Chapter 32
ELLA
Rafele’s is a hole-in-the-wall Italian place Maya, Zahra, Lucy, and I used to eat at all the time back in our college days.
Maya and I had an adjoining dorm suite with Zahra and Lucy our first year at NYU, so we all became very close.
We’ve stayed close, even though we are all living busy lives in the years since college.
“Ella!” Lucy says, pulling me into a hug as soon as I step into the restaurant.
We rock back and forth, and I’m stupidly close to tears.
I haven’t seen Lucy in months, and with everything that’s happened, I’m so grateful she’s here.
She lives back in Chicago now, and she’s an executive with her family’s business, so she’s always busy. But man, how I miss her.
Lucy is the mother bear of our group. Back in college, she was always the one who made sure we were safe, and she took no shit from anyone.
Maya and I have too much midwestern manners in us at times, and sometimes we let people walk over us.
Not entirely, but enough. And Lucy had no patience for that.
If not for Lucy, I would have half the backbone I have now.
She taught me to stand up for myself and fought like a grizzly for me while I was learning to do so.
People eye us as we walk to our table, but so far I don’t think anyone has recognized me.
Tonight, their eyes are on the tall, blonde, regal, and devastatingly gorgeous Lucy.
She exudes confidence that almost never falters and it draws people in like a moth to a flame.
In college, we always teased her by calling her Queen Lucy.
She would just shrug one shoulder and smirk, not relishing the nickname, but also not disagreeing with it, either.
A queen knows her worth, whether people acknowledge it or not.
Her grandparents were Russian immigrants back in the 1940s, and Lucya Morozov is every bit the Russian beauty that seems almost mythical.
“So, what the hell, Ella?” she demands through a bright smile as we take our seats. “You’re just dating Asher Langford?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
I launch into the “official” story, shooting curt “I know I’m lying” glares at Zahra as I do, since she’s giving me the stink eye. But I don’t exactly have an NDA on me.
“And you’re already living with him? That seems fast,” Lucy says, squinting at me with a bossy set to her chin.
Trust her to sniff out bullshit. I don’t usually move fast with men.
If anything, I move at a glacial pace and often need a lot of prompting and reassurance to take big steps.
Hell, it took me nine months of Kyle’s bullshit before I worked up the nerve to break up with him.
Maybe it was because of all the assholes from the fairly small town that I grew up in trying to take advantage of Maya and me, or maybe it was moving straight to New York at eighteen where everyone is much more direct and brash—not in a bad way, just different from what I was used to—but I’ve never been one to jump into anything one way or another when it comes to men.
Except with Asher.
“It was fast. But that couldn’t be helped. As you can imagine, given the slew of pictures of me floating around online, the paparazzi are insane, and it wasn’t safe to stay anywhere else. They surrounded Zahra’s building within a couple hours of the first story release.”
“And what’s it like living with a man you’ve only been dating a short while?”
“It’s great. Plus, Asher’s penthouse is so big that it’s not like we’re on top of each other. And we’re both busy with work; he’s in London at the moment.”
“Who would have thought, Ella Bella moving in with a man in under a year. I don’t know whether to be proud or concerned.”
“You should be both,” Zahra says, giving me another loaded look.
The waiter comes to our table, and we all order the same things we’ve been ordering for a decade. It feels good to slip into old and comfortable.
“And why is that?” Lucy says as the waiter leaves.
Zahra sips her wine and seems like she’s debating her answer. “Because dating Asher Langford is no simple thing. And I wonder if it’s worth it.”
I want to roll my eyes. I know my mom and my friends have my best interest at heart, but what the hell is with the is he worth it question like he’s something to be weighed and balanced.
I still agree with my earlier thoughts. He is worth it.
Even if I’m mad at him for being a creepy stalker camera-hiding control freak.
I manage to get Lucy to drop the subject, a miracle if there ever was one, and we spend the next hour catching up and laughing like old times.
And after three glasses of wine and an old comfort dish of fettuccine alfredo—because this basic bitch keeps it simple—I’m ready to hit the dance floor.
I don’t know what my deal is this week; I never drink this much, but I’m too happily blitzed to care.
“Let’s go dancing!” I shout.
“Yes, bitch!” Zahra shouts.
