55. Day One Hundred and Sixteen of Growing

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I'm seated in the lobby of the hotel, flipping through one of their coffee-table books when I hear his name.

"How did I miss Elliot Kingsley at the gala?" asks a voice, seated at the cluster of seats next to where I'm seated.

Slowly, without turning my head, I cut my eyes over to look at a group of four girls seated there, one of them looking almost indignant.

"How am I supposed to know?" asks her friend, "Because he was so clearly there in a dark brown suit that brings out his eyes."

"Apparently, he has a girlfriend now," says one of the girls, whose face I can't see because she's seated with her back to me.

"He does?!"

"Yeah," says the same voice as before, "Didn't you see her? She was at the gala, too. The brunette. She's Andrusian, apparently."

"Did they meet at the conference?"

"Apparently, she's his sister's friend."

I raise the left side of the book until it's covering my face so that they don't even notice that I'm trying my hardest not to burst out laughing.

How does word get around so fast? Thank God we've already told our parents because the grapevine isn't the way you want to hear about your child's relationship.

My parents have taken an immediate liking to Elliot, his charming, polite ways and his doctorship. They are never ones to show much emotion, but I did think that the whole meeting transpired well enough. Elliot's Mom, on the other hand, related her elation to me over the phone and kept telling me how excited she was for the both of us.

"Which brunette?" asks the girl who first spoke.

"She was wearing a satin, beige dress," says the other and I stifle a chortle because I have never been able to even recall what my sister wore to work in the morning before she comes home in the evening.

"Oh, with the gold heels?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

I bring the book closer to my face so that they don't actually see my face and begin to wonder just how popular Elliot is in Whitfield Hills for so many people to just know him.

I'm too lost in my own thoughts to hear the rest of the conversation happening next to me, but a name they say breaks through to me.

"Hey, Elliot."

There's a moment of silence.

Then, a bemused, "Hi, everyone."

I hear his footsteps and I know he's walking over to me and my cover just might be blown.

"I didn't know water-based architecture was something you were so interested in."

A kiss is pressed against the top of my head and I take it as my cue to lower the book that's been serving as my personal barricade.

Elliot descends on to the coffee table in front of with a smile, completely unaware that the conversation beside us has stopped completely.

I scrunch my nose and shake my head at him.

Elliot takes my hand and I squeeze his fingers three times, making him grin. He sighs and it's almost as if he's saying something. "Breakfast, my love?"

"God, I'm starving," I tell him, standing, "No one does breakfast buffets like Andrusian hotels."

Arm around my waist, Elliot laughs. "So many things seem to be better just because they've originated in Andrusia," he tells me as we turn to walk in the direction of the breakfast room.

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⏰ Last updated: Jun 17, 2022 ⏰

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