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“We’ve been taught all our lives about keeping up appearances, and he doesn’t want to be the one who ruins the perfect family. For all our parent’s sins, it would break their hearts if we stopped trying.”
“Would it? Or would it just break their perfect little fake existence?”
Elle frowned. If her brown eyes held bullets, Charlie would be riddled with them by now. “It’s not your business how I choose to deal with my parents. They’ve never beaten us or abused us.”
Charlie blinked slowly, and her chest felt hollow as Elle used the lowest bar possible to discuss her parents. Charlie’s mum might be a self-absorbed actress and she might occasionally ask Charlie why she wasn’t using her talents in the same field, but she cared for Charlie and supported her even when she didn’t understand why Charlie did burlesque instead of acting.
For Charlie, there wasn’t much difference between the two creative forms of expression. Great burlesque dancers were brilliant actors, and besides, her job was more than just the dancing. She loved teaching classes. She adored organising each evening’s event, especially as she got sneak previews of all the new talent. She had a slightly tense relationship with her mother merely because she was, well, herself, but Charlie would never stoop to saying something as wild as implying her mum was a good person because she’d never abused her. What? Make it make sense. Elle’s parents must be complete shitheads if that was the benchmark she used to excuse their behaviour.
Elle stood with her hands on her hips, still glaring at Charlie, as if this discussion was her fault and not the fault of Elle’s shitty parents. “So what if they have high standards for us, that’s not enough to throw away a whole relationship.”
“Okay,” Charlie whispered. If she let the urge to keep asking questions take over, Elle was going to blow this up into a big fight, and Charlie wanted to avoid that. “All families are kind of fucked up, so you just keep doing what you think is best.”
“What does that mean?”
Charlie held up her hands. “No judgement. Fuck. My mum just threw me to the paparazzi to get more press for her career. I have some idea about how family can be selfish.” There was nothing like a bit of media focus and a week away from work to give her too much time to think about whether her entire existence was shallow and pointless. She loved burlesque. There was just one problem. Ever since she’d been locked down away from her audience, she’d had too much time to contemplate who she was without people cheering for her. And the answers she’d found so far did her no credit. She was empty and shallow.
Elle’s mouth twitched at the corners, almost into the beginnings of a grin. “Fair enough. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?” All the fury had left Elle’s voice. Charlie was left with two options: walk away before she admitted some of her real feelings to Elle, or kiss her as a distraction. There really only was one option. She strode towards Elle and wrapped her hands around her head.
“I’m fine.” Charlie leaned down and kissed Elle, who responded immediately.
They fell into their usual dance, with Elle stretching up on the tips of her toes as she pressed her body against Charlie. Charlie stroked her tongue deep into Elle’s mouth, savouring her taste, with an extra hint of salt today. The beautiful softness of her lips as they moved against hers. Every time they kissed, Elle would demand more. She’d control the pace and depth of their kiss, and Charlie let her because there was something incredible about the way Elle grew in confidence through their kisses. The hesitance she often showed when they talked disappeared as she stroked her hands down Charlie’s spine and gripped her arse with firm fingers. Their height difference only enhanced the way Elle took over the dance of their mouths. Each touch from Elle sent heat spiralling along her skin, burning through her veins, until she wanted more. She wanted to be bent over the bonnet of the car and fucked with a strap on, or have Elle’s mouth on her. She shuddered. Not today.
“I’ve got my period.” Charlie hated to put a stop to this kiss but from the way Elle’s hands were exploring, she’d get a bit of a surprise soon, and that wasn’t very cool at all.
“Oh.”
“We can still kiss.”
Elle slid her hands up to Charlie’s waist. “We certainly can. You are very accomplished as a kisser.”
“Why thank you.” Charlie would’ve bowed except her body was pressed up against Elle, so she winked instead. For some unknown reason, the wink felt wrong, like she was faking it. Instead of bending to kiss Elle again, she pulled her closer into a hug and nuzzled her face against Elle’s neck. She was so soft and smooth, and her skin smelled like salt and fabric softener and her very own perfume with a hint of florals.
