Heartbeats in Moonlight

Chapter 51

An hour later, the phone rang, and Ella rose automatically to answer it. 

David took the opportunity to watch her. She had her hair up, this time in a twisted bun that sat at the nape of her neck. He remembered the time ten years ago when she had her hair in a pony tail, he remembered threading his fingers through that hair, tugging the tie off so that he could run his fingers through the cascade of jet black silk just before he'd been accused of harassment. He'd kept the hair tie, to remind him to stay clear of opportunistic wolves in sheep's clothing, or so he'd told himself for ten years. But it was now dawning on him that perhaps that hadn't been the reason why he'd kept that item that belonged to her.

"Is your father still managing?" He asked when she came off the phone. David wasn't sure why he asked that question right at that moment.

"Overseas." She replied, not sure why he'd suddenly asked that question. She was not keen to go down that particular track. "We'll stop there for now, I'll get on with that, change the directions for the decorators and I will source the new items." Her eyes issued a warning just in case he wanted to talk about her dad, or her family or her personal life. "I will arrange for someone to do everything we talked about." She moved around her desk.

David ignored the warning in her eyes and continued, almost conversationally, "Ok. But there are still a couple of things?"

Ella picked up some of her work and walked towards her shelves. "Like what?" Ella blinked. "I think I have taken on board your requests."

"Yeah, you have. The colour scheme, some of the items."

"Exactly, we reached an agreement." She nearly added- So now what? Instead she opted for a more diplomatic approach. "So, what is the problem?" What else? She placed her files on the shelves.

"The tone."

She turned around. Ella said, her voice suddenly harsh."What." What was the point of the last, nearly, one hour, talking about his place? Going over the scheme, double-checking exactly what he wanted, the colour, the items, even where he wanted his bed to be in his bedroom. Those aspects determine the place tone.

"I want my place to feel like your place!"

"What?" A shower of sparks flitted through her eyes. She remained where she was, beside the shelves, because if she moved, she would hit him!

"I want my place to feel, and look, like your place?" He said smugly, and folded his arms. Surely she would be pleased with this compliment. 

She nearly screamed at him. "What? Like this office?" She raised a brow. Was he just playing with her, wasting her time.

"No. Your home." One corner of his mouth tipped into a smile.

"You haven't seen my home." Her eyes glittered with anger. She started to move again. She took a moment and just said, "Obviously, you have seen the outside. If you want your house to look like the outside of my place..."

"No, Gabriella. Amelia showed me photos, of you and her. And your friends, Mallory and Evie. And some were in your home." He strolled into the middle of her office. She would have to step around him. "I liked what I saw."

She stopped dead in her tracks. Ella took time before her anger really took over. "Then why the hell didn't you say that at the start?" Ella pursed her lips, broke eye contact because he was standing in her way. And she really needed space and time. 

"I hadn't seen the photos." He said flatly. He actually wanted to smile, but that would not help. Not when he saw the sparks in her eyes.

"Ok. Fine." She huffed. "Then why didn't you say that earlier, today? We have just wasted an hour."