Diamonds Are Not Forever

CHAPTER THRITY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Juliette

"You look sensational, by the way." Millie hummed with approval as she pointed her chin at my dress, her hands occupied as she pulled the cork from a bottle of red wine.
I did a little spin for her, the bottom of my dress catching the air and floating around me. "It's a beautiful dress."
"I see Elliot took my advice and took you to the boutique on Main Street, smart guy."
I nodded in agreement as I wondered around the Truman's enormous kitchen, zoning in on a Cheshire white sideboard dresser dotted with a few framed family photos. There was one of a young Frankie, smiling triumphantly at the camera as he held up a large fish he'd caught on the end of his fishing line. A few of Elliot, ones with various other people, like his father, and one with an older couple I presumed to be his grandparents. Then, in a large gold frame, was a photo of the whole Truman family, each member as well dressed and as immaculate looking as the next.
I picked it up and traced my finger over the glass that sat in front of Elliot's face, his signature scowl glaring back at me.
"Your gene pool is crazy." I said out loud.
"We're a good-looking bunch, aren't we."
Mille appeared over my shoulder, two glasses of red wine in hand as she marveled the photo. "A family of heartbreakers, all tall dark and handsome. Except for Frankie, he's a defect from our Italian features, the Golden Boy."
I moved my gaze to the small boy stood beside Elliot, a few inches shorter than him, a halo of golden hair framing his face as he grinned brightly at the camera.
I set the frame back down where I had found it and turned to Millie, accepting the glass outstretched in her hand.
"Elliot was telling me about his Italian lineage, that your uncle changed the family name to Truman."
Millie nodded and took a tentative sip of her drink before speaking. "Yeah, our dad's decided to change it when they went into business, although I sometimes wish they had kept Trabucco. I would sound so much more mysterious with a surname like that."
We both laughed and wondered back towards the door, stopping when we got to the door frame so we could sneak a peek at the throng of Trumans milling around in the living room. Mrs Truman was chatting animatedly with Millie's father on the sofa, the warm light from the fire reflecting off of her fine jewellery. Elliot and Mr Truman were still stood in the corner, their expressions hooded as they exchanged formalities.
Long gone was Elliot's previous relaxed and breezy demeanor from the car journey over, even from across the room I could see how tense his shoulders were as he lent them against the wall, his large hand gripping a glass of whiskey which he swirled absent-mindedly.
"Elliot has always had a weird relationship with his dad," Millie watched the exchange over the rim of her wine glass, resting her elbow on the door frame as she spoke. "I don't think he's ever fully forgiven Uncle Charles for the way he treated Aunt Lillian in the early years."
What?
"The early years?" I questioned, gripping my glass tightly around the stem as I tried to remain passive with my question.
Millie didn't faulter, not realising she was shedding secrets Elliot had clearly kept close to his chest. "Yeah, Elliot's parents separated for about a year when he was around four or five. Uncle Charles was starting up the shipping company, working ungodly hours and shaking his responsibilities as a husband and a father. Aunt Lillian made him choose between her and the business. He chose the business..."
Wow.
My head reeled as I took in every word Millie said, a sadness setting in as I watched Elliot from across the room.
With my own dad, family had always come first, I couldn't imagine ever feeling abandoned by him. We had always felt so loved.
I pictured a small dark-haired boy, left alone in the world, knowing his own father cared more about his work than about him. It made me want to cry.
Millie continued, "They don't talk about it much, Uncle Charles got Aunt Lillian back and they had Frankie shortly after. I think they worked on their relationship a lot, they're in a better place now, but Elliot was never the same."
As if he heard the mention of his name, Elliot glanced over in our direction and gave me a confused look when he caught the pitiful expression on my face.
I forced a smile, but my mind was swimming with revelations.
It explained a lot, his closed off and cool demeanor, his ruthless business savvy. He was a product of being raised to believe business came first, everything else was secondary.
Clifford, who had been snoozing on a spot of carpet in front of the fireplace, suddenly jumped up with excitement, a flurry of commotion as the door went and Mrs Truman got to her feet to go answer it.
