Page 40 of Had To Be You

“Are you listening to yourself? You sound like a nimrod. Falling for someone doesn’t have to be a distraction.”

I run both hands down my face. I can’t figure out how this is happening. I’ve spent the last three nights with Ellie in my bed and I liked it. Correction. I fucking loved it. I can’t stop the thoughts of Ellie that linger in my mind all day long. The way her breath hitches when I tease her, the way my body tingles under her challenging gaze. And the sex. It’s never been better with anyone.

And here I go again, mind wandering to thoughts of Ellie. I should be thinking of my caseload, not Ellie’s mouth, or Ellie’s legs or the dirty things I want to do to her. I can’t lose focus on my practise because I don’t know how to make this work.

Thirty minutes later, Parker flicks his gym towel at the back of my thigh like a rubber band and tips his head to the door.

“My fiancé awaits me. Gotta jet,” he says, grabbing his gym bag, heading for the door. He tosses one last look my way, “Figure things out with Ellie. Either way, I’m here if you need me.”

The girl I slept with last night flashes through my mind again. Can I balance both my career and a relationship? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Is she? Am I willing to take that chance?

But by the time I’ve finished my workout, I’m seeing things a little clearer. Ellie Reeves is the first girl I’ve ever wanted more of. More lunches by the pool, more early morning Sunday coffee chats around her kitchen table. More dinner dates, even more dancing.

I know I want more.

The question is… does she want the same?

Chapter Sixteen

Ellie

To: Ellie Reeves

From: Darlene Reeves

Subject: Wedding.

Hi ells bells. Had to tell you the most wonderful story. I met a psychic last night who told me I was a snake charmer in a former life…isn’t that wonderful? She also told me you are going to get married this year. I better be the first to know. I love you.

--Mom

I’m standing at the worktable at Bloom surrounded by a mountain of eucalyptus stems, thinking about the email I received from my mom this morning. I’m not sure whether to laugh, cry or take this as a sign. My mother has visited psychics for years. She’s spoken to dead relatives through them, sought advice, treated them like her own personal therapist. I take it all with a grain of salt. It’s not that I’m a naysayer, exactly. I can appreciate that they help my mom make sense of her life, and every now and then she finds a psychic who gets it right, hits the nail on the head. It’s just not my jam to believe anyone can foresee the future. And me, getting married this year… the chances are nil.

I turn my attention back to what I should be doing, shearing the ends of eucalyptus stems then placing them in a bucket of water. Leah is standing in front of the coolers helping an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair choose a bouquet of flowers for his wife. I overhear the man tell Leah that he needs just the right amount of tulips. And an equal amount of freesia. And the tulips need to be pink. Not fuchsia or pale pink, just pink. I chuckle, catching Leah’s eyes from across the room, mouthing good luck with that. Leah will be just fine, though. This is the kind of challenge she thrives on. Mr. It-needs-to-be-exactly-perfect will leave Bloom a very satisfied customer.

I’m up to my eyeballs in eucalyptus when my phone lights up on the table, catching my eye. My heart sinks. It’s the email response I’ve been waiting for. With trembling hands, I quickly swipe the screen to read it.

To: Ellie Reeves

From: Simon Pearce

Subject: Re: We need to talk.

Ms. Reeves,

We are unable to help you with your request. A meeting, at this time, is out of the question.

Best, Simon Pearce

Dammit. He’s such an asshole. Why won’t they let me see him? Adrenaline pumps through my veins. This isn’t good enough. This needs to happen. I need to see him, and I refuse to be pushed around. Slipping into the back office, I scroll my phone for his number and make the call.

“Simon Pearce,” he answers in an overly confident, arrogant tone. Fuck, I can’t stand this man.

Pacing the floor of the back office, I straighten my shoulders. I’m immediately on the defensive after hearing his voice. “Mr. Pearce, this is Ellie Reeves. I need to speak to you.”

“Ellie. Did you not receive my email? There’s nothing I can help you with. A meeting is not happening. It’s not a good time.”

And here we fucking go.

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