Page 7 of Willows and Waterlilies

“See you tomorrow,” she says and gives me a smile before walking away and leaving me to face Mr Earle Grey alone.

Elijah

Christ, this is a ludicrous idea. This girl is going to think I’m a stalker; a crazy nut job who likes to prey on vulnerable young women. I don’t even know why I’m putting myself through this after the reaction I got from Kelly. She out and out accused me of lying, of interfering with her marriage because I’ve always hated her cheating asshole of a husband. I should leave her to it, let her sleep in her bed made up of lies and deceit. However, I then spoke to my mother, the woman who I respect and love more than anyone else in the world. You could call me a mama’s boy and I’d be nothing but proud of the fact. The downside is, she only has to give me a sigh to get me to do whatever she wants.

“Elijah, darling,” she had said sadly, “she might be acting foolishly, but she is still your little sister and my baby. I don’t want her to end up like me, searching for lipstick stains and sniffing at his shirts for the smell of perfume that isn’t yours. Cheap, sickly-sweet scents that tell you he’s gone after someone who is the complete opposite of who you are.”

“Mom, what can I do if she won’t listen to me?” I had pleaded with her.

“Make her!” she had said with a hint of exasperation. “Elijah, you have made yourself into the successful businessman and lawyer that you are today. I’m sure you’ll be able to come up with something to make her see sense.”

So, here I am, chasing after the one person who can validate my accusation because I couldn’t think of anything else. Having said that, I must admit, the notion of seeing the poor girl who I had inadvertently crushed today, was strangely appealing. Beyond the fact that I have found her ridiculously attractive since the first day I saw her in my regular coffee shop, her reaction to finding out someone had played her for a fool, proves she is a woman who still believes in monogamy and self-respect. She is someone who is worth giving your all to, someone you can trust because she demands just as much from you.

The door finally opens to reveal a tired-looking version of her. She cried today, I can tell. It has me feeling guilty for coming back to make it all the harder for her. I offer her an awkward smile and a scratch of my neck, just to prove how smooth and debonair I am. Meanwhile, she clutches hold of her laptop bag with both hands and begins walking up to me with a sheepish smile of her own. Her cheeks are beautifully flushed, and her hair is bouncing around in a simple ponytail.

“Evening,” I begin, momentarily forgetting what I was going to say.

“Hi,” she says as she comes to a stop just a few feet away from me. “Do you have some more uplifting messages for me?”

“Thankfully, no,” I laugh nervously, “no new messages today.”

“I’m sorry,” she says with a wince, “I’m just cranky because, well, you know.”

“Which you have every right to be,” I reassure her. “I came here to offer to take you out for a drink, to make up for ruining your day. Besides, I promised you I would if I ever found out your real name…Ellie.”

“True, but I dunno,” she replies, looking genuinely conflicted over the idea, “isn’t that kind of weird?”

“Not for me, but I totally understand if it is for you,” I tell her. “If it makes you feel any better, it can just be a drink with no strings attached. Just two newly single people seeking solace in a glass of wine and the company of someone who is also suffering from being alone on yet another Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh?” she says, now looking curious. “And who broke your handsome heart?”

And now, it’s my turn to blush; is she flirting with me?

“Not broke, exactly, just cracked a little,” I lie. “Besides, it was years ago, the wound is not as fresh as yours.”

“Still wounded, though,” she says, “it sucks, doesn’t it?” I nod my head and we remain in silence for a little while, as if taking the time to contemplate our dire situations. “Fuck it, let’s do this!”

“Excellent!” I beam at her just as her cousin and another version of him walk out through revolving doors. They eye me with curiosity, so I offer my hand for them to shake, while we exchange names. The one from before explains how I know Lucius Hastings, and we pretty much have the same limited conversation as before.

I already know who Cameron Carter is, for not many people in this town don’t know who he is. The small-town boy with a talent for computers, and who invested his grandmother’s inheritance to help build his own company, is a story well known in my line of business. I’ve never met him before, though I’ve heard good things, but never seen him in the flesh. There’s definitely a family resemblance between the three, especially now he and Ellie are having a conversation through eye contact alone. He's asking her if she needs him to intervene. She’s shaking her head and telling him to keep out of it. He’s not convinced.

“Is everything ok?” I venture before he suffers from a bout of cramp between his eyebrows.

“Yes! Yes it is,” Ellie answers with determination. “Shall we go?”

“Wait a minute,” Cameron says, now stepping in closer. “I’m sure you’re an upstanding guy and all that, but considering what happened today, I hope you don’t mind me asking what your intentions are?”

“Oh, my God!” Ellie gasps, slapping her hand against his chest with a blush creeping all over her face. I can’t help staring at her glowing cheeks, there’s something hypnotic about them. “I’m sorry, Elijah, but Cam suffers from a knight-in-shining-armor complex.”

I notice his brother nodding along in agreement with her while the man himself tuts and rolls his eyes. The three of them together make me feel a little sad over the fact my own sister won’t believe me about her cheating bastard of a husband.

“Not at all,” I reply with my token lawyer smile of reassurance. “I mean Ellie no harm and this is simply a drink. I have no other expectations beyond that.”

“There, you see?” she says, turning toward her cousin who still looks less than convinced. His brother seems to be suitably mollified, and Ellie appears to be more than happy to come with me. Guilt begins to eat away at me, and I know I need to get this done and over with before it fully consumes me.

“What if Ellie agrees to message you in say, one hour?” I offer, to which he frowns at her again, as though checking one more time to see if she’s sure about me.

“I am a grown woman, Cameron!” she huffs at his furrowed brow. “But I will text you in one hour, on the dot, if it makes you feel better.”

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