Chapter 24
Mira
My sister is up to something. There is no other explanation for the impromptu mentoring event she arranged for the four of us. Elliot must be swamped with work, yet Lena clearly has him wrapped around her little finger. She thinks she is being clever, but I see right through her.
Still, how can I say no to her? The whole point of this project is to help the mentees become more independent. I would be the biggest hypocrite alive if I told my sister I did not need her help.
This pumpkin thing seemed like a good idea, but I seriously regret agreeing to it. Especially since she showed up at my place with only two pumpkins and a mischievous smile on her lips.
"No big deal. Everyone forgets things once in a while."
Lena smiles, revealing a tiny spark in her eyes that I find suspicious. I have only seen that expression on her face twice before, and both times she ended up grounded.
"But how did you manage to forget two of the four pumpkins?"
I point at the two gigantic gourds making my kitchen look even tinier.
"The vendor didn't have enough left."
"That lie is evolving fast," I reply, planting my fists on my hips like my mother.
"It's the truth."
Her eyes sweep the entire room to avoid meeting mine.
"They ran out of pumpkins at the beginning of October?" I ask dryly.
"Yes, it's really strange! There must be a shortage."
What a little liar! I never thought I would see the day my sister tried to play matchmaker for me.
I glance sideways at Elliot. What is he thinking? Absorbed in his phone, he does not bother looking at us.
Great. He's a huge help.
"J-P and I want to make one together," Lena says, grabbing one of the pumpkins.
"Oh, do you? Imagine that," I answer coolly.
My sister is usually adorable and sweet when she acts all lovestruck, but this... This is seriously awkward for me.
J-P chooses that moment to wrap his arms around Lena and kiss her forehead.
Who am I kidding? They're always too cute.
"Okay, let's get started!"
J-P takes the pumpkin from my sister's arms and carries it into the dining room, where I was supposed to carve one with him.
With a heavy sigh, I rearrange all the tools into a line.
"You don't have to join in if you have something better to do."
Elliot looks up, frowning.
"If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be."
"Why did you come?"
"Your sister asked me to," he replies, still impassive.
My spirits plummet. Poor idiot. Did you really think he came to spend time with you? Of course he's here for Lena!
"Shouldn't you be at work?"
Maybe if I remind him of his responsibilities, he will remember some email or other that slipped his mind and make a run for it.
"It's Saturday."
I stare at him blankly.
"I thought you worked every day."
"I do."
"We seriously need to talk about your work-life balance."
"It's simple: my life is my work. No balance required."
I burst out laughing, bracing both hands on the counter.
"That is the saddest thing that has ever come out of your mouth."
"Why?" he asks, looking perplexed.
"What's the point of having that much money if you never enjoy it?"
Elliot looks stunned by my statement. Has the idea never occurred to him? The man may be damn smart, but someone needs to set him straight about his addiction to work.
He shakes his head as though trying to dislodge a thought.
"If money were no object, what would you do?"
"Oh, the possibilities are endless!"
"Coming from you, that is terrifying."
"Well, for starters, I'd donate to charity."
His expression darkens.
"We already support charities."
"Only for the tax deduction. Have you ever attended a charity event that didn't include champagne and caviar?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Caviar is disgusting."
Elliot wrinkles his nose as he says it. It's adorable.
Adorable? I growl inwardly.
"You should spend a day working at a homeless shelter. Then maybe you'd think twice before walking around in shoes worth more than a month's rent."
"I didn't realize my question was going to turn this conversation into an inquisition."
"You asked, I answered," I say with a shrug.
"And that's all you'd do with your infinite funds? Donate?"
"No, not only that," I admit with a small laugh. "I'd keep some to buy first editions of all my favorite books."
"Books," he groans, looking up at the ceiling as though God might intervene. "Wouldn't you want more pins?"
I freeze.
"What do you mean?"
"Wouldn't you buy more?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because that's not how it works."
"Then how does it work?"
I sigh.
"It's a long story."
