28. Ella
ELLA
“Oh my god, let’s see it!” Heather says as I walk into the conference room office space.
I wore a fitted cream dress with a high neckline so the pendant could hang on full display today.
I didn’t want to wear it to work, but Asher and Matthew told me I needed to, at least for today.
After today, the pendant will be cleaned and placed back in secure storage, since it’s so old it must be treated with a lot of care.
Apparently, there were additional pendants made for each male in the Langford line, and those have been passed down over the last two centuries as well, but since mine is the original, I’ll only wear it on special occasions from now on.
It’s all a bit mind-boggling that something like this is a normal part of a family’s traditions, but this is the Langfords. Nothing about them is normal.
“The internet has gone wild,” Emily says as the whole team gathers around me to get a look at the pendant. “You and Asher really hit it out of the park with this one.”
“It’s gone viral on a global scale,” Josh says.
Josh and Heather now manage my social media, and I mostly stay off it.
It’s hard to deal with the pressure of it, so I don’t often see what’s going on, but they fill me in.
“The story has millions of likes and shares. And congratulations are pouring in from all over. This is wild.”
He’s not wrong. The press has been having a field day with the news since America doesn’t have any royalty and the Langfords are a sort of stand-in.
Harrington and Catherine sold the official photos of Asher and me from the pendant ceremony and donated all the money to charities Asher and I favor.
Matthew told me this morning that he’s been fielding requests from talk-shows and podcasts all over the world with requests to speak to Asher and me. It’s insane.
“You did well,” Emily says. “Who would have thought when I picked you for this team that this is where you would end up.”
“It’s . . . crazy. I could have never predicted this.”
“What are you going to do when it’s all over?” Michael asks.
“Michael,” Emily snaps. “That’s hardly the question we need to be asking right now. There are still several months planned. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
I give the team a smile and head to my desk.
Part of me wants to tell them that the arrangement has morphed and that Asher and I want more than a contract, but I bite my tongue.
What we have and what we discuss behind closed doors is precious to me, and I want to keep it between the two of us.
So much of our lives has already been handed to this team to discuss, dissect, plan, and present like a purposefully wrapped bow.
I refuse to do that any further. What Asher and I have is powerful, but it’s new, and therefore delicate.
“I know one thing,” Josh says. “Whenever this is all over, it will be a shame to work back down on the marketing and PR floor. The executive floor is where it’s at.”
Emily rolls her eyes. “Let’s get to work on our June engagements.” She turns and looks at me with her back to the rest of the team. “Are you okay?” she mouths to me. I nod.
An hour into finalizing the details for each June engagement, we all receive an email notification from Matthew that states “URGENT” in the title. We all drop what we’re doing and click into the email.
“Changes in the NDA?” Emily muses, reading through the email.
“Contract has been terminated?” Michael says.
My stomach drops.
What?
Daphne looks smug as she finishes reading the sentence for him. “It says that the contract with Ella is over, effective immediately.”
“Do you know what’s going on?” Emily asks me.
Blood rushes to my head, and for a moment all I can hear is the whoosh of my pulse in my ears. I swallow hard, trying to form words. “I have no idea.”
Daphne tosses her hair over her shoulder and straightens. “It looks like Mr. Langford is done with this little charade.”
“Wait,” Emily says, reading aloud further down the email.
“There will still be a need for the PR team for Mr. Langford and Ms. Hale’s relationship, but the numbers will be reduced by half.
” She looks at me, furrowing her brows. “I don’t understand.
Why have a PR team if the contract has been terminated?
I mean, we’ll need one to transition you both out of the relationship, but it says nothing about that. ”
“Sorry!” Matthew says, bursting into the room. “I was a little trigger happy. I wasn’t supposed to send that email yet!”
“Wh . . . what’s going on, Matthew?” I stammer. I bury my shaking hands in my lap and blink to clear the black spots peppering my vision.
Asher follows him in, and I stand and make my way over to him.
“What is going on?” I ask in a whisper. I still can’t use my full voice; it’s so clogged with raw fear. “Are . . . are you done with me?”
Asher’s head rears back. “No! Of course not.”