"More Trumans." Millie stated. "I suppose we can't hide in here forever, let's go see who it is."
I followed Millie's lead back into the living room, my heart still beating in my chest heavily as I tried to avoid Elliot's eyeline.
Mrs Truman returned with a sweet looking elderly lady, closely behind her was a smartly dressed Frankie. On his arm was a woman who looked like Ashley, only different, with sleek platinum hair cut into a neat bob just above her exposed shoulders.
When I looked closer, I realised it was Ashley, her face breaking into a massive grin when she saw me.
After she had done the introductions, she practically ran to my side, her elegant black Bardot dress flowing around her as she caught me in a hug.
"Jewel, you look amazing." She held me at arm's length, inspecting every inch of me.
I was so glad to see her, I couldn't keep the relief from my voice. "So do you, your hair looks fantastic, it really suits you."
"Thanks," Ashley swished the bottom of her hair with the back of her hand dramatically. "I figured if you were going to get a makeover then so was I."
Ashley dropped her hands and turned to Millie, extending a hand out to introduce herself. "Hey, I'm Ashley Goulding, Jewel's boss."
"I'm Millie, Elliot and Frankie's cousin, the best of the Trumans."
They shared a laugh and Millie quickly offered to take her to get a drink, leaving me alone in the living room with the rest of the Truman clan.
I took a few gulps of my wine to occupy myself, it was rich and chocolatey, exactly what the doctor ordered.
I tried really hard not to look at Elliot as I milled around the room, but my eyes were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He was bending to kiss the cheek of elderly lady who had come with Frankie and Ashley. They shared a few quiet words, until Elliot said something that caused them both to look over at me.
I didn't know what to do with myself, so I just gave them an awkward wave.
The old woman muttered something to Elliot, a determined look on her face as she set off in my direction, Elliot quick on her heels.
Shit, they're coming over.
"Juliette," Elliot extended his arm to me, calling me into his embrace. I instinctively slipped to his side as he rested his hand on my shoulder, cradling me to him. "This is my Nonna Sofia, she was dying to meet you."
"Its a pleasure to meet you, Elliot has told me all about you." I gushed, a complete lie that felt like the right thing to say.
Nonna Sofia saw right through me, raising her thin brow as her lips turned up at the corners. "I doubt that my dear, my grandson has quite forgotten I exist these last few months." Her accent was soft like honey, more subtle than Marco's from Hugo & Talls.
"That's not true Nonna, I've just been busy." Elliot scoffed, tightening his grip on me.
"Too busy working to see his grandmother, you Trabucco men are all the same."
Millie's earlier admission burned in my ears, it felt wrong that I knew so much about Elliot's family troubles, considering it hadn't come from Elliot himself.
I cleared my throat quietly, "I feel I have something to do with his recent absence, we've been quite inseparable since we met."
Another lie, but if I was going to play the part of the doting girlfriend, I was going to play it well.
She hummed as she brought her hand to my cheek, speaking directly to Elliot as she peered straight into my soul. "She is a beauty, Elliot. You have picked well."
I blushed under her praise, unsure of what to do with myself.
Elliot gave me a simpering look down the bridge of his nose, his blue eyes heating up. "I think so too."
We were good at this, too good, we deserved an Oscar.
"We will talk more later, Juliette. But now, if my grandson can tear himself from his lovely date, I would much appreciate being taken to a seat near my boys so I can scold them for not visiting their mother enough." Nonna Sofia flashed me a smile, her deep-set eyes twinkling as she reached out for Elliot.
He quickly released me from his grip and took her arm, steering her round as she leaned on his muscular arm for support.
As they moved away, Elliot shot me a small smile over his shoulder, mouthing the words 'thank you' as he guided his grandmother over to where Frankie, his father and his uncle were sat.
After they had gone, Ashley reappeared at my side, a tall glass of something fizzy over ice in her hand. "She's great isn't she, we really hit it off on the car journey over here."
I nodded and took a sip of wine, "I can't believe we're both here."
Ashley squealed girlishly. "Dating brothers, I feel like we're in a Hallmark movie!"
