Page 8 of Suddenly Desired
“No,” she said. She turned to Lissa, watching her boss work the coffee machine. Lissa was in her fifties and was as much a kindly aunt as a boss. Ellie felt like she could tell her anything, even with Josh simpering next to her. “Something happened.”
“The curse?” Lissa said. “I’m sorry, Ellie.”
“It wasn’t me,” she started. “There was something—”
“I always said you have to be more confident,” Josh interrupted, brushing something off her shoulder, his fingers lingering.
Ellie took a step away from him, but he closed in, oblivious to her efforts to escape. “You should have listened to me. When you come to your senses and we get back together I’ll show you the best way to succeed in a job interview. Consider it a perk.”
This was coming from the thirty-three-year-old man who still worked in his dad’s music shop and hadn’t been to a single job interview in his life.
“Interviews are all about personality,” he went on, still oblivious. “You’ve got one — you just have to let it show instead of keeping it hidden all the time. They probably just thought you were shy or something.”
Her patience stretched thin, she pushed past him, heading for the stock-room-slash-staff room. She reached out to close the door behind her, but Josh was right there, still going on about her faults. It had been one of his favourite things to do when they were together, and it seemed that being apart was no barrier to his arrogance. She held out a hand to stop him. “I need to get changed, Josh.”
His eyes ran over her, his wet lips peeling open into a smile.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before, babe.”
Gross!She slammed the door in his face.How did I ever think he was attractive, or kind, or. . .urgh.
Oh right, the music. The stupid, perfect music.
She could still picture the first time she’d walked into his family’s shop, years ago. He’d been sitting at a grand piano in the corner, playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata like it was the only thing that mattered. It had been mesmerising, and for a moment, she’d thought maybe he was too.
She’d asked him about lessons and he’d offered his services on the spot, all charm and confidence. What had started off as a half-hour class every week in the back room of the shop had fast grown into a full-blown relationship. At first, he’d seemed so perfect for her. Sure, he hadn’t been her usual type, but he liked the same music, the same movies, the same books. And the way he played the piano? It felt like a sign. Anyone who could play as well as he did, had to be a good person, right?
For a while she believed it. But after a year, the cracks had started to show. It was her mum who’d started plucking at the strings, unravelling what turned out to be an elaborate sham. One evening, during dinner at the family farmhouse, her mum had pulled the dust sheet from the old piano, opened up some yellowing music books and asked Josh to give them a good, old-fashioned singsong. He’d gone bright red and made every excuse under the sun, eventually storming off in a huff, claiming that they were putting him under too much pressure.
After that, it hadn’t taken Ellie long to work out that Josh couldn’t play the piano at all, other than a few pieces he’d learned off by heart. He certainly couldn’t read a single note of music. He’d been studying online piano courses every week then regurgitating the information to her during their classes, while posing as a master tutor. And all the things he’d claimed to be interested in he’d just lifted from her Heartbook account. He was a fraud, and a conman, and she’d fallen hook, line and sinker for it.
The worst part, though? It had taken her another year to work up the courage to end the relationship. Every time she’d tried, he’d found an excuse to keep it going:It’s just your hormones, you’re overreacting. You can’t leave me, we’re renting this place together and we’ll lose so much money. I read an article saying that keeping things from your significant other was a guaranteed way of adding spice. I won’t cope without you, I don’t think I could even go on living.
And she’d believed him. Every. Single. Time.
The breaking point came one morning when she caught him logged into her Heartbook account, typing out messages asher. He wasn’t even subtle about it — replying to her friends, declining party invites, deleting conversations. Worse, he’d been intercepting emails from companies she’d applied to, quietly sabotaging her chances at job interviews.
“I’m doing it for your own good,” he’d told her, furious atherfor being furious at him. “I know what’s best for you, I always have. If you don’t want my help, then you don’t deserve me.”
That was it. That had been the final straw.
Ellie slung her bag on the hook and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to push the frustration away. The worst part was that she still hadn’t managed to kick Josh out of her life. He was utterly convinced that they were destined to get back together and with her luck — and thanks to the Ellie Mae Curse — he was probably right.
“No,” she muttered under her breath, unbuttoning her dress and shrugging out of it. She hung it neatly next to her bag and glanced at her reflection in the full-length mirror wedged awkwardly between the shelves of coffee supplies.
Her mum always said she was beautiful, but Ellie never saw it. She had always been too short for supermodel status, and though her legs were toned from long shifts on her feet, Ellie always focused on what she saw as her flaws. Her eyes were toobig, framed behind thick glasses she’d worn since she was six, her lips too full, her nose too freckled, and her hair — a mass of thick waves — seemed to have a life of its own. If she squinted — or took her glasses off — she could almost convince herself she was cute. But most of the time she just felt . . . average.
She exhaled and reached for her uniform, and as she did her thoughts snagged on something unexpected. That moment, earlier, when she’d collided with Blake Fielding. Now where hadthatcome from? Even now she cringed at the memory — dropping her phone, tipping the contents of her bag at his feet — but the thought of him didn’t make her feel bad. Not at all.
In fact, she was struggling to get him out of her head. He’d been something else. It wasn’t just the jawline, or his sun-kissed skin, or even the sparkling blue oceans of his eyes. It wasn’t his tousled hair, or the impressive physique barely contained beneath the cut of his suit. No, it had been something else, something about the warmth in his voice and the softness in his expression that she couldn’t forget.
Thanks for listening, he’d said.
A scorch of electricity travelled up her body as she remembered the way he’d smiled at her. It was the kind of smile that set her skin tingling with anticipation. Even now, standing in the cool stock room in nothing but her underwear, her face was burning up at the thought of it. She’d been face to face with Blake Fielding, she’d touched Blake Fielding, she’d been close enough to reach out and kiss—
Behind her, the door opened. Ellie yelped, wrapping her hands around herself.
She spun around. “Josh, I swear—”
