A Place Called Home. Eleanor Jones

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ I’m nearly home.”

      “Then I’ll come by at seven-thirty and take you out to dinner.”

      There was no point in trying to put him off, and Ellie was too tired to resist, anyway. “See you then.”

      “Oh, and Ellie?”

      “Yes?”

      “I’m sorry for abandoning you.”

      Flicking off her phone, she stepped back into the present, determinedly trying to shake off the events of the afternoon.

      Her phone rang again, buzzing against her hip as she was finally climbing the stairs to her apartment. With a sigh, she retrieved it from her jacket pocket, wishing she had passed on Matt’s dinner offer.

      “Hello?” she responded, tucking the phone in between her shoulder and her chin as she fumbled to unlock the door.

      It was Matt again, his voice high-pitched and urgent. As always, he was living life in a rush. “You home yet?”

      Her heart lifted. “Don’t tell me. You’ve changed your mind.”

      He laughed. “No, nothing like that. I just wanted to make sure you knew what time I was picking you up.”

      “Seven-thirty, right?”

      “Yes, and wear something nice.”

      “Don’t I always,” she retorted.

      * * *

      AS ELLIE BURROWED through her closet for an outfit, she realized she hadn’t called her dad, as she’d told herself she would. She was going to Hope Farm next weekend, she decided, no matter what he said. Seeing Andy again had brought the past sharply back into focus. For the first time since leaving home, she felt as if she was finally ready to face those memories and maybe even make peace with all that had happened. She didn’t dare give herself enough time to change her mind.

      “Sorry, Mum,” she whispered, holding back tears. She had let down her mum’s memory. Badly. She should have stayed home and supported her dad, she understood that now, or at least kept in better touch with him...whether he wanted her to or not.

      Ellie took a short black skirt and lacy top from their hangers and let her mind slip back to the difficult days after her mother’s funeral. She had been just a teenager back then; her dad was the adult. Now, though, she was an adult. She’d made her own way in the world for almost six years, ever since she said goodbye to her grieving father and drove away from Hope Farm. Maybe that was the day she’d grown up—or perhaps that had happened when she’d held her mother’s hand as her life slipped away. The hustle and bustle of a totally new life had seemed to help her through her own grief, but now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe this life she’d made for herself wasn’t really a new beginning... Maybe it was a hiding place.

      Ellie stepped into the shower, and as the water ran soothingly over her aching limbs, she let out a sigh. The safe little world she had set up for herself felt as if it was crumbling around her.

       CHAPTER THREE

      THE RESTAURANT MATT had chosen was suave and sophisticated.

      “I wish you’d told me we were coming here—I would have worn something classier,” Ellie groaned as they pulled up outside. She checked her reflection, fluffing up her short blond curls.

      “You look fine,” he insisted. “And you’ll be far more likely to charm my client dressed like that.”

      “You’re not seriously telling me this is a business dinner, Matt. I thought you were trying to make amends for abandoning me this afternoon.”

      “I am, kind of. I’m killing two birds with one stone, so to speak.”

      Her irritation suddenly faded, and was replaced with amusement. Was that why she was with Matt? she wondered. Because she didn’t need to take him too seriously? It occurred to her that their whole engagement might be a sham. If they were both honest, neither of them actually wanted to get married...or even move in together. The thought left her feeling vaguely uncomfortable, and when Andy’s warm grin flashed into her mind, she quickly stifled the emotions it conjured, turning her attention back to the present.

      “Ever the opportunist, eh, Matt?” She laughed, trying to sound lighthearted.

      “Have to be.” He grinned, holding out his arm.

      As she curled her fingers around the expensive material of his suit jacket, she lifted her chin, silently cursing Andy Montgomery for coming back into her life; hopefully their paths wouldn’t cross again for a while...or ever. He conjured up way too many painful memories. Life with Matt was lighthearted, and she liked lighthearted right now.

      * * *

      DETERMINED TO ENJOY the evening, Ellie tried her best to make conversation with Matt’s middle-aged client, Jack Noble. She was a bit self-conscious about the length of her skirt, but she didn’t let on. She had been to so many of these dinners since she met Matt that sometimes she wondered if he was only with her to have a trophy on his arm, someone to flirt with his clients in order to weaken their resolve. Until recently it had just felt like a bit of fun; she’d been in control and that had made her feel good. Tonight, though, despite her outward show of joviality, she couldn’t seem to find the right mood. It all seemed so shallow. Smiling at yet another of Jack’s unfunny jokes, she was overcome with the feeling that her whole life was a sham, too. The only real, true thing in her life was her painting. She’d convinced herself that her relationship with Matt was fun and lighthearted, but suddenly it just felt false. A heavy ache began to throb in her temple.

      “Look...” She put her hand to her head. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t feel so well. I think I may have to go home.”

      She caught a glint of anger in Matt’s gray eyes and grimaced.

      “My head is killing me.”

      The client was more understanding.

      “Perhaps you should take her home,” he said to Matt. “We can do this some other time.”

      “No, honestly, I just need some fresh air,” Ellie objected. “You two carry on. I’ll call a cab.”

      “Why don’t you try going outside for a bit, then, before you rush off,” Matt suggested, eager to salvage what he could of the meeting.

      Ellie was already on her feet. “It’s just a headache, but I do think I’d better head home.” She held out her hand to Jack, who seized it with plump fingers, pumping it up and down. “Nice to meet you,” she said, smiling. “And I really am sorry about this.”

      “I’ll call you later,” Matt cut in, making his opinion clear.

      The fresh evening air hit her as soon as she left the restaurant and she felt the pain in her head already beginning to recede. Rejecting her plan to call a taxi, she decided to walk the mile or so back to her apartment. By the time she got home, she would probably feel absolutely fine.

      Setting off, she listened to the staccato sound of her heels on the pavement. She had СКАЧАТЬ