Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
Edith
“ O h wow,” I say to myself as I sit in the desk chair of my reception area, facing the window and looking at makeup tutorials by Lucy Knighton—one of the top makeup artists in London—on YouTube. My iPad is perched on my lap as I devour a bar of Galaxy chocolate. My last appointment has been cancelled due to traffic, so I’ve taken the time to study before heading home for a hot bath.
I love everything about beauty therapy, but makeup is my forte. I love colour. The ways in which it channels my creativity are endless, and when I get to interact with cosmetics and new products I’m like a small girl who has been gifted a new sparkly, glittery toy.
As much as it had hurt to see her marrying Joel, I’d been honoured to do Sophia’s wedding makeup and she’d looked more beautiful than ever.
Whenever I have bridal enquiries or appointments, they send little excitement signals to my heart, but as much as I love that side of makeup, the main area I’d love to explore deeper is fashion makeup.
“Evening.”
I jump out of my skin at the sound of Joel’s voice and almost fall off my chair, not realising he’s even come in. “Jesus, Fitz. What is it with you trying to give me heart failure?”
His low laugh makes my stomach tighten. “The CCTV is there for a reason.”
“Whatever.” I rise from my seat and place the iPad back in the desk draw, trying to calm my heart that’s racing, and not just because he’d scared me… “What are you doing here anyway?”
“I decided to finish work early for a change.”
“Well congratulations,” I tease, with an air punch. “And your point is? ”
“Want to grab something to eat?”
“I’ve got a client at 6:30.”
“She cancelled. I’ve just looked in the book.”
I raise a brow, now wondering how long he’s been standing behind me. “That’s breaking my client confidentiality policy.”
“Then you shouldn’t have left it open,” he quips.
I try to hide my smile, but his grin is wicked.
Leaning one side of his body against the wall defines the thick muscles of his shoulders and biceps. He’s always been in great shape, and that hard torso he hides under his grey T-shirt has tormented me for years. It’s like a carrot has been dangling right in front of me and I’ve never been allowed to get close enough to take a bite.
“What do you say?”
Say yes. Say yes.
“About what?”
“Going for some food.”
“It’s normally me who feeds you.” I head back inside the treatment room to make sure everything is how it should be for tomorrow.
“Well, maybe I want to treat you for once.”
I throw him a look. “What’s the catch?”
“There isn’t one. You just deserve to be treated.” He holds my stare, and like a whip that’s been cracked, it sends the butterflies in my stomach soaring.
He hasn’t been working at the office today. I can tell the routine of his day by the clothes he wears. Meeting days, it’s crisp white shirts and dark grey waistcoats, which he hates but wears to be practical and professional. He never wears a full suit unless it’s necessary because he likes to feel comfortable when working. Today he fills up my space looking rugged and incredibly fucking sexy in only a T-shirt and dark jeans, his thick, dark hair that I want to run my fingers through, untamed. And his beard… Man, I want to feel that beard on the sensitive parts of my body.
I clear my throat and drag my eyes away from him. “Fine. But I want chips.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“With a diet coke.”
“That can be arranged.”
“And a custard doughnut for after.”
“Now that’s just pushing it.”
Grabbing my bag, I turn off the lights and we head down the stairs to lock up. “It’s either that or you eat alone.”
“Fuck. You really have me wrapped around your finger, haven’t you?”
I stop and turn back to him, tapping him on the nose humorously. “I’ve had years of practice.”
We head into the main part of Skipton and grab ourselves some chips, strolling as we eat. The town never fails to have that zing of electricity and energy as restaurants, and pubs amalgamate with people and the tourists that are starting to visit for the season.
“God, I needed that.” I exhale, licking my fingers one by one to get rid of the salt and vinegar. “Thank you. I’m stuffed.”
“And you wanted doughnuts, too.”
“Yeah, I’m glad we skipped those. Bad for the figure and all that.”
“There is nothing wrong with your figure.”
We stop walking as we approach the benches. Sitting, I take in the scenic view in front of me: streetlights and buildings reflecting onto the canal water, canal boats of different colours and sizes docked at the side and the moon big and round.
“How was your day?” I ask Joel.
He takes our empty chip wrappers and places them in the rubbish bin before coming back. Leaning against one of the lamp posts, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “So, so. Daniel and Teddy come around for a bit earlier.”
“How is my little dude? ”
“Cute as ever.” He smiles. “How about you?”
“Just the usual.” I don’t want to tell him of my unwanted visit from Lorna. It will only lead to questions I don’t wish to answer. However, as he rubs the back of his neck, I can see from his eyes there are things he wants to say but he’s unsure whether or not to voice them. He’s anxious, which makes me worry more. Joel hardly ever gets nervous.
“What’s up?”
“Lorna came to see me today.”
