Page 6 of Suddenly Desired (APEX Billionaires’ Club #2)

ELLIE

Ellie pushed through the door into the cool, air-conditioned café, happy to leave the sweltering heat outside. She wasn’t due to start her shift for another two hours, but Lissa always needed the help, and it wasn’t like there was anything waiting for her at home.

There was something waiting for her there, though, something distinctly unpleasant.

Josh. Urgh. There he was at his usual corner table, swirling a sad, lukewarm coffee, his pale grey eyes darting around the room.

She froze, debating whether or not she could slip out unnoticed, but it was too late.

His round face lit up, and he stood so quickly that his chair almost toppled over.

“Ellie!” he called out, running a hand through his thinning blond hair as he approached.

“How did it go? I was waiting for you. I wanted to be the first to find out whether you sank or swam.” His smile was sharp, almost amused.

“I’m guessing by the look on your face you didn’t sink so much as drown. ”

Ellie dragged her gaze over to Lissa, who was busy frothing milk at the machine. Lissa shrugged helplessly, and Ellie walked to the counter. Josh practically sprinted between the tables to meet her there, opening his arms for a hug.

Every time. Even though she’d asked him not to. They’d been broken up for nearly two months now, but after two years together, he still didn’t seem to understand boundaries.

“Josh, don’t . . .” But it was too late. He had her in a bear hug that reeked of the Deep Heat he rubbed perpetually on his sore back.

She gave him the world’s most unenthusiastic pat, counting the seconds until he let go and she could breathe again.

“So?” he pressed, his watery eyes blinking at her. “Did you get in?”

“No,” she said. She turned to Lissa, watching her boss work the coffee machine. Lissa was in her fifties and was as much a kindly aunt as a boss. Ellie felt like she could tell her anything, even with Josh simpering next to her. “Something happened.”

“The curse?” Lissa said. “I’m sorry, Ellie.”

“It wasn’t me,” she started. “There was something—”

“I always said you have to be more confident,” Josh interrupted, brushing something off her shoulder, his fingers lingering.

Ellie took a step away from him, but he closed in, oblivious to her efforts to escape. “You should have listened to me. When you come to your senses and we get back together I’ll show you the best way to succeed in a job interview. Consider it a perk.”

This was coming from the thirty-three-year-old man who still worked in his dad’s music shop and hadn’t been to a single job interview in his life.

“Interviews are all about personality,” he went on, still oblivious. “You’ve got one — you just have to let it show instead of keeping it hidden all the time. They probably just thought you were shy or something.”

Her patience stretched thin, she pushed past him, heading for the stock-room-slash-staff room.

She reached out to close the door behind her, but Josh was right there, still going on about her faults.

It had been one of his favourite things to do when they were together, and it seemed that being apart was no barrier to his arrogance.

She held out a hand to stop him. “I need to get changed, Josh.”

His eyes ran over her, his wet lips peeling open into a smile.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, babe.”

Gross! She slammed the door in his face. How did I ever think he was attractive, or kind, or . . . urgh.

Oh right, the music. The stupid, perfect music.

She could still picture the first time she’d walked into his family’s shop, years ago. He’d been sitting at a grand piano in the corner, playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata like it was the only thing that mattered. It had been mesmerising, and for a moment, she’d thought maybe he was too.

She’d asked him about lessons and he’d offered his services on the spot, all charm and confidence.

What had started off as a half-hour class every week in the back room of the shop had fast grown into a full-blown relationship.

At first, he’d seemed so perfect for her.

Sure, he hadn’t been her usual type, but he liked the same music, the same movies, the same books.

And the way he played the piano? It felt like a sign.

Anyone who could play as well as he did, had to be a good person, right?

For a while she believed it. But after a year, the cracks had started to show.

It was her mum who’d started plucking at the strings, unravelling what turned out to be an elaborate sham.

One evening, during dinner at the family farmhouse, her mum had pulled the dust sheet from the old piano, opened up some yellowing music books and asked Josh to give them a good, old-fashioned singsong.

He’d gone bright red and made every excuse under the sun, eventually storming off in a huff, claiming that they were putting him under too much pressure.

After that, it hadn’t taken Ellie long to work out that Josh couldn’t play the piano at all, other than a few pieces he’d learned off by heart.

He certainly couldn’t read a single note of music.

He’d been studying online piano courses every week then regurgitating the information to her during their classes, while posing as a master tutor.

And all the things he’d claimed to be interested in he’d just lifted from her Heartbook account.

He was a fraud, and a conman, and she’d fallen hook, line and sinker for it.

The worst part, though? It had taken her another year to work up the courage to end the relationship.

Every time she’d tried, he’d found an excuse to keep it going: It’s just your hormones, you’re overreacting.

You can’t leave me, we’re renting this place together and we’ll lose so much money.

I read an article saying that keeping things from your significant other was a guaranteed way of adding spice.

I won’t cope without you, I don’t think I could even go on living.

And she’d believed him. Every. Single. Time.

The breaking point came one morning when she caught him logged into her Heartbook account, typing out messages as her .

He wasn’t even subtle about it — replying to her friends, declining party invites, deleting conversations.

Worse, he’d been intercepting emails from companies she’d applied to, quietly sabotaging her chances at job interviews.

“I’m doing it for your own good,” he’d told her, furious at her for being furious at him. “I know what’s best for you, I always have. If you don’t want my help, then you don’t deserve me.”

That was it. That had been the final straw.

Ellie slung her bag on the hook and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to push the frustration away.

The worst part was that she still hadn’t managed to kick Josh out of her life.

He was utterly convinced that they were destined to get back together and with her luck — and thanks to the Ellie Mae Curse — he was probably right.