Elle ran one hand up Charlie’s spine until she cupped the back of Charlie’s head. “It’s going to be okay.”
Charlie didn’t need to ask. “I know. It was just my mum making the best of her career. It’s not easy being an actress on a show like Chelsea Avenue. Characters get written out for the most minor reasons, and to have an opportunity to act alongside a high profile actor is something she needs to make the most of.”
“Even if it meant hurting you?” Elle’s whisper was a soft breeze against her ear.
“She didn’t hurt me. She just caused a temporary interruption to my life.”
Elle brushed her thumb back and forth over Charlie’s neck and Charlie wished they could lie in bed together and soothe each other so gently. She almost jerked away; since when did she want to be cuddled? What was wrong with her?
“This has been nice and everything, but I’d better get back to work.” She pushed away from Elle and walked away without a backward glance. All that talk of Elle’s crappy parents had left her feeling sympathetic or something, and she’d bloody spoken about her own stuff. She never shared with her hook ups. Mixing sex and friendship and emotions was a path to misery. Thinking about asking Elle to be exclusive with her was an aberration. She ought to follow her mum’s example and keep friendship and sex separate. Life was much less messy that way.
Chapter 10
Today was the big day. The sun was barely up when she’d left the house this morning and now Elle stood outside the front door at Seraph’s, waiting for Walter to let her in as they’d arranged. She hadn’t seen Charlie since they’d kissed desperately a couple of weeks ago. Maybe it was for the best; having Charlie leave first was odd and Elle had tried not to dwell on it. She’d failed of course because nothing about the way they were interacting at the moment was the same as before. Maybe they weren’t compatible when they weren’t fucking each other senseless? Elle wanted to bury her face in her hands; how had it come to this? She wanted Charlie for more than sex, wanted to get to know her, wanted to hug her when she was upset, wanted to be the one Charlie sheltered with when her mother, bloody Lottie Alcott-James, was in the media and the paparazzi wanted a piece of Charlie.
Elle’s phone dinged with an incoming message.
Beth: What time did you say the builders were turning up?
Elle: 8am
Beth: Fuck. So early! Walter will let them in.
Elle: They wanted to start at 6.
Beth: Ergh. We close only a few hours before that.
The plans for Seraph’s had been approved, not just by Beth, but by all the relevant authorities. A text from Beth yesterday had confirmed the grant money had arrived, and the building contractors were going to start today. Technically, Elle didn’t need to oversee the works, but this was her first non-residential project, which was a much better reason to head into Seraph’s than submitting to an irrational need to see Charlie. Every day, she’d written a quick text to say hi and then deleted it, because what would she say next? Sorry for finding it easier to argue with you than stand up to my parents?
Elle: I know. That’s why I negotiated a later start time.
Since starting this project, she’d spent more time talking to Charlie than ever before, and Elle wanted more than the little glimpses that Charlie showed her. The problem with wanting such a thing was that she would have to become more open with Charlie too, and that whole discussion about her parents had pissed her off no end. It hadn’t been until she’d been chatting to Willow the next day that she realised why.
Charlie had skirted far too close to the truth when she’d mentioned that Elle didn’t have to succumb to her parent’s demands. Of course, Elle couldn’t walk away just yet; she still owed a debt to her parents for D&Y Designs. They’d wanted her to name her business after them; Denbigh And Yadav Designs. It was bad enough that her parents had saddled her with a double-barrelled name. She’d protested, saying that it wasn’t worth the risk to the family name if the business failed. Businesses failed all the time for all sorts of reasons, and it was only sensible to plan for such a thing. When her parents had threatened to withdraw the loan over the name, she’d almost walked away. Had she really been willing to wait another three years in her boring job doing the filing for Blessings Office Furniture? No. She couldn’t waste her life any longer, so she’d found a name that satisfied them without being about them and taken the loan. One day, she’d figure out an alternative for D&Y, and until then, she’d have to deal with her parents taking all the credit for her success and nearly having naming rights. She almost had the loan paid off. Soon, she might be able to face a future where she could be brave and maybe... just maybe, listen to Charlie’s advice. She knew her parent’s demands weren’t rational, it wasn’t what loving parents did for their children. Loving parents would help without such egotistic conditions. Wouldn’t they?
