peered closer—two weeks past its sell-by date. Neither looked appetising.
Dispiritedly Eleanor closed the fridge. It was hard to believe she’d once baked cookies and muffins by the dozen, had dreamed of owning her own café. She’d been unbearably, determinedly domestic, and now she could barely feed herself.
She grabbed a handful of rather stale crackers from the cupboard and went back to the living room. Funny, she hadn’t thought of her old café dream in years, yet when she’d known Jace she’d spent hours embroidering that daydream, how it would be a little bit of everything: coffee shop, bakery, bookstore, gallery. Warm, cosy, bright, and welcoming. The home she’d never felt she’d had. It—everything—had seemed so possible then, so bright and shiny.
And now having Jace back in her life so suddenly, so surprisingly, brought it all back. The dreams, the disappointments.
The despair.
Eleanor thrust the thought away as she munched another cracker. Her stomach rumbled again. Perhaps sleep was better. She was exhausted anyway, and at least when she was asleep she wouldn’t feel hungry. Neither would she have to think—or remember.
Dropping her uneaten crackers in the bin, Eleanor turned towards her bedroom.
Yet as she lay in the darkness of her room, the duvet pulled up to her chest, sleep didn’t come. She was exhausted yet her eyes were wide open and gritty. And despite her best effort for them not to, the memories came, slipping into her mind, winding around her heart.
Lying there in the dark, she could almost feel the late autumn sunshine slanting onto the wide-planked wooden floors of her college apartment. She saw herself, tousle-haired, young, laughing, holding out a cupcake to Jace. They weren’t lovers then; they hadn’t even kissed. Yet. He’d invited himself over to taste the treats she’d been telling him about when he’d come into the café where she worked for his morning latte. And high with anticipation, Eleanor had invited him in, revelling in the charged atmosphere as he took a bite of the cupcake right from her hand, and then, laughing, pulled her close for a kiss.
It had been so easy, so right, and she’d gone without even considering another option, a different choice. He’d tasted like chocolate.
She closed her eyes, her throat tight and aching. She didn’t want to resurrect these memories. She worked hard never to remember them. Yet they came anyway, so sweet and yet so bitter for what came afterward.
The empty apartment. The disconnected cellphone. The bounced emails. The cold, cold despair when she’d realised just how alone she was.
Groaning alone, Eleanor turned on her side, tucking her knees up to her chest, and clenched her eyes shut as if that could keep the memories from coming and consuming her.
The blip of her baby on the monitor. The hard, sharp edge of the examining table, the cold slime of the gel on her tummy, and the endless silence of the technician, frowning, as she stared at the scan.
What’s wrong?
Eleanor bolted up in bed and went to the bathroom for a herbal sleeping pill. She might have faced down Jace today, but she couldn’t face the memories at night. They tormented her in a way even he never had. Their stark truth remained lodged in her gut, in her heart, like a stone. Nothing would remove it, or take away the bleak knowledge that she could never—
Eleanor closed her eyes again, tightly, and to her relief she finally slipped into a sleep made sweet by its absence of memories or dreams.
Despite her bad night, Eleanor was at her desk by eight o’clock in the morning. She saw Lily walk past her office door, nodding grimly, and she knew she’d been right to hurry to her desk that morning. She’d email the party plans to Jace, and then she’d put him out of her mind for ever. Or at least until he emailed back.
It took her nearly an hour to compose the email; it was aggravatingly difficult to strike the right tone, professional yet personable. She didn’t want Jace to think for a second that she was affected by him. That she’d been hurt. Yet she hardly wanted to seem too friendly, either; that smacked of desperation.
Too tired to tweak the email any more, Eleanor just ended up sending a rather boring list of details, explaining in dry terms the choice of venue, the seating plan, the floral arrangements, the menu.
Then she determined ly pressed send.
Two minutes later her phone rang.
‘This is completely unacceptable.’
Dumbly Eleanor stared at her computer screen, with its ‘your message has been sent’ confirmation still visible. It seemed impossible that in the approximately one hundred and twenty seconds since she’d pressed send, Jace had read her entire email and deemed it all unsuitable. Unacceptable, even.
‘Excuse me?’
Over the phone Eleanor heard Jace exhale impatiently. ‘This is all very standard, Ellie—’
‘Don’t call me that,’ she said sharply. He ignored her.
‘If I wanted a run-of-the-mill upscale do, I could have gone elsewhere. I came to Premier Planning because I was told you’d give me something extraordinary.’
Eleanor closed her eyes and prayed for patience. For mercy. She counted to ten, all the while listening to Jace’s impatience, hearing it in those short little exhalations of breath, and then said coolly, ‘I assure you there will be nothing run-of-the-mill about this party.’
Jace made a sound of disbelief that came close to a snort. ‘Salmon pâté? Gardenias? Champagne? Standard luxuries.’
‘That’s an oxymoron, if ever I’ve heard one—’
‘All of it is run-of-the-mill, Ellie.’
‘I told you, don’t call me that,’ she snapped.
‘Then impress me.’
That was the last thing she wanted to do. Why would she want to impress the man who had treated her like dirt, who had ground her heart into dust? Was her job really worth that much, worth her own dignity and pride?
Of course it was. It had to be. For the last ten years her job had been just about the only thing she had valued, the one thing she’d poured herself into. She wasn’t risking it for Jace. He’d already done enough damage in her life.
‘You gave me less than twenty-four hours to come up with an entire event,’ she finally ground out. ‘Of course I haven’t worked out all the details yet—’
‘I expected better than this.’
‘Funny, I said that ten years ago,’ Eleanor snapped. Then she closed her eyes. The last, the very last thing she wanted was to drag the past—their past—into this mess. And from the taut silence crackling along the phone lines, she had a feeling Jace felt the same.
‘You have no idea,’ he said coldly. ‘Meet me at my office building for lunch, twelve o’clock sharp.’ And then he hung up.
Eleanor cursed aloud, just as Lily poked her head in her office door and smiled narrowly.
‘Everything all right, Eleanor?’
