Shout Out To My Ex: (The Ever After Agency Book 2)
Shout Out To My Ex: Chapter 31

I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

Cassie cringes at her desk, shrinking before my eyes, but when I look to Poppy, she steadily meets my gaze. She must break this sort of news all the time.

I cannot think of one thing to say. And I have no idea how to feel. Just a few minutes ago, I was riding the high of tricking the paps and now…

Snapshots of the past few weeks begin to flicker through my mind at an alarming rate.

Leo at the restaurant looking like a tosser… Him bringing my favourite flowers to my show… Acknowledging me at the end of his show… ‘Coincidentally’ sharing a berth with him on the Eurostar… The photoshoot! Oh my god – wrapped up in Leo’s arms like that, wanting him…

Fuck.

Every moment Leo and I have shared in the past month has been part of a big, ugly, fucked-up lie. And that’s not even taking into account Leo’s lie – him pretending he didn’t know who he was meeting that night.

‘Elle, say something,’ Cassie pleads.

‘What exactly? What can I possibly say?’ The brain fog starts to lift, and one question pops into my head. ‘Actually, I do know. How could you lie to me like that?’

‘It wasn’t a lie⁠—’

I glare at her. ‘Well, you’re right about that. It wasn’t a lie; it was a whole pack of them.’

‘I was trying to help…’ she adds feebly. ‘I just wanted you to be happy.’

‘Elle,’ Poppy interjects, her voice soft and calm.

When I turn on her, there it is, that steady gaze. Her tone, that look… It’s infuriating! I’m not a spooked horse that needs soothing. She’s not the bloody Elle whisperer.

I stare at her, waiting for this magical explanation that will make everything okay, including that my sister – the one person on the entire planet who I trust implicitly – has deceived me.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘We both are. And as misguided as it may seem right now, your sister engaged my agency to help bring you and Leo back together. She was thinking solely about your happiness.’

‘And then you manipulated me.’

‘I’m not going to play semantics. It’s fair for you to characterise what I did as manipulation. But when it comes to Cassie, please remember that her motives were pure.’

I cast a sidelong look at Cassie. She’s miserable – her face drawn, her shoulders slumped… It pains me terribly to see her like this. It will be difficult to stay cross with her – she’s my sister.

Poppy on the other hand…

‘Which parts did you orchestrate?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Don’t be coy. Which parts were you personally responsible for? Is there even going to be a feature in Nouveau or was that part of the lie? If it was, then bravo, what a masterful ploy. You even got a world-famous photographer involved.’

‘Yes, there will be a feature – well, as far as I know. This latest development might impact⁠—’

‘Latest development? You mean how I’m being portrayed as the harlot of the fashion world who’s hellbent on breaking up a celebrity couple? That?’

‘Yes.’

‘Brilliant. Career over before it properly got started.’

Ignoring Cassie’s protestations that my career isn’t over, I drop onto the sofa and stare at the hardwood floor, picking out the knots that look like things: there’s the apple and there’s the sheep… I’m searching for my favourite, the one that looks like a birthday cake, when a horrible realisation floods my veins.

I sit back and grab a throw pillow, dragging it onto my lap and hugging it tightly. I don’t want to ask this, but I need to know.

‘Bean? Are you all right?’ I barely register that Cassie is making her way over to me.

I steel myself, then look at Poppy, who is peering at me with a mix of curiosity and concern.

‘Was Leo in on it?’ I ask, barely able to choke out the words.

‘No!’ cries Cassie, now kneeling before me.

Poppy shakes her head. ‘Leo has no idea – even now.’

The relief is palpable and the air rushes from my lungs in an audible sigh.

‘Bean, I’m so sorry. I just… I ran into Tova, see – you remember her? My work wife at my last job? Well, she asked after you and I made some joke about how many first dates you go on and then I mentioned Leo and she has this school friend at Poppy’s agency and before I knew it, she’d referred me, and I had an appointment. It all sort of snowballed from there.’

It’s unlike Cassie to rattle off a litany of details like this – all rushed and panicked. I grab her hand to shush her.

‘I think I understand. And I know you were just trying to help. You, however…’ I say, glowering at Poppy. She seems to take my fury in stride, which instantly punctures my resolve. I sigh, exhausted by the peaks and troughs of the past month.

‘So, what now? How do we get out of this mess?’

‘My colleagues and I are formulating a plan,’ Poppy replies matter-of-factly.

I laugh. ‘Brilliant. Hopefully, it’s not as fucked up as the rest of this mess.’

