“Do not buy her a bakery!” Jeeves says as he saunters out of the room off to do whatever he does that keeps my life spinning. He either has a direct line into my brain or he’s a psychic.
Okay, so bakery out. Diamonds out. How do I spend more time with her?
“Ask Reilly out on a date!!” Neive shouts from the other room, before making her way into my office. Another member of my family who has an inside line into my thought process. “Jesus, Uncle Elton, you run this huge company and have all the staff and business stuff you do but you can’t work out how to make Reilly like you. I’m concerned for my future if these are my genetics.” Getting schooled by my niece is a new low.
“Stop eavesdropping, it’s rude,” I chastise her. Which she ignores and flops herself onto my office sofa, making herself comfortable as she pulls out her phone and scrolls.
“Also, you do it in person. Obviously,” she adds. This one is getting way too sassy. It was not obvious to me. Thank god I have sensible people around me. I’m losing my mind over Reilly.
TWENTY
Reilly
It’s been two weeks of gifts, flowers, and “thinking of you” texts. Which has been lovely and thoughtful. But the one thing that is missing is Elton. He’s been in London on business, and he took Neive with him, so I haven’t seen her either.
I’ve received a fresh bunch of flowers every three days, and an array of gifts. I’ve run out of vases and have had to resort to splitting them between jars and cutting the tops off plastic bottles. Not quite what I imagine these flowers are used to. I don’t know what to do with all the clothes and jewellery – the boxes are piled up in the bottom of my wardrobe. I’m too conscious to parade them out in public. Every time I open a package, the roll of excitement is overshadowed by the foghorn siren screaming, “This isn’t for you!”
The doorbell goes, and Chip loses his mind. Hopping around in circles, slidingon the wooden floor.
“Ready, darling?” Thea beams as I open the door. She’s wearing a knee-length summer dress and a white cardigan. We are only going for a quick coffee, but Thea manages to bring class to the outing. Which is a nice counterpart to my leggings and oversized hoodie. I’m dressing my feelings today. We head down the road, Chip happily nipping at our heels. He loves a little adventure, and it’s a huge bonus that our favourite coffee shop allows dogs.
Opening the door, I take in the smell that soothes me every time without fail. I grab a couple of coffees, and we find a quiet corner to catch up. This coffee shop is a classic hipster paradise: exposed bricks, indie playlist and the perfect flat white.
My phone buzzes across the table. Warmth spreads through me. However, my heart plummets whenTwatface Timathylights up on the screen – Sarah needs to stay off my phone. I flip my phone over on the table to deal with later, or never.
“Is he still trying to get in contact with you?” Thea asks, staring daggers towards my phone as if she can telepathically send them his way. She took an instant dislike to him when they first met. That should have been my first red flag.
“Every now and then.” I shrug. “Texts. The odd phone call. Normally when he’s drunk. He wants to meet and ‘work things through’,” I say with air quotes and an eye roll. I flip the phone back up, swiping away Tim’s notification and relighting the screen in case I’ve missed any other calls.
“Were you expecting someone else?” she asks, hiding her smirk behind her coffee cup.
“Elton.” I smile sheepishly. I’ve told the girls about the gifts but haven’t admitted how uncomfortable I am with it. “It’s actually my reason for asking you for coffee.” Obviously, my first reason being to spend time with my bestie, but my ulterior motive is for good old-fashioned boy advice.
Thea leans in, intrigued, obviously ready for me to spill the tea.
“Elton’s rich,” I start my attempt to explain my painful thought process. Thea nods, waiting for me to continue. “Really rich. I’m not sure how rich, but his house and cars, they’re outrageous. He tried to pay me £10,000 to teach Neive how to bake. It’s insane. He has unspeakable wealth.” Thea frowns, confused. She doesn’t get where I’m going with this. “I’m not rich.” Again, Thea nods in agreement. “Really not rich. I’m back living with my mum. I shop at Lidl. I have a strict monthly budget I cannot exceed. I am borderline poor.”
She is still staring at me, her head tilted to the side as she waits for me to get to the point.
“You’re rich.” I point at Thea. She opens her mouth to respond but then decides against it and just nods, waiting for my next statement. “It’s all a bit … gah, I don’t know. Is it wrong if I feel weird about it all? Or would it be wrong if I didn’t feel weird?” My eyes widen at the realisation that maybe actually having concern over wealth disparities is very common and the healthier outlook on it.
What? Shut up, Reilly.
She puffs a breath out. “Okay. Right. I don’t understand your question.”Not sure how, it’s a pretty straightforward question. “But if your concern is Elton is going to lord his wealth over you like Tim did, that’s not something you need to worry about.” Her voice is soft as she leans across and grabs my hand. There is pity in her eyes. She can see how much I like Elton and how much something like this would bother me.
“I don’t belong in that world, Thea. It makes me uncomfortable. He keeps buying me things. And oh my god, you should see his house. It’s bloody huge.” My voice is small as I confess my feelings.
“Darling. This is not that deep. Yes, he has money. But I have money. Have we ever had issues?” she asks, leaning back with her hand to her chest. I shake my head at her. She’s right. I’m making mountains out of molehills. “Is he throwing his money around like Tim used to?” She throws her hands out to the sides. Every now and then, Thea radiates “old-money”.
I scoff. “Tim wishes he could throw that sort of money around.” We both laugh at my ex’s pitiful obsession with status and wealth. “No,” I admit. “He’s humble and values his family. I know that. I wish the annoying voice in my head did.”
Every time I start to imagine this relationship developing, my inner demon screams that it won’t last, he will realise I don’t belong with him. My own father didn’t want me. Why would someone else?
“Reilly. Good morning.” The deep, soulful voice of Jeeves comes from behind me.
“Hey, Jeeves. You’re back from London?” I say, looking around to see if he is alone.
“A few things needed to be dealt with here. Elton and Neive will be back in a few days.” He smiles down at Thea. “Hello again, Theadora.” His voice drops a few octaves, becoming sinfully sexy.
