Lynn Montagano - Effortless

“Fine,” she sighed. “We had dinner a couple of times. That’s it .”

I tapped a pen on my desk, wanting to be judicious with my words. “Listen, um. Just, you know, be—”

“I know,” she snapped. “You hate him and Alastair hates him so I have to hate him too.”

“That’s not what I was going to say. I just…I know how you are when people say negative things about—”

“Oh my God,” she grumbled. “Do you really think we sit around and talk about Alastair like he’s some fascinating subject? Jesus Christ. He’s your boyfriend. He has a bad history with Brent and his sister. I could give three flying shits about all that because it’s really none of my business. You need to stop convincing yourself that your relationship with Alastair fucking Holden is the end all, be all of the world.”

I sat in stunned silence, confused as to how this conversation took such a sour turn. When she was heated, Stephanie could be irrational.

“Fuck,” she muttered. “Look, I didn’t mean to fly off the handle like that. I’m PMS-ing and this deadline for creative is stressing me out and” —she sighed— “you know I love Alastair. And I love you. And you’re far from being the girl who thinks their relationship is the most important thing on the planet to everyone else. Did I cover them all?”

“I’m coming down to bring you Pamprin.”

“Smart ass. I’d rather have ice cream.” She paused. “I really am sorry.”

“Wow.” I snickered. “You hate apologizing so that PMS must be severe.”

”And yet you continue to test my limits, Amelia Grace,” she said. I could hear the smile in her voice. “We should get together this weekend and do something fun. Maybe we could take the train into Edinburgh for some lunch.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Fantastic. I gotta run. We’ll talk later.”

Shaking my head at Stephanie, I placed the phone in its cradle and emailed my sister to give her a quick update on how I was doing. I also promised to come visit her soon. I flirted with the idea of calling my mom but decided to wait until this weekend. She’d most likely want a detailed report on how everything was going here and wouldn’t take too kindly to being ushered off the phone after a brief conversation.

Eyeing the silver envelope again, I finished reading the invitation for Olivia’s bridal shower. The Hotel du Vin? I did a quick search online and learned it was a luxury boutique hotel in the West End. It looked quite lovely from the photos.

Maybe I should go .

I exorcized the thought from my mind before it had a chance to fester and grow. The last thing I wanted was to spend time with that girl.

* * *

Steady rain tapped against the windows, its delicate rhythmic dance relaxing me as I walked into the living room. Being alone in this big house put me on edge a little but only because I was still getting used to its size and some of the weird noises it made late at night. I decided against watching TV and chose to be nosey. Seeing as Alastair kept decorations to a bare minimum, there wasn’t much to see. Yes, the earth tones that drenched the room were gorgeous and luxurious but aside from the framed photos I’d put out the other night there wasn’t much here that screamed him .

I ran my fingers along a gold key that sat in a small crystal dish on one of the shelves while looking at some of his books. They were mostly reference books about various financial topics. Almost lost among them was a book that appeared to have no title on its spine.

“What’s this,” I mused, pulling it off the shelf. The soft, dark leather was old and worn, so I assumed it had to be a favorite novel of his or something. Opening it, I discovered it was an old diary. I saw the name Rose Taylor Holden handwritten in the front. Though small, I felt its weight in my hands after seeing his mother’s name. I scanned the shelf again, hoping to find another hidden treasure. One by one, they made themselves known; a tattered children’s book, an old photography manual, a comic book about someone named Moven Marvin.

The closer I looked, the more I could see that he did keep pieces of himself in this house. He just kept them hidden and protected, like he did with everything else.

A surge of love flowed through me as I returned the books to their proper places. What I first assumed to be nondescript decorations must have belonged to his parents. Every little figurine or bookend or delicate vase must be something from his childhood home.

His well-versed ability to show the world only what he wanted them to see extended to the privacy of his own house but was so subtle it went unnoticed. I trotted off to the bedroom and grabbed my phone.

10:49pm I miss you

11:02pm The plane is fueled and ready. Fly here now

11:03pm Wish I could

11:07pm You can. I’ll handle Archer

11:10pm Next time, Holden. You’re busy with work anyway. I’d be bored

11:11pm Not if I can help it

11:14pm Now you’re just teasing me

11:16pm Are you in bed?

11:18pm Yep

11:21pm Dream of me x

Curling up on the mattress, I hugged his pillow tight and smiled.

“ Why didn’t you call me as soon as it happened ?” Stephanie shrieked, staring at my hand. The handful of people standing to our left on the sidewalk gave her a dirty look. She didn’t care one bit and carried on. “Jesus Christ, it’s Friday. You’ve known all week and didn’t say anything. I mean, what’s the point of being your official-best-friend-unofficial-big-sister if you don’t tell me the important things ?”

Shivering, she pulled the jacket around her body tighter and shook her head. Her jet black hair had grown even longer, nipping at her shoulders like a swath of sultry, dark silk.

I gazed at the diamond, not bothered by her dramatics. “I’m telling you now. Before telling my actual flesh and blood sister and before telling my parents.”

“But you told Darren?”

“Hey, I called to see if you were free for lunch and you sent him in your place. Don’t blame me.”

She started to say something then stopped, knowing full well I was right. I smirked.

“Darren is so dead,” she muttered. “Did you set a date?”

“No.”

She flailed her arms. “Why not? We need to start planning this wedding immediately.”

I didn’t have the heart to quell her excitement…yet. She rummaged through her purse while spouting off all sorts of suggestions for a venue, a dress, a DJ, honeymoon destinations and photographers. When she ventured into the realm of having two weddings in two countries I had to put a stop to the insanity.

“I have an idea,” I interrupted her, putting my hands up. “How about Alastair and I enjoy being engaged for awhile before I scare the crap out of him with your cyclone of ideas and suggestions?”

“You’ve been engaged since July . How much longer do you need to enjoy it?”

“Steph.” I gave her a stern look.

“Fine.” She folded her arms. “But I’m throwing you an engagement party and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” Her eyes widened. “Your birthday is next week. Two parties!”

“Oh my God,” I snorted. “You’re out of control.”

She threw her head back in an exaggerated sigh and followed me toward the cafe to grab some coffee. Before I reached the door half a dozen guys holding cameras jumped up from one of the small tables out front and blocked my path. They all started snapping photos and talking at once.