The door opened and a blurry eyed Walter stood inside wearing a pink dressing gown that barely covered anything.
“Good morning.” Elle spluttered at the unexpected sight of all that brown skin and tattoo covered masculine muscles. Fucking hell. A thin strand of pink satin tied around Walter’s waist was the only thing keeping the gown together and covering his... um... She dared not look lower, even though her cheeks were blazing hot. How embarrassing. He must know she was blushing at the sight of him.
“Come in. I’m going back to bed.” He walked off and Elle caught an accidental glimpse of his arse. His thighs were covered in impressive tattoos, and she closed her eyes for a while. It wouldn’t do to be caught staring at a married man. She didn’t feel the pull of lust or attraction, only bemusement at his choice of gown, and admiration for the confident way he didn’t seem to care what anyone thought of him.
The flutter in her chest came and went. Was everyone who worked at Seraph’s so confident in their own skin? She couldn’t imagine what that would be like. Imagine just being comfortable enough to walk around virtually naked and not caring who saw? She’d only felt like that once. With Charlie, here behind the stage in one of the many hallways, when she’d pulled down her pants and enjoyed the way Charlie licked her, kneading her arse with those long elegant fingers, until she’d come. She shivered. Coming here was a mistake.
With a deep breath, she pushed away all those pesky feelings and stepped inside. This was work; she needed to make this job a success to pay off her debt. She closed the front door, then walked through Seraph’s checking that everything was ready for today’s demolition. The builders were due in five minutes at the back door, so she made her way there. As she went past Charlie’s office, a soft murmur filled the air and she peeked into the room. Charlie was fast asleep in her chair with a blanket wrapped around her. She couldn’t possibly be comfortable, sleeping like that. Elle coughed and Charlie cracked open one eye.
“Hey.”
“Good morning, Charlie. Should you be sleeping like that?”
“I’m fine.” Charlie stood up—an elegant motion like a dancer arising from a tucked position into a tall stance—and the blanket fell to the ground, exposing a lot of bare skin. In less than a minute, Elle had seen more naked flesh than she had in months. Charlie was so incredibly gorgeous—standing there in the remnants of last night’s outfit—far more impressive than Walter’s muscular tattooed thighs, and the odd comparison sent a blast of radiant heat across Elle’s skin. She gulped.
“Um...”
“I hope you brought coffee?” Just like Walter, Charlie didn’t care about who saw her body. Elle could only dream of having that level of confidence.
“No, but once I let the builders in, I can grab us some from across the road.”
“Great. Hold on, did you say builders?”
“Yes. They start the demolition today.”
Charlie growled under the breath and grabbed the blanket. “Shit. I don’t usually sleep here but last night sucked. Beth was pacing around the place and everyone was on edge. Poor Reiko dropped a whole case of vodka bottles and glass went everywhere.”
“Oh no.”
“Yeah, basically a shit night, and I ended up working extra hours to help clean up and stuff. I thought I’d grab a quick sleep here before going home.”
Elle nodded. “Beth was probably nervous about today. It’s going to be alright. Maybe you should go home and get some proper sleep.”
“Yeah, probably, but then I’ll miss all the fun.” Charlie threw the blanket on her chair and started putting on some clothes. There was a loud banging on the back door and Elle dragged in a deep breath.
“That’ll be the builders.” She marched down the narrow hallway to the back door and opened it, expecting to see the foreman, Siddarth, not ... him. Campbell, her ex. Her stomach dropped; he was the last person she wanted to deal with today.
“Hi Elle.”
Like a fool, she said, “Hi.”
