The Casanova (The Miles High Club Book 3)

The car pulls to a halt on the tarmac and I look over at Elliot. He’s pensive and staring out of the window. A million miles away.

He’s been quiet for the last few days; it must be hard for him to leave his family.

The driver takes our luggage from the trunk and carries it onto the plane.

“You ready?” Elliot asks, his voice quiet and monotone.

I smile with a nod. “I guess.” I lean up to kiss him and he pecks me quickly and opens the door. “They’re waiting.”

Oh. I exhale; since when does he care if people are waiting for him? I take it he’s not in the mood for kissing, then.

He takes my hand and helps me out of the car and then leads me up the stairs and onto the plane. We take our seats and he stares out of the window, deep in thought.

“I’m going to watch my favorite movie today on the flight.” I smile.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“The Greatest Showman.”

He smiles as if amused and he watches me as he leans back on the headrest. “Why is that your favorite movie?” he asks.

“I don’t know.” I shrug with a smile. “It’s about dreams coming true for the dreamers.”

A frown flashes across his face before he quickly covers it. “Sounds boring.”

“It’s not, you’ll see.”

“I’ll be moving to my desk after takeoff, I have work to do.”

“Oh.”

He takes my hand in his as the plane begins to take off down the runway. “You’ll have to watch it alone.”

I pick up his hand and kiss the back of it. “One day, I’ll strap you down to watch it.”

He chuckles. “Not if I strap you down first.”

I put my head on his shoulder. “El.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Thank you for taking me to meet your family, they’re more wonderful than I ever expected.”

He nods. “They are.” He falls deep into thought for a moment. “Although if I hear any of them knock twice on anything once more, I may strangle someone.”

I giggle. “Can you believe that—that’s how I met your mother?”

“A lot of unbelievable things have happened this week.” He stares straight ahead, seemingly falling serious.

The plane takes off into the sky and I smile as I stare out of the window. I can’t wait to message Ed and discuss the week.

I get 10 percent of my information from Elliot, and the other 90 percent of his feelings from Ed.

Although, I have to admit, the last two weeks have been a dream come true in Elliot’s arms. I couldn’t ask for a more adoring, tender lover.

Fun, too.

“I wonder how the girls are?” I ask.

A broad smile crosses his face, the first one of the day. “I hope they’ve been guarding the lake as instructed.”

My heart swells.

“What is that look?” He raises an eyebrow. “What do you think about when you look at me like that?”

I drop my head and smile shyly. “It’s not so much a look, as a feeling.”

He stares at me.

“When you’re happy, it makes me happy,” I whisper. “When you smile, really smile, I feel it all the way to my bones.”

He frowns and drops his head and stares at his shoes.

I kiss his shoulder. “You’re very special to me, Elliot,” I whisper. “You know that, don’t you?”

He inhales sharply and sits forward in his seat. “I have to work.” He gets up and takes his briefcase out of the overhead and moves his things to the desk a few rows behind us.

I lean around the chairs. “Last call to watch The Greatest Showman.” I bat my eyelashes to try and make myself look cute.

“It’s a hard pass,” he says flatly as he falls into his seat.

I chuckle and put my headphones on and click the screen. Mr. Boring Businessman is in town.

The plane comes to a halt on the tarmac and I frown: Elliot is still back at his desk working. He hasn’t come near me for the entire flight.

I mean, I know he had to work, but . . . it was unlike him.

He appears beside me and opens the overhead. “How was your movie?” he asks.

“Good, great.” I smile. “Did you get your work done?”

“No. Not all of it.”

He seems stressed. “Anything I can help with?”

“No.” He holds his hand out for me. “Come.”

He thanks the cabin crew and we make our way down the stairs; Andrew and the Bentley are waiting.

“Hello Kate.” He smiles as he puts our things into the trunk. “I trust you had a good week away?”

“Hi Andrew.” I beam. “We had the best week.”