‘Elle,’ says Cassie.

‘Sorry, Poppy,’ I say, even though I’m not. After all this is sorted, I hope I never have to see Poppy Dean again. Even if she is just doing her job.

I push off the sofa and smooth out my clothes – well, Prue’s clothes. I never really wear street fashion, but it’s a great outfit and extremely comfortable. Prue’s feet are bigger than mine, so we had to raid our shoe storage for alternatives – no sense in sending a decoy into the world wearing plain clothes and lilac Doc Martins – a dead giveaway. So, white sneakers for Prue and I’m now teetering on a pair of orange block-heeled boots with socks stuffed in the toes – as good as we could do in a pinch.

Cassie stands and wraps her arms around me. With the boots on, I now come past her shoulders. I return the hug, holding her tightly. Poppy respectfully looks away, giving us our sisterly moment.

When Cassie releases me, I cross to my desk and retrieve my handbag from the drawer.

Hmm, probably best if I don’t take it – there may still be paps about who’ll recognise it from yesterday’s photos – so I grab my phone and my keys and stuff them into the left trouser pocket. Actually, the pockets are huge, so I take out a few other necessities – lip balm, tissues, and breath mints – and with great satisfaction, slip them inside the other one. Never underestimate the pleasure of a decent-sized pocket.

‘Where are you off to?’ Cassie asks.

‘I’m going to see Leo,’ I declare.

‘Really?’ she asks, clearly caught unawares.

‘Yep. I know it’s a risk, but my career may already be in the toilet. Besides, I need to know.’

‘You need to know what?’

‘If any of this is real,’ I reply simply. Because right now, I can’t sort truth from fiction, and I won’t know for sure until I see him.

And if it is… Can we possibly be together without it blowing up in our faces? Doubtful.

I stop walking a block away from Lorenzo and scout about for paps. From my (brief) experience with the paparazzi, they don’t care who sees them, blatantly strutting about, cameras slung around their necks. I can’t see any, so I continue.

I had the whole Tube ride over to figure out what to say but I still don’t know.

‘Hello, Leo, you may or may not know this, but my sister set us up through a matchmaking agency and now I can’t tell my arse from my elbow, but I think I might love you again. Do you love me?’

Perfect. I chuckle to myself, which is either a sign that I’m coming to terms with the absurdity of this situation or I’m losing my mind. It’s probably both.

I cross the road and enter the shop, which induces enough envy to knock me sideways – even worse than last time I was here. I’ve always wanted my own shop. In truth, I don’t need anything this grand – a cosy boutique would do. Just one. I also don’t need multiple locations or to become a chain. Just one boutique on a high street somewhere in London with ‘Bliss Designs’ above the door.

It was the top of the list for when we made it big. Now that may never happen, which is probably why my envy is mounting by the second.

‘Hello, madam, how may I help you today?’

I turn in the direction of the voice and it’s Linda, who I met last time I was here. Her warm expression cools in an instant.

‘I’d like to speak to Le— Lorenzo,’ I say, skipping niceties.

‘Ellie, isn’t it?’

I bristle, even though it’s close to ‘Elle’ and I only met her that one time, but I’m probably reacting to the hint of condescension rather than her getting my name wrong.

‘I’m sorry, but Lorenzo is not to be disturbed.’

Well, he’s about to be disturbed, perturbed, and very possibly incensed if I can just get past this bastion of polite officiousness.

‘Thank you, Linda, but I’m positive he’ll want to see me.’

Before she can reply, I turn on my orange heels and march purposefully towards the bottom of the staircase at the back of the shop. She clip-clops rapidly behind me, calling, ‘Ellie, Ellie, please.’

Ignoring her, I take the stairs two at a time, hearing her dainty stilettos running up behind me. When I reach Leo’s workroom two storeys up, I’m out of breath and a sheen of sweat slicks my skin.

‘Elle,’ says Leo, leaping off a stool by one of the workbenches.

‘I’m so sorry, Lorenzo, she pushed past me and⁠—’

Linda is laying it on a little thick – I didn’t even touch her.

‘It’s all right, Linda, thank you,’ he says to her.

She purses her lips again, shaking her lustrous blonde mane with annoyed arrogance, then retreats, her footsteps echoing up the staircase.

‘That was quite the entrance,’ says Leo. I meet his eye and his gaze sweeps the length of me, taking in my appearance. ‘And quite the outfit.’

‘Long story.’

