Chapter 6

• Clyde woke the next morning to Ella wrestling her way back into her boots while muttering a string of colorful threats at the hem of her jeans that keep getting stuck in the teeth of the zips.
• “Morning, someone seems chipper for how much they drank.” he greets with amusement as he passes where she's sat on an ottoman, going through the habit of setting the machine with a pod to sort his morning coffee. Once it's brewed, he turns to lean against the counter, watching her over the rim of the mug, the edges of his eyes crinkling with a smile.
• Ella sits up finally once her boots are zipped, greeting him with a slight breathy “Mornin'.” and a bright smile as she stands, “You may have the size advantage to process that much, but I have the genetics. Scots may get sunburn on a rainy day, but we don't get hangovers.” she comments proudly, only half-joking as she notes a shrill alert from her phone that her cab is there, making towards the door.
• Clyde catches her gently by the elbow, maneuvering till she's between him and the wall. “We still on for dinner?” he asked with that soft gravel to his voice that has her swallowing thickly as she nods “Excellent. I'll text you the details,” he responds with a small smile as he opens the door for her, relishing the way she doesn't seem to trust her voice to speak as she leaves.
• * * *
• By the time Ella gets home, she notices the bedding in the wash basket and the set she took off back on the bed. There's the telltale sound of running water and she's glad Clyde had an en suite because she'd hate to be feeling grotty and have to wait for God knows how long for James to be done.
• She's just about to leave the room when she spies a very specific box poking out from under the bed as if it wasn't put back properly, making a mental note to torment the hell out of James at least once today as she heads through to put on some coffee and wait sat on the counter of the island as she works her way through a large glass of cold water. The smell of brewed coffee lures him down the hall in a towel, startling slightly when he sees her perched on the counter wiggling her eyebrows at him. “Good night, Pandora?” she teases as he makes a coffee to take back to the room while he dresses. Despite the flush she can see creeping up his neck, he plays it cool “Mhm, we're getting drinks next week.” James responds, taking a long sip of his coffee before tilting his head slightly and asking off-hand, “Where did you end up staying?”
• Barely managing not to react, Ella waves off the comment “Unimportant, you two are going for drinks? Isn't the date supposed to come before the kinky sex?” the cheeky smile stretching across his face telling her exactly what he was about to say as he left to go get dressed. Prim and proper Frank? Yeah right.
• Her phone goes off as the bedroom door clicks shut, Ella is immediately grateful that James can't see the way she's biting her lip as she reads the message from someone whom he's not a massive fan of.
• “Thursday, 7 pm, Rossi’s. Meet you there.”
• She's jostled by the soft pad of footsteps, James rounding into her sightline as he finishes buttoning his shirt. “Out with it, where did you stay?” he smiles triumphantly when she blushes. “What poor man's soul did you suck out?” he nudges her knee as she leans next to where she's sat, earning himself a sharp swat to the shoulder.
• “None. I went to a club after you went home, met someone, crashed at his, no hanky-panky and we're out again on Thursday.” As much as Ella hated even just omitting information from him, she was hoping it would satisfy him and she could move on with the day. The look he gave her was framed by a subtle frown, obviously more suspicious because she was being unusually cagey when they were usually almost uncomfortably open with each other. “Who's the guy? It's not exactly reassuring if you can't tell me,” his voice was soft with a tone of concern.
• Ella said it so fast and so muttered he could barely tell she was speaking, carefully prompting her to try again with a reassuring hand on her knee as she took a deep breath. “Clyde Stewart...” to his shame, his first reaction was the working code of conduct that didn't exactly look kindly on staff fraternizing with guests. Though, it was quickly followed by personal concern given his affection for Ella and his wariness toward Stewart.
• Arranging his features to what he hopes is minimal judgment, he squeezes her knee “Keep it professional at work... and text me while you're out so I know you're not in a boot or a hospital bed somewhere, okay?” he speaks quietly, a gentle smile at the way she visibly relaxed and pulls him into a hug. “Promise,” she murmured, slightly muffled by his shoulder.
• * * *
• A couple of shifts pass without incident, just the monotony of manning the main bar through the night and one incident of an irate guest who ordered a ‘gin and tonic, but make sure it's grey goose' who then refused to listen and caused a scene when she explained that Grey Goose wasn't a gin. According to the guest, she was an idiot who didn't know what they were talking about.
• Not the worst she'd had, by far, but she was still snappy by the end of her shift and James ended up bribing her with fresh pastries from the deli around the corner to put her in a better mood when she woke up. Neither of them was happy when she got pulled in for the Wednesday day shift, but she muscled through under the understanding she'd get the next two days off - no hustling to come in for days and any night shifts they'd find a cover for.
• It was worth working the hectic day shift for that.
• * * *
• “James,” Ella had her eyes down, fixed on her phone as he glanced up from the sofa, doing a quick double take as he noted how she was dressed, the beep of his phone barely pulling his attention away as she looked up “I've shared my location with you, just so you know I'm not dead. Not going to lie, probably not going to be back tonight.”
• She almost sounds nervous, so he chooses not to make it worse with judgment or his own opinion of Clyde as he quirks a brow with a cheeky smile at the little black dress, flattering but pretty modest, her hair up in a nicer version of the twist she's so fond of. “You look nice, relax.” he soothes, earning himself a kiss pressed to the top of his head as she passes.
• * * *
• It would usually be a manageable walk, but she's not about to risk it in heels so springs for a cab. Thankfully, it's the right call, judging by the rain that sweeps in when they're about halfway there - the short dash to the door a lot less hellish than if she'd got caught walking in that weather.
• It doesn't take much to spot Clyde, watching the door with a spirit in hand. Ella tries not to smile as she makes her way over and she sees the slight frown flit across his expression for just a second before he's standing as if he didn't recognize her at first glance.
• “Ms. Bentley,” her smile breaks through at that as he presses a kiss to her cheek, pulling out her chair in a move that would usually have her rolling her eyes. But with him, it doesn't come across like a ploy to come across better, it comes across like habit or another subtle example of the power he oozes - it's almost endearing.
• “No need to be all formal now, Clyde.” There's a teasing edge to Ella’s voice, though her nerves are well hidden to the average person it comes with the territory of crime that he can pick them up a mile away, that less polished side of him admittedly enjoying it probably a bit too much.
• “You look gorgeous,” it's almost growled, Clyde catching her gaze because he knows it'll get her to blush, even if she manages to keep her other reactions in check.
• “Thank you... It's high praise coming from you, handsome as ever.” he can't help the way his smile grows at that, almost able to see it on her face as she cringes as if her words are 'too much. “Sorry, I'm a little rusty...” it's almost a grumble, the slightest hint of amusement laced through it like humor is her go-to defense as she distracts herself with the menu.
• “Surely, you're not out of practice at dating. Aside from the endearing personality...” he makes a discrete sweeping gesture at her that prompts a brief chuckle from her. “I'm surprised you could make the time for me.”
• That earns him a laugh, even if she keeps the volume down. “Truthfully, it's been years since I went on a date. It's a hazard of work.” He makes a noise in his throat that sounds like he knows all too well what she means, the stuffiness finally fading away again.
• * * *
• Thankfully, by the time they leave, the weather has cleared up somewhat - it’s no longer raining at least. As they step out into the street, Clyde has a firm arm around her waist, glancing questioningly at his Rolls Royce almost to ask if she's coming with him or waiting for a cab. When she makes no effort to disentangle herself, instead almost tucking herself more firmly against his side, he feels the slight rush of achievement. Things rarely don't go his way, but he's still proud this was something that stayed true to that statement.