Elliot gets into the car and slams the door. “Dropping Kate home at her house please, Andrew.”

Andrew’s eyes flick up to him in the rearview mirror. “Yes sir.”

I frown over at Elliot.

“I have work to do, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“I don’t mind.”

He picks up my hand and kisses my fingertips. “I’m not having you sit there alone while I work. Go home and see your friends.”

I stare at him: something’s wrong.

“Is everything alright?” I whisper.

He stares at me as he presses his lips together, as if he’s stopping himself from saying something.

My heart drops.

If there’s one thing I do know about Elliot Miles it’s that he can’t lie. His inability to answer that question just cemented my concerns.

Something is wrong.

What is it?

Elliot’s gaze goes outside and with his elbow on the window he watches the world go by. My hand is held tight inside his hand but he’s not here with me, he’s miles away.

I just don’t know where.

We arrive at my house and Elliot climbs out and retrieves my suitcase.

I don’t want to be here, I want to go to Enchanted to see the girls and check on Gretel the goat.

“I’ll carry your suitcase up the stairs—” he says.

“I’ve got it,” I cut him off.

He stares down at me, and I don’t know why but I get the feeling he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Goodbye, darling.” He kisses me softly. I lean into the kiss and he pulls out of it. “See you tomorrow.”

I nod, and before I can answer he’s back in the car and the door slams shut.

I wheel my suitcase across the street and the car pulls away. I frown as I watch it disappear.

What was that about?

I carry my suitcase up the steps and open the front door to the apartment. “Hello,” I call. “I’m home.”

Silence.

My shoulders slump. “Great, they aren’t even home.” I exhale and begin to drag my suitcase up the stairs.

Oh well, I suppose some time to myself will do me good.

I haven’t done it in so long.

I’ll put a treatment in my hair and a face mask on, get some Uber Eats. I smile as my little room comes into view.

One night without Elliot Miles won’t kill me.

It’s late and I lie in the darkness.

I messaged Ed earlier tonight when I got home but he hasn’t yet replied.

Elliot hasn’t called to say goodnight either. It’s not like him, he’s usually so attentive.

Weird.

Did he have something on? Was he going somewhere?

I’ve got this sick feeling in my stomach, like something is wrong but I don’t know what. I mean, he was a little bit evasive today but surely not enough to warrant this anxiety.

Is my gut telling me something?

My phone pings with a notification and I smile. Ed.

I jump out of bed and grab my phone and flick the table lamp on.

Hi Pinkie,

Sorry I haven’t messaged you in a few days. I’ve been away seeing my family.

How are you?

I smile and reply:

That’s okay, I missed you.

Tell me about your trip.

His reply bounces in.

My trip was incredible, Kate came with me and met my family. Although I should have known it was all going too well.

I frown. What?

Why, what happened?

I got an email last night, I’ve finally found the artist that I’ve been searching for.

I smile. Oh my God. He found her.

Excitement fills me.

This is amazing!

No, it’s not.

She’s not an old lady as I thought, she’s young and beautiful.

Unattached.

I frown. What does that mean?

I read on.

I know who she is, I’ve seen her at auctions and have wanted to chase her before to ask her out. I’ve always felt like she was someone that I was supposed to meet.

I searched for her, even made my brothers follow her once.

And now to find that it was her paintings that have been calling me for so long . . .

I fear my fate has come to find me when I’ve finally found someone who makes me happy.

No.

Wait . . .

I read that last message again and my chest constricts.

What?

I put my head into my hands; this can’t be happening.

No.

You believe this woman, the artist, is your fate?

I don’t want to have regrets.

I can’t go forward with my life and always regret not going to her and finding out what may have been.

This woman has been in my heart long before anyone else.

The words blur as tears cloud my vision.

What about Kate?

I’m confused.

For the first time in my life, I’m happy with where I am, who I am with.

I feel complete, and yet . . . I can’t stop thinking that I have to go to her.