This explains things. I must give her credit though: she’s lasted a lot longer in giving him space than I expected. I sit upright. “And?”
“She brought me an invitation to your dad's party.”
“Oh.” My stomach knots. I never got mine. I tear my eyes away from him and back to the water. “I saw her today, too. She came to the salon. I never got an invite, though.” The urgent need to know how long I have to find someone hits, and I look back at him. “When is it? She never told me when it was and I—”
“It’s next week.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
Fuck.
Shit.
I deflate, an ache inside of me beginning to tighten as I realise she’s got one over on me once again. But Joel’s words keep coming, and like he’s throwing darts at a bunch of balloons, my mood faulters with each pop.
“It’s on your birthday.”
I can’t help but huff out a laugh as I stand from the bench, pacing out the frustration.
“To be honest, Edie, I don’t know how she expects everyone to be there given the fact it’s such short notice.”
“It’s Lorna. People will drop everything to be there.”
Either the people entertain her because they are scared of her, or they do it because they see her as this wonderful person—a memo about which I must have missed.
I’m more than happy to share my birthday with Dad—of course, I am—but if he’d had a choice, which I knew she won’t have given him, he wouldn’t have had it the same day. My dad may be blind to Lorna’s manipulations, but he’s never done anything that would overshadow me.
“My invitation also never mentioned taking a plus one.”
“Oh…”
So, she really doesn’t want me there then .
How can one woman have so much power and control over me, even as an adult? How can one woman have me all knotted up with feelings I can’t control and make me feel worthless with just a look, a simple word, a fucking party.
“Lorna said you’d found someone to go with.”
“I lied. I just said what she wanted to hear to get her to leave. But I will find someone.” The optimism in my voice does nothing for what I’m feeling on the inside.
“With a week’s notice?”
I swallow hard. His question feels like it is choking me.
Suddenly, Joel is up close in my personal space, lifting my chin for my eyes to find his again. “Why didn’t you tell me you needed a plus one or you couldn’t go?” His voice is soft, coating my skin in the most beautiful blanket of security, while my heart skips from his touch. If it weren’t for the fact he is so close, I’d be screaming at myself to get a grip due the reaction he’s caused. I can’t, though, because he’s succeeded in diminishing all the strength I have inside.
“I didn’t think it was important,” I whisper.
“But it’s important to you.”
"Well, now you know. And with me out of the way, she gets to lavish all her attention on Dad while everyone's else’s attention is on her. Lorna wins again."
"I'll go with you."
"What? No.”
“You should have told me, Edie.”
“I couldn’t.” My voice is louder than I anticipated.
“Why?”
I don’t respond, stepping away from him. He seems as surprised by my abrupt reaction as I am by his words. “Because I knew you would do this. Offer to come with me. I can’t ask that of you. Not when you don’t want to go. No. I can’t ask you to do that.”
"You didn't ask. I offered."
“I can’t accept your offer.”
He closes the gap between us again. "And I won't have you miss out on your dad's night because of her. I'll go with you."
“But I know you don’t want to!” Taking another step back, I try to calm myself because this twisted situation has got me all hot and bothered.
“Can you honestly stand there and say you will be able to cope being in a room with all those people? With Lorna? The first big gathering since Sophia?” If there is any doubt in his mind about what I’ve said, he doesn’t show it. “I know you don’t want that. ”
“But this isn’t about me, Edie. It’s about you and what you want.”
“What I want is to live my life without that fucking woman having power and control over me!”
“Which I get. So, let’s not give her the satisfaction because not going will allow her to win.” Cupping my jaw, he paralyzes me in place, holding my stare with hard, determined eyes that I feel deep in my soul. “Answer me one question. Do you want to be at your dad’s party?”
“Of course, I do.”
“And all I want is for you to be happy; if that means me going with you then so be it. I will go with you. And that is final.”
I didn’t want it to be like this—I didn’t want him to agree because of me—but if I’m honest, I’m glad I’ll have my wingman by my side.
“God that woman has a lot to answer for.”
He chuckles. “She sure does.”
Needing to feel his comfort, I slip my arms around him, losing myself in his hard chest and warmth. "Thank you, Joel. I don’t deserve you."
He holds me tight, placing a kiss on my head as we stand in silence. Every ounce of frustration I’ve had inside of me is now washed away.
Pulling back, he holds my shoulders. "If we are going to do this, we do it right. So, I have one condition."
"Go on."
"We dress to the nines so that we not only knock Lorna on her arse but so everyone is looking at us instead. It will be your birthday and your celebration, too, after all. And if it's too much for either of us, we are out in seconds."
My smile is wide. "That's two conditions but I'll take them."
"Good." He holds my stare, and even after everything he’s just said, my self-doubt has me questioning it once more.
"You'll really do this for me?"
He tucks my hair behind my ear and smiles. "Edie, I'll do anything for you."