Donning my best movie narrator voice, I cocked my brow at Ashley. "Two girls thought they knew it all, until two handsome Italian brothers come into their lives and turn it upside down."
She picked up where I left off, dramatically draping herself over the edge of a nearby armchair. "Will they fall in love, or will it end in tears? Tune in to find out."
I giggled as I batted the top of Ashley's arm. "So, falling in love with Frankie Truman is a possibility for you?"
"As much of a possibility as you falling in love with Elliot Truman is." She quipped back, a small blush flushing her high cheekbones.
Queasiness bubbled in my stomach, if only she knew the truth.
I cursed the NDA as we both found a space on one of the plush sofas next to Millie. Lying to Elliot's family was one thing, but to my best friend was another entirely.

Mrs Truman called us all to the dining room for dinner soon after, a long marble pedestal table filled with silver tableware and small place cards that had our initials scrawled on them in calligraphy in front of each chair.
I took my place next to Elliot in one of the high-backed chairs, upholstered in champagne coloured velvet. Ashley and Frankie were sat directly across from us, Mr Truman at the head of the table and Mrs Truman all the way at the other end.
Elliot was chatting with his uncle to the right of him, discussing rising freight fees and other boring stuff that I easily drowned out.
Millie's mother, Amelia Truman as she had introduced herself as, had emerged from her nap and was marveling at the gilded napkin holders with Millie and Mrs Truman on the far end of the table, too far away from me to join in the conversation – not that I knew anything about table décor.
That left me with Mr Truman, who had drawn Ashley into conversation about the store and the recent company merger, something I knew enough about to get involved with.
"Your recent sustainability venture at Goulding Jewellers is quite fascinating Ashley, I was intrigued when Elliot put your business plan on my desk." Mr Truman was captivating when he spoke, level in tone and direct in speech. You could tell he wasn't afraid of conversation, no matter the subject.
Ashley was all too happy to talk about the store, her passion through and through. "Yes, its something we are working really hard on, the world of fast fashion and mass-produced jewellery isn't very sustainable. Jewel has been heading up our initiative to encourage more people to bring in their old jewellery and get it recreated into something new." She smiled at me proudly as she took a sip of her champagne.
Mr Truman swept his gaze across the table to me, his face just as passive as it had been since we met.
"That must be quite difficult, making the old into something new." He uttered, waiting expectantly for me to counter with my own remark.
"On the contrary," I wiped my sweaty palms down the length of my thighs, feeling eyes on me as I spoke. "I think its easier than creating from scratch."
His eyes widened a fraction, "How so?"
"The old already has so much character, all I have to do is draw it out and give it a new lease of life. Everything deserves a second chance to shine."
Mr Truman nodded, mollified by my answer.
I felt my cheeks heat at the unintentional hidden meaning behind my words. Elliot's mum had given him a second chance, he didn't let on if he had taken it that way.
When servers entered, the room erupted into a flurry of movement. A plate of soup was swiftly placed in front of me, served in a delicate China bowl that matched the charger plate underneath.
I eyed it cautiously, the familiar dread of eating in front of strangers burning in my hands and face.
Elliot leaned into my side, his hot breath fanning my cheek as he whispered in my ear. "Eat the soup, don't worry about the main course, I've asked Chef to plate you something up separately that you can eat in private later."
A wave of relief and gratitude washed over me as I peered up at Elliot, his face still inches from mine as I took in his beautifully dark features.
"Thank you." I breathed, resisting the urge to reach out and brush a stray strand of his hair off of his forehead.
He settled back in his chair, picking up his spoon and dipping it into the bowl so he could ladle some of the soup. I watched every movement as he brought the silver cutlery to his lips and gently blew, a mundane action that somehow looked seductive when he did it.
Before he opened his mouth, he eyed me sideways, willing me to follow his lead.
You can do this, St. James, I felt him silently say, his eyes sparkling from the candelabra set at the centre of the table.
With a trembling hand, I picked up my own spoon and swirled it in the creamy soup, bringing it to my lips as I hesitated for a split second. It smelt like tomato and basil. It looked delicious.
And it was delicious, it tasted like victory.