Chapter Twenty-Eight Elise #3
"Just browsing," I say, smiling at him and stepping closer, making sure to swing my hips as I do. "But you look like you could recommend something... intense. I'm in the mood for a thrill."
His brow furrows, and he keeps his eyes on my face, tilting his head slightly in thought.
"Sure. You like psychological suspense, noir, or more crime-focused?”
"Something... sexy," I drop my voice, breathy and low. "With a powerful woman. A woman willing to do whatever it takes to get what she wants."
"I think you'd like Gone Girl then.”
Without another word, he steps around me and walks over to a shelf. I’m momentarily stunned by his lack of reaction, his lack of anything, and hurry to follow. He trails his large fingers over the titles, and I step close enough to smell him and study his broad back, which is solid with muscle.
"Flynn... Flynn... here you ar—," he turns and jumps back a little bit when he notices how close I am. I flash him my sexiest smirk—the kind that once made CEOs fall to their knees—but he just blinks and holds the book out to me, taking another step back. "Here you go. Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn."
Still nothing. He doesn't take his eyes from mine, and I take the book from his hands, deliberately brushing my fingers over his. He snatches his hand back a little too quickly, taking one more small step back and making me grit my teeth.
What the hell?
I lift my foot to step closer—
Hiss!
A vicious little monster, ears flat against its head, a low growl rumbling, stands between us, glaring at me. It opens its mouth and hisses at me once more, and I step back in alarm so my legs don’t get shredded.
Right back at you, you little shit.
"Sorry. Plot can be a little mean," he says, though he doesn't sound sorry at all. In fact, he smiles down at the monster like it's adorable.
"You don't say," I grit out, watching the beast slink under a nearby bookshelf with a final growl thrown my way.
"Is that all?" he asks me, gesturing to the book in my hand, and I step closer to him, ignoring that he takes another step back. His brows knit together, and he looks a little confused, but I press on.
"What's your name?" I purr.
"I'm Callum, Callum Rhodes," he says with a small wave, making no move to reach out a hand.
"Rhodes?" I gasp, feigning delight. "Oh, so this is your store?"
A business owner.
Even if it is a dusty little bookstore in this nowhere town. People love a story.
Through my career, I’ve learned about people, and what I’ve learned is that they’re stupid and easy.
They love these little stores, love supporting small businesses over corporations.
That was one of the things I handled, framing corporations as small businesses so the general public could feel a little better about themselves and where they spend their money.
It was easy to fool them, to trick them into thinking they were supporting mom-and-pops when, in reality, they were just funding the CEO's ninth house.
Morons.
But Callum could use me. I could help make him rich. I could take him from this sad little town.
I mean, come on, what could Sophie truly offer him besides watching her waste away into nothing?
She doesn't stand a chance.
Jackpot.
"Uh, yeah. Mine and my mom's," he scratches the back of his neck, brown eyes darting all around the store, and mouth in a tight smile. He fidgets, and I smirk, stepping a little closer to him. He steps back, and I resist the urge to growl in frustration and yell at him that I’m not diseased.
"Do I make you nervous, Callum?" I ask, a smirk curving at my lips and determination rising inside of me.
"No," he answers immediately with a firm voice, and I stumble slightly at the final tone. "I'm just a big fan of personal space."
He walks back to the cash register, and I huff quietly. He's a tough one to crack, I'll give him that. I start to follow him before something red out of the corner of my eye catches my attention.
Sophie.
She's on the other side of the glass door, her hand on the door handle as if she were about to open the door, and just froze.
She's watching us, her face pale and her expression unsure, and a little sad.
I'm sure that seeing me talking to her new man, while I look like this and she looks like that, is a huge hit to her confidence.
Insecurity must be flooding the poor thing. What a shame.
There’s hair on her head—clearly a wig—but it looks quite similar to her hair I remember.
Brushes against her collarbone in dark brown waves, and she does look quite pretty, but I can't help but snicker at her wearing red like me.
Only, she's in a thick red cable knit sweater that swallows her form.
It even matches the lipstick she's wearing.
She's cute, adorable even, but she's not me.
She's nothing.
