Page 32 of Safer Together
~ Chapter Twelve ~
Angela
The smell of bacon wakes me the next morning. It invaded my dream just before I realize that it was, in fact, coming from the kitchen. I rub my eyes and slowly open them to find myself alone. I stretch out as long as possible, enjoying the immense amount of room in this king-size bed.
I roll over into the side Elliot had occupied last night and I bury my head in the pillow. I can still smell his scent and it’s intoxicating. An alluring mix of musk, spices, and sweat, it is uniquely Elliot. No one else in the world smells the way he does. While greedily taking in his scent my mind drifts to last night. The way he looked at me in my underwear, the way he kissed me on the tops of my breasts and ran his hands down my body, the way he walked away knowing it was the right thing to do, he was such a gentleman.
I am glad that I am alone, as I know that if he came in and looked at me now, I would look like a grinning lunatic. My mind then drifts to earlier in the evening and seeing Dylan. I clearly remember the look on his face. Confusion and shock were both written all over his features at seeing me, especially seeing me with his boss. I wonder for a moment what he thought? What else had he said to Elliot?
Elliot told me that Dylan told him that we knew each other from high school. It was a lie. Dylan is a few years older than I am. We actually met at a local café, when I stopped in to grab a sandwich for lunch. He, too, was there, and we got to chatting.
He sure as hell wasn’t going to tell his boss that he had abused me or that he should leave immediately due to a legal document, knowing that I was there. Had he told him anything else about me? Maybe he made up lies about me to Elliot?
I shake my head, trying to get away from this train of thought, instead remembering how proud I was of the way I handled myself. I was the one to walk away. I didn’t make a scene. In fact, I walked away and left my boyfriend to talk to my ex-fiancé. I roll over in bed to look at the ceiling and throw my arm over my eyes.
I allow myself a few more quiet moments in bed before following my nose out to the kitchen in search of that delicious smell.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and walk into the bathroom quickly checking how I look in the mirror. I pull a brush quickly through my hair and gargle with some mouthwash to freshen my breath. Sufficiently happy with the way I look, I leave the peace and quiet of the bedroom and peer around the corner of the door to see Elliot in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Considering he is a self-confessed burner of toast, my heart swells to twice its size seeing him in the kitchen.
“Smells amazing,” I call out as I make my way through the main family area and take a spot at one of the barstools in front of the breakfast bar. “Pancakes with bacon and maple syrup. You sure do know how to spoil a girl” I smile up at him and can see a spot of flour on his cheek as well as on the apron he is wearing.
“I wanted to cook you something special for breakfast, like you did for me last time you were here” he responds. He proceeds to then point out the bacon that is currently on a tray in the oven, keeping warm. “How did you sleep? I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asks.
I answer straight away. “I feel like I slept well. The smell of bacon woke me, but that’s all right. I’m hungry! How did you sleep? Have you been up for long?” My belly decides to growl at that precise moment. I get up and open the fridge and withdraw a carton of orange juice. As I am finding a glass to pour it into, Elliot starts speaking.
“I haven’t been up that long. Maybe forty-five minutes or so. And I had a beautiful girl in my arms all night, so I slept very well.” At the end of his speech, he turns away from a pancake bubbling in the frypan and kisses my cheek.
I pour us each a glass of orange juice and pluck two knives and forks from the drawer along with two placemats and set our places at the breakfast bar.
“Want me to help you?” I ask as he is concentrating on flipping the pancake. He just shakes his head in response.
“Okay then. I’m glad we have a delicious brekkie coming. I’ve got some shopping to do today and I’m going to need my energy. Will you be coming with me?”
With a successful flip under his belt he looks up at me and smiles, “I will be coming with you, but I’ll duck off and get a couple of items while you’re finishing your shopping. We can then meet up when we’re both done, if that works?”
“Sounds perfect. It’s going to be busy being Christmas Eve, so hopefully we can get in and get out quickly” I’m mentally making a list of items I will need to purchase with my limited funds. Maybe it was time to transfer some money from my trust fund? After all, who knows if I will ever need to buy a millionaire a present again. A $15 tie won’t suffice.
“Okay. Breakfast is served.” He passes the plate over to me. I must smile when I see that he has made a smiley face with the bacon on the pancake.
“You’re adorable. You know that, right?”
He chuckles, “I’ll take your word for it.”
He rounds the island himself and sits beside me with his own plate. We drizzle maple syrup over our meal, and I dig in. It is incredibly yummy. I eat quite quickly, catching Elliot staring at me from the corner of my eye. A few minutes later I am mopping the plate with my last piece of pancake when he speaks again. “You look like you enjoyed that.”
I place the piece of pancake in my mouth. “I did, thanks, baby. Remind me to thank Andrew when I see him next, for teaching you that recipe” I lean across and kiss his cheek, then slide off my chair and step behind him wrapping my arms lightly around the tops of his shoulders followed by a kiss to the top of his head. His hair is damp, it also smells freshly shampooed. It’s then that I notice he is already dressed for the day. I let him go, and wander into the bedroom, rifling through my suitcase to find a suitable outfit for shopping. I settle on jeans, a white long-sleeve turtleneck, and my black trench coat. I group it all together and walk into the bathroom to have a shower.
After my shower I feel invigorated. As I am applying my mascara a knock on the door sounds, I lean back and unlock the door and open it, returning to the mirror and the task at hand. “You look great, babe. I’m going to grab the car and I’ll meet you out front shortly.”
“Okay,” I reply. I see him walk away in the mirror. I apply one last brush of mascara and pack it all away.
I wander out to the bedroom and grab my phone, wallet and handbag. I deposit my wallet but keep my phone in hand. I log onto my bank app and look at my available funds in my everyday account, $1,687.96. I had already paid all my bills for the month and my next pay was due on the first of January. I exit that account and open my trust fund, $10,360,000 is sitting there. It had been there since the day I turned eighteen accruing interest annually. I hate having this money, as doing so meant that my grandfather had passed away, and I loved him so very much. He was a successful real estate entrepreneur who purchased properties that needed a little work and then rented them out. He never sold a property, not until he was diagnosed with prostate cancer. That’s when he decided to start liquidating his portfolio of close to thirty properties, all in Manhattan. He then took that money and created trust funds for me, his only grandchild, and the remainder was left to his two children, my father and his sister.
I have always told myself I would never need his money, that I would do this all by myself, and one day I would own a portfolio of properties like Grandpa. However, I wouldn’t do it with his money. I would leave that money for my own children, if I had any.
I am staying true to my word. If I did indeed transfer some money across, it wasn’t being spent on me. It was going to be spent on Elliot, my kind-hearted boyfriend.
However, if I did indeed purchase him something expensive, he would then know my secret. Would it be so bad if I told him that I had money? Then again, wasn’t that cat out of the bag now, anyway? He did see my apartment last night, and I confirmed that I didn’t have a mortgage on it.
