It’s immediately obvious that these women might not know the full story, but they’re not going to push her beyond what she can handle. “Let’s sit,” Kelly says, giving Ella a last pat on the back. “Let’s eat.”
“I’m all for that,” Ella says and laughs. As they take their seats, I search for a waiter or waitress to ask if I can plant myself in the corner of the room, remaining in sight, but at a distance.
“This one is for you,” Trish calls out to me. Half-seated, she perks right back up. “There are four chairs for a reason.”
“Come, come.” Kelly gestures with her hand, waving me over. “I promise we won’t bite,” she adds.
Trish side-eyes her with a devilish smile before turning that grin to Ella and saying loud enough for me to hear, “Shh, don’t tell him Kelly’s lying.”
Ella doesn’t miss a beat laughing along with the girls and she turns in her seat, brimming with a happiness I have yet to see her wear back at her home. It’s a striking contrast and when she asks politely, “Please, would you sit with us,” but with wide pleading eyes, I offer her the professional response.
“This is your brunch—”
“Oh no, we insist,” Kelly interjects. Clearing my throat, I give them a tight smile and take the seat next to Ella. Heat races along the back of my shoulders. This is what we would do for any other client, I remind myself. This is professional. That is all this is.
Ella’s gaze burns into me and rather than looking, rather than giving our relationship away, I reassure her that all is well by slipping my hand onto her thigh. Balancing the professional image with the very unprofessional touch. With it, though, Ella laughs. “You two practically bullied him,” she teases.
As Kelly shamelessly shrugs, Trish leads the conversation.
“So.” Trish picks up her water goblet and takes a sip. “Who’s this, El?”
For a split second, Ella beams at me. It sets my heart racing. Then her expression settles into something more neutral. Good. “This is Zander, one of the men from the private firm I hired.”
This is the story we’ve settled on for when Ella makes these appearances—that she’s hired a new security firm. No one else needs to know the details, and no one ever will. The Firm prides itself on confidentiality. “It’s nice to meet you ladies,” I say to greet them.
Trish shares a look with Kelly, who raises her eyebrows. It’s over in the blink of an eye, and I sit back in my seat and stay quiet. It’s not long before the three women are talking around me.
This is exactly what I want.
I’m here to observe Ella for signs that she needs to leave, whether it’s with her signal or otherwise, and that is all.
Watching her with her friends is a stark difference from the silent woman in the courtroom almost a month ago. She is different with Kam, more laid back and less high energy than she is now with her friends. She is dynamically beautiful, transparently confident, and yet, when no one is looking … I know she has her moments. We all do.
The conversation is easy and light, as are the meals the women eat. The brunch consists of dainty pastries, a variety of fresh fruits and berries, eggs benedict and sides of bacon, sausage and ham.
Although the women are slim, the platters disappear quickly and I half wonder where they put it away. Ella herself doesn’t hesitate to take her share and when the women push it on me to eat, I do so for politeness only.
A half an hour passes without the women concerning themselves with me at all.
Kelly tells Ella about a book she read—apparently she likes fantasy, and she likes it steamy—and only once does she cut a glance at me. “Sorry, Zander,” she says, and Ella laughs.
I offer a smirk, again telling myself it’s to be polite, although I will admit, I’m fond of the way they treat Ella. Trish whispers, “I bet Z would like it,” “there’s totally sex in it.” Kelly laughs as Trish asks Ella, “What do you think?"
“If I had time to read, maybe I could offer an opinion.”
“Oh?” Now Trish is looking at me, and I don’t mind it, not exactly. I prefer my focus to remain on Ella, though. “Is this one keeping you busy?”
Heat blazes along the back of my neck and my right hand flexes. It’s one of the signals, commanding Ella to behave.
I see an echo of that woman from the videos on the porn site. Not the woman on her social platforms who shared her day-in, day-out life with her followers, but the vixen at night. Her kinky, her less sweet, and much more provocative side.
Ella’s gaze falls to my hand, and I rest a loose fist on the table.