“Perhaps you would like to take this back to the penthouse; you all could dance there,” Jenkins says with too much hope in his eyes.
“Pfft. Where’s the fun in that, Jenkins?”
“Ms. Hale, I don’t think Mr. Langford will be happy with you going out clubbing while you’re intoxicated.”
“Well, I’m not super happy with hiiim, so he can deal with it.”
Uh, oh. White wine hits me like a brick every time.
“Hell yeah!” Lucy says. “Wait, why are you mad at Asher?”
“Because . . . he’s a pervy control freeeak.” It takes me a minute to find my words.
“You said he was amazing.”
“He is . . . buuut . . . he’s also crazy about security. It’s unhealthy.”
“Then we’re definitely going clubbing.”
“Yes!” I teeter in my heels.
“Shit, why did we let her drink three glasses?” Zahra asks Lucy. “She’s shitfaced. She can’t go out like this.”
“Heeeey. You’re no fun.” I boop her on the nose.
“I’m just looking out for you. If people recognize you, you could have pictures and videos of you drunk surfacing all over the internet tomorrow.”
“It will be fiiiine.”
Stupid Rational Bitch pops into my head, telling me it will be far from fine, but I shut her down.
Yay for wine.
The line to the club is long, but Lucy fixes that by walking up to the bouncer and flirting with him. You’d think the man would be used to women trying to flirt their way into the club and he wouldn’t cave. But this is Queen Lucy and men can’t help but fall at her feet.
She waves to Zahra and me and we meet her at the front of the line. He pulls the red velvet rope aside for us, but pauses when it’s only halfway opened. He lifts a finger to his ear.
“Got it,” he says into his earpiece.
He reclasps the rope.
“Sorry, ladies. I can’t let you in.”
“What? Why?” Lucy demands.
“Orders.”
Jenkins shuffles uncomfortably next to me. It takes my drunk brain a minute to put the pieces together. I narrow my eyes at him.
“What did you doooo?”
My phone rings.
“It’s Asher,” I snarl, looking down at the name flashing across the screen.
“Why is he calling? It’s like three a.m. in London,” Lucy asks me.
“Like I said, control freak.” I swipe to answer the call. “Hellooooo, Asher.”
“Hello, Ella. I just got an interesting call from Jenkins.”
I glare at Jenkins. “Nark.”
“Let me be very clear, baby. You’re not going out clubbing while you’re drunk. I don’t care how mad at me you are.”
“You can’t control me.”
His dark chuckle sends warmth straight to my core. Damn him. “If Jenkins has to toss you over his shoulder to get you home, he’ll do it on my orders. And I’ll call every other club in the vicinity and tell them you’re not allowed inside if I have to.”
“You’re a dick.”
He chuckles again. “I’m going to love punishing you for tonight when I get back.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”
His dark promise sends shivers up my spine and turns my panties damp. “And now you’re going to make me wait,” I whine. “When are you going to be home?”
“That’s my dirty girl. I’ll be home in a week. Until then, I’m sure we can put the cameras in your room to good use.”
I try to respond, but my words and thoughts are a tangled mess.
“Go home, baby.” I’m not sure when Asher started calling me baby, but fuck if I don’t love it. I never thought I’d like something like that, but with Asher, I do.
“Bring as many friends as you want and dance all night if you’d like, but you’re not staying out.”
I sway slightly on my feet and Stupid Rational Bitch whispers that this is for the best, reminding me that Monday PR Ella will be happy about this turn of events.
I sigh. “Fine.”
“Good girl.”
Just as I hang up the phone, the car pulls up to the curb and Jenkins visibly relaxes.
Especially when we notice a couple of paps headed in our direction.
It took them a bit longer tonight, but they caught our trail eventually.
Fuckers. I swear they hang around outside Asher’s building and just wait for the car to leave so they can follow.
“Let’s go, ladies,” Jenkins says.
“You can’t order me around,” Lucy hisses.
“Then stay here,” he says. “You’re not the priority. Ms. Hale is. If you want to stay behind to be mobbed and questioned by the paparazzi, be my guest.”
Lucy narrows her eyes.
“Come on, Luce,” Zahra says. “Trust me, the paps are relentless. It’s better if we just leave.”