“Sorry, Ella, this is all my fault!” Matthew says, and one part of my brain wonders if hell is freezing over. Matthew never admits to doing something wrong—probably because he almost never does anything wrong.
“Let me clarify,” Asher says, reaching for me.
I slink into him, and he wraps his hand around my waist. I let out a shaky breath, finding relief in being near him, but I still burn with fear.
He wouldn’t break up with me in front of the team, would he?
No. He wouldn’t. Just last night he was buried inside me and told me he loved me, saying the words almost like a prayer.
Then this morning I woke with him between my legs again.
He wouldn’t hurt me publicly. But then what the hell is going on?
Asher turns us to address the team. “We meant to come speak to you first and send the email afterward, but obviously Matthew got a little excited and sent it too soon. There has been a change in the status quo. The board offered me the option to terminate the contract between Ella and me, and I decided to take them up on the offer.”
My pulse pounds in my ears again.
Daphne does nothing to hide a self-satisfied smirk.
“However, this does not mean the end of our relationship.”
I take a hopeful, tentative breath.
“I agreed to terminate the contract because the nature of my relationship with Ella has changed. As all of you know, our relationship was a farce in the beginning, an arrangement forced upon me by the board. But over these last two months, Ella and I have come to care for one another beyond a professional setting and beyond our contract. Our relationship is no longer something we’re being forced into and is something very real. ”
I exhale in relief, sagging into Asher’s side as gasps break out among the team. Emily looks at me, smiling in shock, with her hands pressed to her chest. Daphne’s face is stuck somewhere between rage and disbelief.
Asher continues. “Since the board offered a termination, I agreed because I want to move forward with Ella without the contract hanging over our heads. So, from here on out, things will be different. We no longer need a team of this size because there is no more agenda in the press. This will now be a traditional PR endeavor. Living in the public eye means both Ella and I require a PR team, so this team will serve both of us. But it will change in the sense that I’m no longer interested in drumming up attention, and if anything, I’d like the attention to die down.
I want to live my life with the woman I love in relative privacy. ”
“Love?” Emily gasps before clapping her hand over her mouth. Everyone else stays still, silent and stunned.
“Yes, love,” Asher says, with a hint of a smile. He clears his throat, and his face morphs back into his stern CEO mask.
I lift my head to look at him. “You scared the shit out of me,” I whisper-hiss.
A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You can’t think I’d break up with you by team email,” he murmurs back.
“I didn’t know what to think. Look,” I hold up my hand for him to see, “my hands are still shaking.”
“Baby, you’re mine now. You can’t get rid of me so easily.” He leans down and kisses my temple.
We turn back to the team, and they’re still standing in shocked silence.
“I’ll leave it to Ella, Emily, and Matthew to decide who remains on the team and who returns to their former positions,” Asher says. “If you have a preference one way or the other, let them know, but as I said, they will be the ones who make the final decisions.”
He takes my hand and leads me out of the conference room, and Matthew follows behind. We head into his office where the contract is sitting on Asher’s desk, and the same woman who notarized it the first time sits in a chair, waiting.
“We move forward, but on our own terms,” Asher says, nodding his head toward the contract.
I lean down and sign my name on the conclusion article, almost dizzy in disbelief.
This wasn’t supposed to happen for months.
And now I know, without a doubt, that everything between us is real.
The contract may have been the thing that brought us together, but it isn’t what created the feelings between us.
The notary signs and stamps the document, and Asher flashes me his devious grin that I love so much.
It’s over.
No more contract. No more board pushing an agenda.
Just him and me. For real this time.
I reach up, wrapping my arms around his neck and his lips meet mine. The weight of expectations and falsehood falls away. Relief and joy burn through the kiss, and it’s like we can both truly just be ourselves for the first time in two months.
When we pull away, Asher smacks my ass, and I look around and realize Matthew and the notary woman are both gone.
“As much as I’d love to continue this, I have something urgent to get to,” Asher says, checking his watch.
“I have one more quick stipulation.”
He quirks a brow. “Yes?”
“I don’t want to work on my own PR team anymore.”