It rings for so long that I’m worried she is not going to pick up. When she does, I sigh in relief, “Ellen. When’s your break? I’m dying for a coffee.”
CHAPTER SIX
ELLEN CASSIDY
I jump when my phone rings, scrabbling to find it in the bottom of my bag. I finally manage to get it out, just before it goes to voicemail. I answer and hold it up to my ear. I sound breathless, “Ellen speaking.”
“Ellen. When’s your break? I’m dying for a coffee.” It’s Cade. There’s an odd tone to his words and I quietly wonder if there’s news.
I glance at the customer in the chair, waiting for highlights to finish developing, “In about half an hour. Where would you like to meet?”
“I’ll see you at the salon.” He sounds distracted, like he has had one heck of a busy morning.
I smile, despite my frustration. “What if I have plans?”
“Do you?” He shoots back.
I sigh, “I’ll see you in half an hour.”
“Good.” His tone softens a little, “Thanks for agreeing at such short notice.”
We get off the phone and I turn back to my client. Only five more minutes on the highlights and I take my time preparing the equipment I will need, readying the sinks and more. Five minutes later and I am rubbing the lather into her hair, rinsing it out and styling it into a flattering cut, a quick blow dry and a spritz of hair product and another happy customer is leaving the salon. I glance at the clock, and tell my manager that I’m taking my break now.
Ducking into the back, I change into a more flattering shirt. I leave the same old jeans on – not really bothered to change them. A quick brush through my hair, flash of hair product and application of lipstick has me feeling a little fresher.
I pull on my coat, grab my bag and head out of the store. Cade is right on time, standing at the corner. He smiles at me and I feel my insides flutter despite myself. He’s carrying a single rose, which he presents to me, “Thank you for joining me.”
I shrug, although I cannot hide the blush that grows on my skin at the lovely gesture, “Thank you.”
We begin walking down the street, the cool air teasing my hair and brushing down my neck. I shiver and I can see Cade hunting for a suitable coffee shop. He eventually settles on a little one not far from my salon. It’s quaint, almost boutique and it is not the type of shop I would have thought Cade enjoyed.
We sit down and we both order our coffee. Cade orders a double shot of espresso and I notice the sallow look to his skin. He is as handsome as ever, and you’d have to have seen him many times to notice when he is looking a bit pale. There is little doubt in my mind, though – Cade is working himself hard.
When the coffee comes, he doesn’t hesitate in drinking it as quickly as he can. I sip mine slowly, enjoying the taste. “So, what’s the matter?”
“Does something need to be the matter for me to take my fiancée out to coffee?” He smiles, smooth as ever. Tired or not, he’s still the same as he always is.
I shrug, “You tell me. You seem a bit tired.”
Cade glances at me. “Busy morning. Got a phone call from the trust fund lawyer.”
The hair on the back of my neck prickles at the news and I feel a little sick, a little giddy at the thought. I’m trying to keep a straight face, but I am sure that I am failing hopelessly. “What about?” I ask as casually as I can.
There’s tension around Cade’s eyes, but he’s remarkably casual and calm, “Just a meeting to get all my documents in order.” He smiles and it looks a little thin, “Meet you, my fiancée. The usual.”
He’s as casual and composed, but I can feel the tension crackling in the air between us. His meaning is absolutely clear as day. They don’t believe our relationship is real. They’re going to do everything they can to disprove it. I feel nausea settle in my stomach.
I want to ask him questions, to talk about a game plan. Instead, I reach across the table and take his hand, looking at him lovingly. “I’d love to come with you. When’s the meeting?” I smile.
For a moment, I am convinced that I have caught Cade off guard. Then he sighs and I can tell that everything’s going smoothly again, “Wednesday.” He looks at me with concern so believable that I swear it is genuine, “Will you be able to get off work?”
I consider this in earnest for a moment, before I nod, “Should be okay. What time?”
“I’ll send you the details. The morning, I expect.” he smiles. “We should grab breakfast before the meeting.”
“Sounds great.” I have a sneaky suspicion that I will not be up for eating anything at all on the day of the meeting, but I will do whatever I need to in order to keep up the pretense.