“No,” she muttered under her breath, unbuttoning her dress and shrugging out of it. She hung it neatly next to her bag and glanced at her reflection in the full-length mirror wedged awkwardly between the shelves of coffee supplies.

Her mum always said she was beautiful, but Ellie never saw it.

She had always been too short for supermodel status, and though her legs were toned from long shifts on her feet, Ellie always focused on what she saw as her flaws.

Her eyes were too big, framed behind thick glasses she’d worn since she was six, her lips too full, her nose too freckled, and her hair — a mass of thick waves — seemed to have a life of its own.

If she squinted — or took her glasses off — she could almost convince herself she was cute.

But most of the time she just felt . . . average.

She exhaled and reached for her uniform, and as she did her thoughts snagged on something unexpected.

That moment, earlier, when she’d collided with Blake Fielding.

Now where had that come from? Even now she cringed at the memory — dropping her phone, tipping the contents of her bag at his feet — but the thought of him didn’t make her feel bad. Not at all.

In fact, she was struggling to get him out of her head.

He’d been something else. It wasn’t just the jawline, or his sun-kissed skin, or even the sparkling blue oceans of his eyes.

It wasn’t his tousled hair, or the impressive physique barely contained beneath the cut of his suit.

No, it had been something else, something about the warmth in his voice and the softness in his expression that she couldn’t forget.

Thanks for listening , he’d said.

A scorch of electricity travelled up her body as she remembered the way he’d smiled at her.

It was the kind of smile that set her skin tingling with anticipation.

Even now, standing in the cool stock room in nothing but her underwear, her face was burning up at the thought of it.

She’d been face to face with Blake Fielding, she’d touched Blake Fielding, she’d been close enough to reach out and kiss—

Behind her, the door opened. Ellie yelped, wrapping her hands around herself.

She spun around. “Josh, I swear—”

But it was just Lissa, hefting a box of long-life milk from the floor like it weighed nothing.

“Sorry,” she said, blinking at her. “You okay? You look a bit flushed.”

Ellie grabbed her uniform, shaking her head. “Uh, I’m fine. It’s just hot in here.” It wasn’t a total lie.

“You deserve better,” Lissa said, interpreting Ellie’s expression as one of disappointment. “As much as I’d hate to lose you, that Heartbook job should be yours.”

“I never even got the chance to interview,” Ellie muttered. “It was cancelled. The whole ‘Blake Fielding hates women’ thing.”

“I know,” Lissa said. “It’s on the TV right now.”

Ellie scrabbled into her work trousers and shoes, buttoning her shirt as she left the stock room.

She cleaned her glasses on her shirt and squinted at the little TV.

Sure enough it was tuned to the news, a picture of Blake splashed behind the anchor.

They’d obviously trawled the internet to find the least flattering photograph they could — a grainy corporate shot with a suited, miserable-looking Blake glaring at the camera, his arms folded arrogantly over his chest.

“Turn it up,” said Ellie, pulling an apron from the side of the counter and tying it behind her back.

Lissa fiddled with the volume until it could be heard over the hiss of the coffee machine and the chatter of customers.

“. . . continue to fall as Heartbook CEO Blake Fielding battles allegations of sexism. The company has yet to offer a formal statement, but earlier today Fielding addressed reporters at the Heartbook campus. ”

“What a creep,” said Josh, who had sneaked up behind Ellie, his breath hot on her neck. “That guy is gonna get canned.”

Lissa hushed him as Ellie squirmed away.

On-screen, Blake was standing in front of a camera doing his best to smile.

Ellie’s heart did a somersault as she watched him.

The screen had diminished his looks a little, but when he looked at the camera Ellie shivered — feeling once again like he was staring directly at her.

And then she saw it in his hand.

Her heart plummeted as her eyes locked on to the notebook he was holding. Her notebook. The same one she’d dropped by the river. She gripped the counter to steady herself, biting back a gasp.

That notebook hadn’t just been where she’d written the notes for her interview — it contained a million and one other things, ninety-five percent of which were unbearably embarrassing. Please don’t read it, please don’t read it .

Blake was waving the notebook like it was a sword. The noise of the reporters all but drowned out his voice, but it almost sounded like he was saying, “It was me who posted those comments.”

“What?” said Lissa. “He’s admitting it?”

“No,” said Ellie, shaking her head a little too much. “I think he was denying that it was him who posted the comments. He didn’t do it.”

“You seem pretty sure about that,” said Lissa. “How can you be so certain?”

Ellie hesitated, the story on the tip of her tongue. But it felt wrong to share the experience. It had been a moment between the two of them. His words had been for her.

“Oh, God, do you fancy him?” Josh sneered, his face clouded with jealousy. “Stupid girl.”

Ellie ignored him. “I just have a hunch,” she said, simply. “He’s innocent.”

The shot ended with Blake pushing past a reporter and knocking the phone from her hands. He stormed off, and Ellie frowned. That wasn’t exactly a gentlemanly thing to do, and he hadn’t even apologised. Maybe the stories were true.

But no — she refused to believe it. There had been something real in his words, and the way he’d not hesitated to help her pick up her things. There was something genuine about Blake Fielding.

“ . . . Time will tell whether the actions of the founder will have long-lasting implications for one of the world’s best known social media companies. ”

The story flicked to something else and Lissa turned the volume down. Josh made his excuses, heading for the customer toilets. Lissa offered Ellie a sympathetic smile. “Like I said, you deserve better,” she said, softly. “Better job, better man, better life.”

Ellie nodded but didn’t reply. The knot in her stomach tightened as she stared at the counter. Instead of feeling hopeful, Ellie felt something close to hollow. ‘Better’ might exist out there somewhere, but right now, all she felt was the weight of being stuck.

Alone.