"So?" he says, sweeping his gaze around the empty kitchen. "We have time, don't we?"
"I don't want to talk about it with you," I blurt, tense.
Damn. My eyes widen, startled by the words that came out of my mouth, but I stop myself from apologizing.
"I didn't know it was a sensitive subject."
I do not know whether it is only my imagination, but the air between us seems to grow heavier. Eventually, I look away.
"It's... It's just not something I talk about much."
Except with Elise and my family.
"I understand."
No, he does not understand, but I am not going to tell him my whole story. It is impossible for a man like him to understand someone like me. He is so completely in control of himself, while I am... broken.
No, you're not anymore. You're doing better. You've grown stronger.
I uncap a permanent marker and bring it toward the pumpkin's stem.
"Put down your weapon," Elliot orders, stopping my hand.
His joke eases the tension.
"Out of everything on the counter, the marker is the weapon to you?"
I point to the knife lying only a few inches from him.
"It is when you don't know what you're doing."
"Excuse me? I won the building's pumpkin-carving contest last year."
Skeptical, Elliot raises an eyebrow.
"Okay, I'm exaggerating. But I did get an honorable mention. They gave me a ribbon and everything."
He bursts out laughing. I love his laugh. It is genuine and a little rough. I let that rare sound wash over me, with only one thought in my head: how can I make him laugh again?
When he opens his eyes again, he startles.
"What?"
"Who are you, and what have you done with the real Elliot?"
"What do you mean?" he asks, frowning.
"Can you do it again?" I ask, raising my phone toward him.
"Laugh, you mean?"
"Yes. I need to record it this time."
He loses the battle and smiles at me.
"Why?"
"Because this is a historic event!"
Elliot turns the pumpkin over.
"You really are..." he begins, shaking his head.
"Incredibly awesome!" I finish for him.
His smile vanishes as though it never existed.
What did I say?
Maybe he does not like it when people compliment themselves?
"What are you doing?" I ask, admiring his perfectly symmetrical circle.
He picks up the knife and cuts into the bottom of the pumpkin.
"Don't ask stupid questions."
"Hey! There's no such thing as a stupid question!"
"Want to guess who came up with that saying?" he replies dryly.
I flip him off behind my back. Suddenly, his smile makes another appearance. I consider it a small victory.
"Let me rephrase my question. Why are you choosing to cut the lid from the bottom?"
He finishes cutting the pumpkin before setting the knife down.
"Because that's what the experts recommend."
"The experts?"
"Yes. According to the articles I read, making the opening at the bottom keeps the pumpkin from collapsing in on itself."
"Oh, really? I didn't know that."
But seriously, who researches pumpkin carving?
Elliot G. (middle name still unknown) Vale, that's who! The man is meticulous in everything he does.
"Your sister sent me a picture of you with your honorable-mention-worthy pumpkin. I figured I wouldn't be doing anyone any favors if I showed up unprepared."
"How did you know we'd be partners?"
"She told me beforehand."
"And you decided to come anyway?"
My legs unsteady, I lean against the counter to stay upright.
Elliot merely shrugs. How does he remain so calm in a situation like this?
"Why did you come?"
"Because I wanted to."
I am not sure what I should make of that revelation. For some strange reason, Elliot wants to spend time with me. He is even willing to take a break from work.
But why? What has changed? Even if we have this strange physical attraction to each other, not much is different between us. Aside from dinner at the office the other night.
And yet he came here to spend time with you.
"Your turn," he says, pushing the pumpkin toward me.
"It's gross. Lena usually handles this part."
I study the pumpkin's brains, wrinkling my nose. With an exasperated sigh, Elliot takes the vegetable back.
"You're the best!"
I flash him a wide smile as I hand him the garbage bag. He tries to hide his smile by lowering his head, but I see it anyway. Another wave of warmth washes over me.
Together, Elliot and I carve our pumpkin. Once our masterpiece is finished, I realize that I genuinely enjoy his company.