Part 24 (1/2)

”Now you're talking,” I said, trying to ignore the nagging pull in the pit of my stomach. ”Shall we forget the canteen?” I suddenly asked. ”And see if my room's empty, instead?”

”Clever thinking, I like it,” Elise said, following me back down the corridor to my dressing room. Entering it and seeing that Bella wasn't around, Elise followed me in, then closed the door and leant against it before beckoning me back over to her. As I obediently went to her, she draped her arms over my shoulders and drew me in closer.

”So? Weekend sound good?” she asked, moving her hand briefly to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind my ear.

”Sounds awesome,” I said. ”But I will need to do some other stuff around my apartment this weekend as well.”

”Stuff?” She c.o.c.ked her head to one side.

”Stuff,” I repeated. ”Cleaning, fixing things that have been waiting to be fixed for weeks, and-”

”Mm-hmm,” she said, looking at my chest, nodding to herself and smiling. ”And you'd give up the chance to be with me just so you could do a bit of home improvement?” She glanced up at me, her eyebrow curved quizzically and perfectly.

I laughed. ”No, of course not! But I...”

Elise lazily traced a finger up the front of my top, stopped at my top b.u.t.ton, and slowly undid it. ”You were saying?” she said, undoing the second b.u.t.ton and slipping a hand inside. She didn't look at me all the time she was doing it, instead concentrating on where her hand was and what she was doing. I was so giddy at her touch I thought my knees might buckle underneath me at any time.

Elise moved in to kiss me, but the rattle of the door handle made us both jump as if we'd just been stung. I instinctively jerked away from her, hastily b.u.t.toning up my top, while Elise sprang back away from the door and leant against my dressing table, her eyes wide.

”d.a.m.n door sticking.” I heard Bella's voice outside the door then jumped as she shoved at the door and practically fell into the room towards me. ”b.l.o.o.d.y thing. Oh!” She glanced from me to Elise and back to me.

”I was standing behind the door,” I stuttered. ”Sorry.” I looked at Elise and saw she'd gone bright red.

”I thought you'd gone to the canteen.” Bella shrugged off her coat and, flinging it towards her chair, cursed loudly as it missed and slithered to the floor.

”Just going now,” I muttered, gathering up my bag and heading for the door.

Bella sat herself down in front of her mirror and grimaced. ”The make-up girls can do wonders, I know.” She cast a glance over to me. ”But, my G.o.d, even they're going to struggle with this face today.”

”If I don't see you again this afternoon, have a good weekend, Bella,” I finally said, not daring to look at Elise. I knew what the expression on her face would be like, and I really didn't want to see it.

”You, too,” Bella replied, looking from me to Elise and back again, then turning to face her mirror once more when Elise didn't say anything.

Outside the dressing room, I closed the door slowly behind me and breathed out, long and slow.

”Do you think she noticed anything?” Elise asked, casting an anxious look at the door.

”Doubt it,” I said nonchalantly. ”You know Bella. An elephant could come into the room and she wouldn't notice.” I kept my voice light, even though my heart was thudding against my ribs.

”I don't know.” Elise looked at the door again. ”She looked kinda suspicious.”

”Will you chill?” I said. ”Stop being so paranoid all the time.” I delved into my bag and pulled out my purse, waggling it at her. ”So how about some lunch before you go?”

Elise stared at the floor frowning, evidently deep in thought. ”Can we take a rain check?” she suddenly said, jerking her head up and looking at me. ”I'm really tired all of a sudden. Think I'm going to skip lunch, go home, and just veg out on my own.”

Disappointment burned in my chest. ”Sure,” I said feebly.

Elise looked as if she wanted to say something but stopped herself.

”You okay?” I asked.

”'Course,” she said, glancing around and briefly linking her fingers with mine before quickly letting them drop. ”I'll call you tonight.”

”Sure,” I said again.

Elise didn't call that night, as I somehow knew she wouldn't. I spent most of that evening sitting in the darkness of my apartment, lost in my own thoughts, trying so hard not to let my disappointment and frustration at our situation get the better of me.

I spent a sleepless night during which my head and heart argued with one another constantly, my head repeatedly reminding me that things weren't as I wanted them to be, while my heart told me that just one kiss from her would tell me that everything was going to be okay. Finally, morning arrived, much to my relief. It was a bright, breezy Sat.u.r.day, the sort of gusty day that makes clouds scoot across the sky like they're being chased by an angry mob. I gave up any thoughts of sleep and got up early, deliberately not switching my phone on, not wanting to have to feel the overwhelming unhappiness that I knew would come if Elise hadn't texted or called me. If I didn't switch my phone on, I figured, then I'd never know whether she had or not, would I? And then I couldn't get disappointed again.

I needed to fill my head with thoughts of something other than Elise; housework, it seemed, would fill that perfectly. Cranking up my iPod as loud as my ears would allow, I set my mind to the dull tasks of tidying up and cleaning, tasks that I'd been putting off for weeks and weeks, primarily because I'd been so busy with filming PR that I just hadn't had the time. I spent the morning loading machines full of was.h.i.+ng, vacuuming corners of my apartment that I didn't even know existed, and finally changing light bulbs in lamps that hadn't worked in weeks.

It was just after midday when I finally slumped down on the sofa with a coffee and a baguette and I remembered to switch my phone on. I munched on my sandwich, listening as it beeped over and over again. With a sense of antic.i.p.ation, I flicked my thumb across the phone's screen, wiping breadcrumbs from my mouth, and saw that Elise had rung and texted me six times since the night before. I put my baguette down and read her texts, each one asking me if I was okay and whether she could come over. I listened to her voicemails, all saying the same thing, each one getting more exasperated, and I immediately felt guilty.

I rang her straight back, a pulse of relief running through me when she answered. She didn't sound happy.

”Hey,” I said uncertainly.

”Holly.” She sounded terse.

”You...uh...you've been trying to get hold of me?” I asked, thinking how lame that sounded.

”Since, like, last night,” she replied.

”I had my phone off.”

”No s.h.i.+t, Sherlock.”

I paused. ”You bailed out on me last night,” I said. ”We were going to have pizza, remember?”

”I'm sorry,” Elise replied. ”That's why I was ringing you last night-to apologise.” She paused. ”I rang your apartment this morning, too,” she said. ”Three times.”

I looked at my iPod on the sofa next to me. ”Ah,” I said quietly.

”I wanted to see if I could come see you today.” Elise sounded annoyed. ”But seeing as half the day's gone already, there doesn't seem much point.”

”You're feeling better than you did yesterday?” I asked. I couldn't help it.

There was silence at the end of the phone, then, ”Yeah. Actually...I wanted to talk to you about that.”

”Oh yeah?”

”And to make it up to you for ducking out on you like I did.”

Relief washed over me. ”It's okay.”