To see for myself if this is where I’m supposed to be.

Why now?

Why have I only found her now when I’ve been searching for her all along?

Why has fate been so cruel to deliver her to me when I care so much for someone else?

I sob out loud.

I’m going to lose him.

What should I do, Pinkie?

I slam my computer shut.

The lump is big in my throat and painful, and I angrily wipe my tears away.

This isn’t happening. Tell me this isn’t fucking happening.

I begin to pace, back and forth. What do I write back?

The worst part is, I already know what a friend would say.

A friend would tell him that he should go to her, that he should follow his gut feeling and find out if she’s the one he’s been searching for all along.

That he’s stupid if he ignores his heart, because it’s never wrong.

How could he ignore this sign and be with another?

But I love him.

My chest hurts and I sob out loud.

A deep sense of dread fills my every cell.

I walk into the bathroom and turn the hot water in the shower on, climb in, and cry.

It’s 3 a.m. I lie in the darkness.

A sense of dread is slowly pumping through my veins as if the hope is draining out, and I know that life isn’t fair sometimes.

Over the last month I’ve been happier than I’ve felt in years. Elliot brought me into his home, shared his farm animals, and showed me what it felt like to be truly cared for. He introduced me to his family and for the first time in a long time, I felt included, as if I were one of them.

The thought of not seeing his family again is another dagger to the heart.

Elizabeth.

I know that I’m standing on the precipice of heartache, and I can’t even begin to understand the depths of the darkness that await me if he goes.

I love him.

Maybe more than I love myself, because his happiness is what I want above all else.

I want him fulfilled, and what good is he to me if his heart is with her? I get a painful lump in my throat because, deep down, I know the truth.

It was always with her.

Oh . . . This hurts.

The worst part is, I can’t even tell him that I know.

This stupid fucking game of online chatting we play . . . has come back to haunt me.

This is what you get for lying to someone, Kate.

I deserve everything I’m getting and then some.

I’ve deceived Elliot for weeks, and I knew it was wrong and I was going to tell him, but the right time never came around.

I thought it was harmless, I now know it’s not.

With a shaky breath I get up and open my computer. I write to Ed.

You should follow your heart Ed.

A message bounces straight back. Why is he still awake?

I don’t want to hurt Kate.

I screw up my face in tears. Too late.

The computer screen is blurred.

It’s your heart that you have to live with, follow it.

Kate would want you to be happy.

She loves you.

Xoxo

Hello darkness, my old friend.

It’s been a while since you graced me with your presence, I can’t say that I’ve missed you.

I sit at my desk and stare out the window. It’s 3 p.m. and I haven’t heard from Elliot.

I don’t expect to.

A million emotions have run through me: sadness, regret, anger . . . but mostly disappointment.

I can see it so clearly now—he and I had fun, but he was always searching for the dream, the fairy-tale ending.

And I’m not talented or special, least of all extraordinary.

It was never me.

And I hate that for a brief moment I forgot that—it hurts.

I remember the love that we made, the laughter we had. The tenderness we shared.

It felt so real.

Like a fairy tale to me, only better.

My eyes fill with tears and I blink them away.

Maybe he won’t go?

Paul walks past and glances in and then stops in his tracks and comes back. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” I fake a smile with a subtle shake of my head. “Sorry, just had some bad news about a relative.”

“Do you want to go home?”

“No,” I answer way too fast, I don’t want Elliot to know that I know. “I’m fine. Just a bit teary, don’t pay me any attention.”

“There’s some birthday cake in the staff-room fridge, you want some?”

I smile, grateful for the kindness. “I do. Bring the whole damn thing.”

It’s 11 p.m. and I sit at the window and stare out over the street.

The house is quiet for the night and my facade has dropped. I went out to dinner with Daniel and Rebecca tonight and had to pretend that everything was great between Elliot and I.

I couldn’t tell them what I know or how, and I’ve been lying to them about my Pinkie persona too.

