Page 22 of After the Red Carpet
“Just don’t put your dreams on hold for some guy, even if he is your Prince Charming.”
“I’m not. And he’s hardlysomeguy,” Ella retorted.
“I’ll give you that. He’s a bona fide movie star, and while I never use the word ‘dashing,’ it certainly fits the bill in this case.”
Ella giggled. “What I meant is that he’s the one I love. Love changes things.”
“Just don’t let it change you,” Marni cautioned.
Ella huffed. “I used to be terrified of that. I’m not anymore. We even set the date for our wedding. Actually . . .” Before she could finish her thought, a bolt of fabric caught her eye. “Ooh, that one is perfect!”
THAT AFTERNOON, FINN CAME HOMEand saw half a dozen large shopping bags in the living room. He beamed, thinking Ella must have bought some clothes and her side of the closet would no longer be so bare. He followed the noise coming from the kitchen to find every countertop covered with mixing bowls and measuring cups, and Ella and Joyce cheerfully gabbing away. “What’s all this?” he asked.
Ella looked up from the dough she was kneading, a streak of flour across her forehead. “Hi, love. We’re just prepping things for tomorrow night.”
He furrowed his brow in confusion.
“For the dinner party, silly,” she explained.
“I thought we were doing a barbecue out back,” he said.
“We are.” Ella turned to Joyce and said, “Would you mind taking over for me for a minute? I want to show Finn everything I bought.” She wiped her hands on a dish towel and took Finn’s arm, leading him to the living room. “I’ve had the busiest couple of days, getting everything ready for tomorrow night.”
“But baby, what about your next book? You wanted to start writing. I don’t want to take time away from what’s important to you.”
“Meeting your friends is important to me,” she replied. “Look at this incredible fabric. Isn’t it stunning? I’m going to use it to create a runner down the center of the table,” she said, emptying one of the large bags onto the couch. “Oh,and you have to see the colorful paper lanterns. Joyce said the gardeners can string them up over the table tomorrow,” she added, sifting through the bags to find them.
“I don’t understand why you bought all of this,” he said forcefully.
She turned to him, a mixture of hurt and worry on her face. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “You told me I could use the credit card and . . .”
“No, baby, that’s not what I mean. You can use it for absolutely anything you want. I just thought we were hosting a simple barbecue tomorrow night and that we’d have Joyce throw a few steaks on the grill and call it a day.”
“When you suggested grilling, I came up with the perfect theme,” Ella said, sounding excited again. “I’m calling it ‘Morocco to Monaco.’ I love the alliteration. Dinner will be a grilled Moroccan-inspired feast, and for dessert we’re making two French tarts, which I figured we could eat around the firepit. Let me show you the takeaway gifts,” she continued, rifling through the bags again.
“Ella, I didn’t intend for you to do all this work. I . . .”
“Oh, here they are,” she said.
“Damn it, Ella! I didn’t want any of this! It was supposed to be a simple barbecue!” he snapped.
Ella gasped. “I . . . I . . .” she stuttered as her eyes filled with tears. She would no longer meet his eyes.
“That’s not what I meant, baby,” Finn said, softening his voice. “I’m sorry. I only meant that I never wanted you to go to all this trouble.”
“I need to go help Joyce,” she murmured, walking away.
“Ella . . .” he called, but she didn’t turn around.
He collapsed onto the couch and dropped his head into his hands, lost in a whirl of shame and remorse.
WHEN ELLA RETURNED TO THE KITCHEN,Joyce was hunched over a recipe book, reading some instructions. “So, it says . . .” She heard Ella sniffle and turned to look. “Oh, Ella, what’s wrong, dear?”
“Finn isn’t happy,” she replied, choking back tears. “I guess he thinks this is all stupid or something.”
“Oh, I’m sure he doesn’t think that,” Joyce said, wrapping her arms around her in a comforting embrace.
Ella hugged her for a long moment, sniffled, and composed herself. “I really should get back to the dough,” she muttered, entirely deflated.
