Elliot, Song of the Soulmate (Love Austen 5)

Louisa waggled her brows. “He hasn’t met the right woman yet.”

“Or man.”

“Huh?”

Shit. “I—I think I read somewhere—”

“Oh, yeah. Don’t ever remember him dating a guy though. Or even mentioning one, and he gets interviewed about his past loves a lot. I guess there must have been someone for him to know he’s bisexual, but they couldn’t have meant that much or he’d have said something. My theory is he had a tryst with a guy but leans toward women.”

Elliot didn’t want to dwell on the ache of that hypothesis. He eyed Louisa’s outfit and her dreamy smile and tried to keep his own consistent. “You look . . . hopeful.”

“I am. Gala asked him what his five-year plan looked like, and guess what he said?”

Elliot stared at the last of his coffee and drained it. He didn’t want to know, but he’d ask. He had to. “What did he say?”

“He wants to settle down. He wants marriage, he wants kids, he wants a family.”

“Marriage. Family.” Everything Wentworth had once wanted with Elliot. His smile ached. “I hope he finds it.”

“I like a man who knows what he wants. It’s an admirable five year plan. Not too dissimilar to my own. What about you, Elliot? What do you want?”

Change.

It was why Elliot had quit his practice and taken on the chance to work as a consultant. After this, he wasn’t sure where he’d go, and there was something thrilling in that. “I want to see the world.”

And it wasn’t a lie. He did. He wanted to leave Port Ratapu and find adventure elsewhere.

But he also . . . wanted to share that with someone.

He was tired of living alone. Tired of dates that never felt right and never led anywhere outside of the bedroom. Tired of watching his friends settle down into happy marriages.

He was tired of wishing things had turned out differently.

“He also talked about his ideal spouse. Want to know?”

He couldn’t breathe. “I—I think I’m good, thanks.”

Cameron, their boss’s brother and writer of the film’s script, zipped past their open door, then backtracked and popped his head in, pushing up his glasses. “Wentworth McAllister’s here!”

Oh fuck.

Louisa was on her feet in an instant. “Coming, Elliot?”

“Ah, no. I . . .” He tapped his phone. “I really should call Mary back.”

“You do you.” She straightened her blouse and pushed up her breasts. “Later.”

Elliot called Mary. Just as he thought, Honey had been barking the whole morning and the neighbours were grumpy and she couldn’t drop her very important meetings to let him outside and would Elliot be so kind? It was only five minutes from the studios.

“I could take him to work with me so he has company,” Elliot suggested. Mary was trying to train Honey to stay alone for most of the day, but in his opinion eight hours alone at that age was too long. Sure, she hired a dog walker for one midday potty walk, but . . . Honey was so little. He wanted more company.

“Oh, I’m not sure. You know, he’s a sickly wee puppy. His eyesight is shot. Doesn’t gauge distances well. Could be overwhelming for him.”

Elliot agreed to check on the pup, snuck out of the building, and hoofed home. Honey greeted him with the wag of his puppy tail and adorably chipper barks.

He was starved for attention, poor thing. “Come ‘ere, Honey.”

It was the perfect name for the buttery soft ball of bronze fur. He even smelled faintly sweet. Elliot hugged him and tickled under his chin. God, he couldn’t leave him here. “Your mum didn’t explicitly say not to take you to work. Just that she wasn’t sure. I’d say we’ll be careful, mmm? Whatcha think?”

Honey licked his neck.

Elliot found his presence calming as they left the house, but as they neared Ask Austen his steps slowed. He laughed at himself and spoke to Honey. “I’m being silly. He might not even remember me.”

Even if Wentworth vaguely recalled . . . it didn’t necessarily follow he’d recognise Elliot now. Hell, Wentworth had met thousands of people since high school. Elliot’s face would just be another one to glance over and quickly forget.

Yes. Of course. Absolutely.

Nothing to fear. He’d keep his head down and keep quiet. His contract only extended another few weeks. It was possible they’d barely cross paths at all. Sure, Elliot was officed up in the music studio, but it was the smaller one. Famous Wentworth McAllister would be in the bigger one, without a doubt.

Yes. Yes, it would all be just fine.

He’d just reached the top of the staircase when he heard the song.

“Bumblebee Breakup”.

It came from one of the offices that lined the U-shaped balcony. Someone was blasting the melody for shits and giggles, and why not? They were excited. The creator himself was here.

But, as always, it gripped Elliot’s heart in a vice.