“Life has really gone downhill for you. You’re a slutty dancer now, really? Good thing I dumped your fat arse.” Campbell instantly proved why she’d been so pathetic to stay with him. He used to say mean stuff like that all the time and she’d let him because ... Well, because her parents had trained her to put up with insults. No more.
“Fuck off, Campbell. Where is Siddarth?”
“He’ll be here soon.”
“Good. Then I can get him to fire your lazy arse.” Elle hadn’t needed the reminder for why she’d dodged a bullet when he’d dumped her. Why had she put up with that crap? Why hadn’t she dumped him? She’d given him all her time and been grateful for every scrap of attention he paid her. Fuck, she’d been so desperate and unhappy. He wasn’t even that cute, not with that mean sneer on his face.
“You are in charge here? Nah. Move out of the way. Let us in.”
Elle glared at him, determined never to be so pathetic again. “No. You’ll have to wait for your boss.” She closed the door quickly before Campbell had time to react. A long time ago, he’d taken advantage of her lack of confidence. Never again. She might not have the same level of cockiness that Walter, Charlie, and everyone who worked here had, but she owned her own business now. She wasn’t going to let a shithead like Campbell trample over here again. She had some pride now.
“What the fuck was that?”
“My ex being a toad.” Elle’s neck prickled. “That was so embarrassing. Ergh, what did I ever see in him?”
Charlie laughed. “Everyone has a few regrets in their past.”
“Do you?” Elle shouldn’t be curious. Surely Charlie didn’t have a regret as awful as Campbell, although she really hoped so. Not for Charlie’s sake, but just so she didn’t have to feel so ... alone and miserable as she confronted her terrible ex.
“There was the sword swallower at the Edinburgh Festival. What the fuck was I thinking? Just because a bloke can shove a long metal thing down his throat doesn’t mean he has any other skills. And then there was the time in Paris after the neo-burlesque contest ... Fuck, that must be nearly eight years ago now. I managed to break my arm trying to have sex on a trapeze.” Charlie rolled up the sleeve of her shirt. “See, I still have a scar.”
“Lucky you didn’t fall on your head.” Elle’s mouth seemed determined to say daft things and she wanted to sink under the floor and disappear. What she’d actually wanted to say was something sympathetic, except that would have told Charlie how much she was starting to care for her, and given their last conversation, that was probably the last thing Charlie wanted to hear. Was admiration for Charlie’s confidence the same thing as maybe, probably, falling in love with her? No, it couldn’t be that.
“What do I do about him?” Once more, Elle proved to the world—to Charlie—how she couldn’t deal with conflict. This was her work, her own business, surely she could figure out what to do about a small hiccup. Having Campbell here might feel like a disaster. It didn’t have to be. She squared her shoulders in an attempt to ready herself to open the door and sort it out herself.
“I’ll get Walter. Sometimes having a huge bloke around is useful.” Charlie’s solution was better. Having backup would bolster her fragile bravado. “Then you can make him work.”
“That’s a good plan.” By the time she’d finished speaking, Charlie was already speaking to Walter on the phone.
“Sweet. He’ll be down in a minute or so. I bet that really pissed him off.”
“Who?” Elle twisted her hands together to avoid rubbing her face in a dead giveaway of her internal battle to pretend to be cool about this dreadfully embarrassing situation.
“Your ex. You know when you slammed the door in his face.”
Elle chuckled. “Yeah. I’m not looking forward to opening it again.”
“Which is why we require Walter. Let the strapping big security guy do his job.”
“What job do you need me to do?” Walter asked.
“Seriously, you came wearing Steph’s dressing gown?” Charlie threw her head back and laughed, and the sound warmed Elle all the way through. Until then, she hadn’t realised how cold the conversation with Campbell had made her. “Oh my God, that is absolute gold.”
“Who says it’s Steph’s dressing gown?” Walter raised one eyebrow. “Now what do you need from me?”
Giggles took over and Elle leaned against the wall with her hand clamped over her mouth, unable to breathe at Walter’s retort. She was laughing so hard that her belly hurt and she barely heard Charlie tell Walter about Campbell.