I smirk at her and lean on the cash register, arching my back and pressing my chest out in his full view. Unfortunately, Callum doesn't even see it, too focused on the register and ringing up the book. No matter, it hit its intended target.
Sophie's face crumbles, just slightly, before she takes a deep breath and something sharpens in her expression. She straightens her spine, raises her chin, and pulls the door open. The bell signals her arrival, which catches the man in front of me's attention instantly.
Callum looks over and... his entire face lights up.
"Sophie," Callum breathes, stepping around the counter, seeming to forget I even exist. I turn to watch as he walks right up to her, cupping her face, and she tears her eyes from me to look up to him. "Hi, sweet girl."
"Hi," she whispers before she reaches up and touches her hair, looking a little self-conscious. "Does... it look okay?"
"It looks so much like your hair," Callum says, eyes wide and warm as he looks at her. His tone is soft as he stares at her in awe. Seriously? "Wow, this looks perfect."
"Bailey picked it out," she responds, shrugging and looking a little sheepish. "Tonya tried to get me to do fun colors, but I just wanted one that made me look like me."
"So, one that makes you look like the most beautiful girl in the world?"
That statement, said as if it were gospel, makes something ugly twist inside me.
Sophie’s smile widens at him before she looks over at me. The happy expression completely melts from her face.
"What are you doing here?" Sophie directs her question to me, her voice sharp. Callum frowns at her tone, glancing back and forth between us.
"Baby?" he asks her, but she doesn't take her eyes off me.
Aw, she thinks she's being tough right now. Please. I'll chew her up and spit her out.
"What does it look like I'm doing, Sophie?" I ask her, making my voice saccharine and speaking slower as if she's stupid. Her brow furrows, and my smirk widens as I lean my hip against the register. "Buying a book in this lovely little store. Callum and I were just getting properly acquainted."
Callum turns to me and frowns, his eyes darkening slightly at my tone, but I ignore it, keeping my focus on Sophie.
"You know her?" Callum asks Sophie, who smiles bitterly, crossing her arms.
"Callum, meet Elise."
Recognition immediately flashes across Callum's expression as he glances back and forth between us.
"Elise?" he asks Sophie, and she just looks up at him. They seem to communicate silently for a moment, and she nods once.
Callum's entire demeanor changes, his body tenses as he turns to look at me. He seems to know exactly who I am, and with that, this curtain comes down on this entire performance.
I feel an angry flush creeping up my neck, the loss of control making my hands shake.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Callum asks me flatly.
The question catches me off guard.
"What?"
“Do you think people are toys? That you can pick them up, break them, and walk away?”
Callum's voice climbs with every word, and this time it’s me taking a step back.
"I... no, I jus—"
Control, get control!
Callum doesn't let me, he just keeps going, his voice a snarl now.
“What did you come here expecting? That I’d see you and forget Sophie exists? That I’m so weak I’d just... what, fold? For you?” His jaw tightens. “This some sick, twisted game you play?"
My mouth opens and closes, my throat constricting. Because he's got me, he sees right through me, and I'm tempted to just sprint out of this store right now.
“You really thought this was a game,” he continues, quieter now, which somehow makes it worse. “That you could walk in here and hurt her, just because you felt like it.”
He’s pointing to Sophie, who's looking at him, seemingly in shock at his ferocious anger.
"She's the sweetest, kindest goddamn woman I've ever known, and she's never done anything to you. And let's not get confused, Paul is just as complicit, but you—you knew about Sophie. That's... God, that's not just cruel. That's fucking evil. Why?"
Why did I do it? Because I wanted to, because I needed to. Because I saw Paul as a way out. Because I take what I want and I get my way. That's how it's been, and that's how it always should be. I did it because that's the way the world is.
According to my mother.
"Callum," Sophie says gently, laying a hand on his shoulder. His face softens slightly at her voice, and he turns to look at her, nodding once, like he's checking that she's okay and assuring her that he is as well. He lifts her hand to his mouth and kisses it, before turning back to me.
"You know what, I don't even care why. Because you're just a pathetic bully, Elise.
" Callum shakes his head and laughs, the sound holding no humor, "You know, you could have walked in here naked, and I wouldn't have been tempted.
Not for a second. I'm not Paul. I can recognize when I have something real and wonderful. "