I took my first sip of water to avoid an answer. Raspberry, the way I always had it in the office. Down to the three ice cubes inside.
“Totally agree.” This time, it wasn’t just a subtle look; Elliot turned to me fully, raising his brows and making a point by prodding, “Right, Maeve?”
And I wanted to strangle him right then and there.
Right. Yes. Of course.
My cowardly agreement still haunted me twenty minutes later as we waved Daphne and Ryan goodbye with the fakest smiles ever seen. Like divorced parents reuniting for the first-day-of-school sendoff.
“Why do you make my life so difficult?” The door closed behind them, but I didn’t dare drop my smile.
“Oh come on, Maeve.” Elliot’s shoulder bumped mine. “Live a little.”