He gestures to poor Tiffany, whose tears are flowing fresh at the sight of him.
I’m oblivious to the conversation that follows. I’m still transfixed by the realisation that this man holds more influence than I could imagine, and Tiff is caught up in a web far bigger than I could ever fix.
Reuben isn’t Heath.
Heath isn’t a founder.
We sure landed on our feet with that one.
Josh is still engaged in a standoff, founder or not. I pull myself together enough to ease my way in and pull him away. I take his hand and urge him from the scene, encouraging him, because this is not our business.
It’s Tiff and Reuben’s to sort out, and their road to find is their own. Just as we have to find ours.
I offerSantaa wave goodbye, listening to Josh’s curses all the way back to our apartment. His anger eases to sadness as his rational brain takes back hold, and I watch him settle down, letting him find himself.
And waiting for him to clock the parallels in our situations.
It doesn’t take him long.
One decent coffee from the coffee machine, and he’s sitting on a breakfast stool, staring at the mug.
“That’s love for her, even if it fucks her up.”
“I know,” I say. “And there is no standing in the way of that for her. No matter what you think of it. What will be for her has to be for her.”
Josh manages a smile.
“You sound like me.”
I laugh. “Maybe I’m learning.”
“No,” he says. “Maybe it’s me who has to learn here, because it puts things into perspective, doesn’t it? No matter the shitstorm, I’d have been off after Heath with my hand in yours, and nobody on this planet could stop me. Not if it was all or nothing at stake.”
“Same,” I reply. “I felt it, too. I realised it, too.”
We stare at each other in silence, and the tension in the air builds, our emotions mashing together.
“I’m sorry for my anger at you, baby. I’m glad you spoke to Orla,” Josh says, finally. “It was worth the risk, Ells, you made the right call.”
I nod. “Thanks. Yeah, I think so, too. Because the barriers need to come down, for all three of us. Whether they’re saving us from danger or not.”
“I agree.”
I take a sip of my coffee, my heart still racing for Tiff.
“What do we do now?” I ask Josh. “I mean, Orla knows about our client. She isn’t an idiot. It was obvious what I was talking about, even though I didn’t want to admit it.”
“What we do is ask Heath where his road really lies,” Josh replies. “It’s time to agree on the destination. Drifting in the world ofnormalcan get fucked. We’re already way too deep for that.”
I picture our calendar of mutual bookings, all lined up with Heath’s. Too structured. Too stagnant. Too restrained.
Josh pulls out his phone and calls up the app. He takes the earliest booking and suggests a calendar shift.
“What day are you choosing?” I ask him. “I know Heath is busy over the holidays.”
“He’s busy for most of the holidays,” Josh replies. “But I think he’ll know the meaning of this one. It says a lot.”
My eyes widen as he shows me the suggestion. I get a wave of hope at the very prospect.
