“Because of Troy. You want to see what might happen.”
“Maybe, yeah. I just feel—unsettled. My head is in a daze, and not in a good way. The idea of betraying either of them makes me sick to my stomach.”
“You listen to me, you’re a grown woman. There is nothing wrong with exploring this. You owe it to yourself to see what you want. Not what Troy wants or what Luke wants. But what you want.”
“What if Troy’s right about me? What if I can never commit to anyone else? Am I gonna end up some crazy old maid who writes about romance, but who has absolutely no idea what she’s talking about?”
“Okay, bite your tongue. No one even says ‘old maid’ anymore. And have you ever thought maybe you just can’t commit yourself to him?”
“I’ve considered it.”
“But . . . ?”
“But I felt guilty. Troy’s wonderful. I mean seriously, there’s no one better.”
“Honey, he could be the most perfect person on the planet, but if he’s not the guy for you, that’s all that matters. Stop. Feeling. Guilty.”
Elle leaned her elbows on the desk, hanging her head in her hands. “If only . . .”
Elle heard Whitney rise to her feet to stand behind her. She stroked Elle’s back gently with her hand. “What am I gonna do with you?”
“Put me to sleep,” Elle joked. “Put me out of my misery.”
“Nah. You’re stronger than that. You’re the strongest person I know.”
“Me?” Elle’s eyebrows pinched together. “You need to get out more.”
“I’m serious, Ellie. You’re a strong, intelligent, creative woman. Yes, you’ve made mistakes. Yes, you hurt someone you never intended to hurt. You’re human, irrevocably human.”
Elle stood, wiped her face, and sank into Whitney’s arms. “Thank you for being you.”
“I love you, honey. You’ll figure this out.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You will.”
Elle’s moment of comfort in Whitney’s arms was short-lived when Nicole buzzed.
“Elle, Luke Kingston is here to see you.”
“Oh God,” Elle murmured into Whitney’s shoulder.
“He doesn’t know any of this, does he?” Whitney handed her the box of tissue; Elle eagerly grabbed a tissue and dabbed her face. She didn’t want Luke to see her like this.
“No.”
Elle pressed against the intercom button. “Please send him in.”
“No time like the present,” Whitney said, walking to the door. “Text me later. Let me know how you’re doing, all right?”
Luke opened the door, giving Elle a conflicted expression the moment he saw her tears. She knew it was time to be completely honest with him, even if it meant he ran as far away from her as possible. He and Whitney exchanged pleasantries before Whitney vacated the office. As soon as the door clicked behind her, Luke crossed the room to Elle, wrapping an arm around her.
“Baby, what’s going on? You’ve been crying.”
“I know. And I know I should tell you—”
“So tell me.”
“It’s . . . it’s difficult.”
“Listen to me, I can handle it. I promise.” He pulled away, his hands still holding her arms. “Things have been different with you. Tell me what’s going on. I feel like you’re slipping through my fingers.”
“I don’t mean to, I just—I’m not sure where to start.”
Elle sat in her chair and Luke eased himself against her desk, placing his hands in his pockets. “Have I done something? I know you think I’ve gone Hollywood, but I—”
“No, no.” Elle shook her head decisively. “This isn’t about that. It’s about me. About what I did, a long time ago.”
Luke flinched, but then his expression relaxed. “Knowing you, you’re being too hard on yourself.”
“Maybe you should wait until after you hear what I did. You might change your mind.”
“Fine. Hit me.” Luke smiled his boyish grin, and Elle knew right then and there she was safe with him. She could tell him anything, even what she did in Vegas.
“The owner of the restaurant . . .”
“Your ex-boyfriend.”
“Actually, he was my husband.”
Luke’s eyes widened.
“It was brief,” she added quickly, “but . . . it happened.”
Luke rubbed his chin with his fingertips. “Didn’t expect that, but okay. I don’t care that you were married—is that what you were worried about?”
“It’s more complicated than that. We did it on a whim, after dating for a while. And I broke it off almost immediately, like less than two days later. We were in Vegas and it was a mess. I hurt him so badly, Luke. More than I’ve ever hurt anyone.”
“Why did you marry him? You know, if you didn’t really want to?”
“I got all wrapped up in it, I guess. I didn’t want the relationship to end, but that’s exactly what happened. He couldn’t forgive me and cut off contact for ten years.”
“Ten years? Ouch.”
“I thought he was still in Chicago. The last place in the world I expected him to be was here.”
“Maybe he followed you.” Luke raised his eyebrows and leaned his head forward, his lips pressed into a thin line. Was he being protective of her? If so, despite the fact she knew he was way off base in his assumption, she liked it. She liked him being protective of her. It was sexy, yet subtle.
“No, he didn’t. He was just as shocked as I was.” Elle studied Luke’s expression. He didn’t seem convinced. “If you knew Troy, you’d know he had no intention of ever seeing me again. He has a child and her mother relocated. That’s the only reason he’s here.”
Luke pulled Elle from the chair, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling into her neck. A delicious shiver ran down her spine. Luke in protective mode was possibly the sexiest Luke she’d yet to encounter. She wanted to lose herself in his embrace as she always did.
“There’s more. The show you’re working on is, for all intents and purposes, our story. He’s Desmond and I’m Molly.”
Luke pulled back, running his hand through his hair and glancing around Elle’s office. “Wait, so you’re telling me this . . . all of this is about him?”
Elle looked down at the carpet. “Yes.”
“Are you still in love with the guy?”
“What?” Elle asked, taken aback. She had no idea how to answer that question tactfully. She’d never stopped having feelings for Troy. And part of her wondered if she ever would. “Are you seriously asking me that?”
“Yes.”
“This is ridiculous.” Elle returned to her chair and swiveled to open her desk drawer, retrieving a pen and paper, doing whatever she could to avoid the question. Luke grabbed the arm of her chair and brought her back to center. Once again, they locked eyes. The air in Elle’s lungs seemed to fly from her chest.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Luke said, gritting his teeth.
“Are you . . . jealous?” The corner of Elle’s mouth pulled up into a curious smile. She wanted to savor this moment with Luke, to forget the pain and anguish she’d caused herself and Troy.
Luke cocked his head to the side. “And what if I am?”
Elle scrunched her lips, enjoying this side of the carefree actor. Jealous Luke was even sexier than Protective Luke. She was never one to make men jealous, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t savor Luke’s reaction. It made her ridiculously happy. As much as she fought it, a large grin crossed her face as they stared into each other’s eyes.
“Look,” Luke continued, his expression still serious, “I don’t trust him. He left you behind and never looked back. He’s a moron.”
“Didn’t you hear my story? I’m the moron. Me. I’m the one who destroyed him, not the other way around.”
Luke pulled her gently from the chair and placed soft kisses on each of her cheeks. “Anyone who could walk away from you is an idiot. End of story. I don’t care what mistakes you made. If he knew you, really knew you, he wouldn’t have pushed. You have to do things on your own time.”