This situation is one big fucked-up deception and I deserve to have my heart broken alone.

And maybe if Elliot cared enough to want to see me, I would tell him so.

But he doesn’t.

Because he’s at Enchanted thinking about her.

My eyes well with tears and I close them in regret. I hate this, I hate the whole fucking thing.

A car comes around the corner and I watch it slowly pull in and park. Elliot gets out.

Oh no.

Shit.

I run and dive into bed, pick up my phone: five missed calls from Elliot.

I hear a knock downstairs and then Daniel’s voice.

I pull the blankets up over me and pretend to sleep, my heart racing hard and fast, and I inhale deeply to try and calm myself down.

My bedroom door opens and Elliot comes in and sits beside me on the bed. “Babe,” he says softly, “are you awake?”

I roll toward him and he takes my face in his hand and I stare up at him.

“Hi,” he whispers sadly.

“Hi.” I force a smile.

“I have to go to France tomorrow, sweetheart,” he whispers.

My heart constricts. He’s here to say goodbye.

I nod, unable to push a word past my lips.

“Can I stay?” he asks.

I clench my hands into fists; how am I supposed to do this?

Say goodbye with love when he’s breaking my fucking heart?

I should be kicking him out, I should be punching him square in the face.

I should hate him.

He takes his clothes off and climbs in beside me. His lips take mine, and I can feel the heartbreak as it radiates out of him. He’s right here in hell with me.

This isn’t his fault, he’s a good man.

His eyes search mine. “Tell me you love me,” he whispers. “Just once.”

My heart begins to ache and I know this is it, our last dance together; his silhouette blurs. “I love you.”

We kiss, and my face screws up against his.

Don’t go.

For a long time, we kiss, until my heart can’t take it anymore. I need this goodbye over . . . I can’t do this.

I’m not strong enough. “I need you,” I whisper.

He crawls over me and slides in deep, his head buried in my shoulder, and I screw up my face as I stare at the ceiling.

He moves slowly, carefully, as if I’m breakable. He always said that he loves me when I’m vulnerable.

Here I am in Imax; I’ve never felt so unprotected in my life.

Defenseless.

His body heats up and he moves slowly to bring himself closer. He spreads his knees and wraps my legs around his hips, but I have no chance of climaxing tonight.

How could I possibly feel physical pleasure when I’m in such pain?

He may as well be stabbing me in the heart, it would feel the same.

He holds himself deep and shudders as he comes. His lips run up and down my neck, a tender love song of affection.

I stare at the ceiling, lifeless.

I feel the hot lone tear roll down my face and into my ear.

He rolls off me and falls onto his back, glances over and sees my tears, and throws his forearm over his eyes, as if to shield himself. He’s unable to deal with me.

Or unwilling.

After a while, “Go to sleep, sweetheart,” he whispers.

I stay silent and stare at the ceiling, my heart shattering into a million pieces.

Go to hell.

The dawn light peeks through the side of the blinds, and I watch him put his suit on from my place in bed. Gone is my tender lover from last night.

Elliot Miles is here this morning, and I’m glad. Because he’s easier to hate.

“When will you be back?” I ask.

“I’m not sure,” he says as he pulls his jacket over his shoulders.

He can’t even look at me.

He pats his trouser pockets as he checks he has everything; I should ask him if I can have my heart back before he leaves. He’s had it in his possession since the first night we spent together, unashamedly so.

His eyes find me across the room and I force a smile. “Have a nice trip.”

“I don’t want to go,” he whispers.

“But you will.”

We stare at each other and eventually, as if making an internal decision, he closes his eyes. “Goodbye, Kate,” he murmurs.

“Goodbye, Elliot.”

He walks over to me and takes my face in his hands and kisses me, and this time it’s his face that screws up against mine. He knows, he knows that if he does this then we are done.

Without one word, he turns and walks out, and the door clicks quietly behind him.

I inhale with a shaky breath.

He went anyway.