His eyes lift and we stare at each other, a dozen emotions playing across his face and just as many coursing through me.

‘It’s all my fault,’ I say, right as he says, ‘I’m sorry about before.’

‘You go,’ he says, interrupting my offer for him to go first. We share an uneasy laugh. ‘You go,’ he says again, his voice soft.

For the umpteenth time today, I have no idea how to articulate what’s going on inside my head – or my heart.

‘You could start with the outfit,’ he offers, uncannily reading my mind again.

‘Decoy,’ I reply. ‘To trick the paps.’

He nods, obviously impressed. ‘Do you think you shook ’em?’

‘Who’s to say? I suppose we’ll know in an hour.’

‘Yeah, good point.’

‘I’m assuming you saw the latest photos then?’

He nods. ‘I reckon Taylor Swift would kill for this much publicity.’

We share another gentle laugh, which helps ease my nerves. But I still have no idea what I want to say to this man – besides explaining that I’m the reason we’re in this mess.

‘Hey, look, I’m sorry I took off like that,’ he says before I have a chance to explain. ‘I wanted to get back here as fast as I could to put in a call to Aunt Serena, but it was only after I got off the call that I realised how it must have looked to you, me leaving right when the shit hit the fan. Especially after…’

So, it’s hard for him too, dredging up the past.

‘You’re right, that did occur to me. And I did hate you a little for it.’

‘Just a little?’ He’s joking, but I nod, and the smile falls from his face – his gorgeous face, which I can’t stop staring at. How have I never noticed before that there’s a small bump on the bridge of his nose? Was that always there or did it happen after he moved back to Texas?

I should ask about his call with Ser.

‘So, what did she say?’

‘Aunt Serena? She called it a “shit show”.’

‘She’s not wrong. Does she have a solution?’

‘You won’t like it.’

‘Try me.’

‘She wants me to fall on my sword and publicly beg for Franzia’s forgiveness.’ I suddenly feel as if I weigh fifty stone. ‘You have to understand,’ he rushes to add, ‘she’s worked so hard for me, making me who I am, building the label. The engagement was supposed to be the cherry on top of the publicity sundae and⁠—’

‘Just…’ I hiss, raising my hands.

I can’t listen to any more of this. If Leo is going to kowtow to Ser and continue to go along with her (evil) plan, then what am I even doing here?

‘This was a mistake,’ I say, making my way to the stairs. As I reach the top step, it occurs to me that now I’m the one who’s running away.

‘Wait, what?’ He rushes after me and grabs me by the arm, his fingers gripping firmly. I’m about to wrench it free of his grasp when he adds, ‘I told her no.’

Time stands still and the only sound is our ragged breaths mingling between us as we lock eyes. His gaze drops to my mouth and in an instant, he pulls me to him, encircling me in his embrace and lowering his mouth to mine.

This kiss – the taste of him, the touch of his tongue, how his lips caress mine, the soft moan that escapes his lips, sending shivers hurtling down my spine, the feel of his touch at the nape of my neck, his body pressed against me, breathing in his scent – it is everything. Familiar, yet electrifying – our past, our present, and our future in one perfect moment.

I never want it to end.

It could be minutes or hours or days – I’ve lost all sense of time – but eventually, the kiss draws to a close, and we ease apart just enough for our eyes to meet and share a grin.

‘That was…’ he says breathlessly.

‘Uh-huh,’ I reply.

‘You have no idea how much I want to make love to you right now, Ellie.’

His words rocket through me, quickening my pulse and sending tingles between my legs.

‘I have some idea,’ I say with a soft chuckle, feeling his erection pressed against me through our clothes.

‘Do you think it’s safe?’ he asks with a jerk of his head.

‘Out there? In the world?’ I suspect he’s thinking about us heading to his flat – or mine.

‘Yeah,’ he replies.

‘Hard to say.’ I eye the workbench – it doesn’t look too uncomfortable.

‘Hold on,’ he says, his eyes alight with mischief, ‘I have a better idea.’ His eyes dart towards his phone, which is upright on the workbench. ‘The store closes in five. If I tell my staff I’ll close up, we’ll have the place to ourselves.’

I laugh.

‘Why’s that funny?’ he asks.

‘Not funny, just… I was dreading a cab ride back to East London.’

‘Oh, sweetheart, can you imagine that poor cab driver…?’ We chuckle together. ‘Give me five and meet me on the second floor – the office on the left.’

He’s gone before I can reply so I head to his office to wait out the longest five minutes of my life.