Diamonds Are Not Forever

CHAPTER FOURTY-TWO

CHAPTER FOURTY-TWO
Juliette

After the weekend at his parents house, I didn't see Elliot again until the night of my birthday meal with my family, nearly a week later.
Me, my mum and Milo arrived at Rossi's early, Michael Rossi himself showing us to our table.
Rossi's was our go to restaurant in town, small and friendly, and the only half way decent place to eat within walking distance of our house.
It was also my dad's favourite, so it felt like a tradition to eat there whenever we were celebrating a milestone, like he was right there with us. 
Once menu's had been placed out in front of each chair, Milo wasted no time picking his up and studying it meticulously – like he didn't order the same thing every time we came.
My mum kept herself busy, setting up the table with balloons and a large birthday banner, which embarrassed me to no end.
"You really don't have to do all this mum." I muttered, trying not to sound ungrateful.
"Nonsense, you only turn 21 once!" she sang, attaching gold balloons to the back of my chair with determination.
I rolled my eyes, but let her continue. She deserved to do whatever made her happy, even if that was making a fuss over me when I really didn't want or need it.
After the table had been decked within an inch of its life, she took the seat next to Milo across from me. She looked shattered from work, tired eyes and wayward hair, but a warm smile hadn't left her face all day.
"I can't believe my baby is all grown up," Reaching out, my mum took my hand in hers and gave it a determined squeeze. "and has a boyfriend."
"Don't sound too surprised," I scoffed. "I've had boyfriends before."
She let go of my hand and rested hers on her lap, giving me an 'you know what I mean' look.
She then proceeded to straighten the unruly curls at the back of Milo's head with her fingers, fussing like only our mother knew how to.
Milo protested but didn't bat her off, secretly liking the attention even though he was a moody 11 year old boy that wasn't supposed to want his mum's preening.
I couldn't believe they were leaving for America tomorrow.
A swell of love and despair flooded my heart, I was going to miss them so much.
"Remember, Elliot doesn't want a fuss made about giving the money for Milo's trip. Don't mention it tonight, please." I pleaded. 
I had lied more to my family in the last few weeks than I had in my whole life, but I'd convinced myself it was a necessary evil. I wasn't ready for Elliot to know why I'd accepted his deal.
Milo's illness felt like a weakness, and I didn't know him well enough to know if he would use that against me. He had a reputation of being ruthless in business.
You know him well enough to sleep with him, my subconscious scolded me.
I pushed off the feeling of uneasiness as my mum gave me a wide eyed look, "Okay! You've reminded me a million times, still seems strange that I can't thank him..."
I opened my mouth to make up some false tale of Elliot's kind nature and easy embarrassment, but was interrupted by a commotion by the door.
It was my Auntie Joan, juggling a gift bag, two large birthday balloons (in the shape of the number 2 & 1) and an excessively large birthday cake box - my teenage cousin Cassie in tow with only a phone in her hands.
It always took my breath away, how much Joan looked like my dad, her older brother.
Same chocolate brown hair with a hint of auburn in the right light, same deep set dark eyes, same crooked smile. She was our living and breathing piece of my dad, that's probably why her and my mum had grown even closer after he had died.
"It's raining cats and dogs out there!" Joan gushed when she got to the table, shaking out her damp hair and placing the cake down as she leaned into my mum's hug, the balloons awkwardly rattling above them.
When she saw me, a megawatt smile flashed on her face.
"There she is! My beautiful niece, the birthday girl."
She practically ran around the table and gave me a hug, handing the balloons to Cassie and kissing the top of my head dramatically.
"Hey Auntie Joan." I smiled into her embrace.
Cassie handed back the balloons to her mum sharpish and mumbled her greeting, taking the available seat to the left of me, not looking up from her phone once.
Cassie was your typical sixteen year old girl, and going through her Goth phase.
I tried to explain to my aunt and mum that it may not just be a phase, maybe that black clothes, clip on facial piercings and black box hair dye was her way of expressing herself, it actually quite suited her.
"Hey Cas, how's college going?" I asked, trying to find something we both had in common as a conversation starter.
We'd both gone to sixth form college, it was the best I had. 
"Good." She coughed, typing furiously into her phone.
Milo peered over his menu at us, whilst the mums fussed over unboxing the birthday cake my Auntie Joan had made for me, strategically placing gold candles into the still soft buttercream.
"Who're you texting Cassie, your boyfriend?" he teased, slurring the word boyfriend for emphasis.
Cassie kicked him under the table and stuck her tongue out in his direction, a small smile pinching the sides of her mouth.
"Ow!" Milo wailed overdramatically, rubbing his shin as I laughed under my breath.
"Children!" My mum and Auntie Joan cajoled in unison, before sharing their own knowing maternal smile.
"Speaking of boyfriends," Joan continued as she sat down. "When is yours joining us Lettie?"
I checked my watch, gnawing anxiety in my stomach at the pending arrival of Elliot.
"I told him the reservation was for 7.30pm, so he should be here any minute."
 A calm and steady voice called from behind me. "Already here."
The mouths of every woman around the table (and maybe even a few other occupied tables around us) went slack, their eyes widening as they took in the figure behind me. Even Cassie looked up from her phone long enough to gawk.
Elliot.
I slowly turned my head and drank in the sight.
Signature navy suit, clean white shirt, dark hair waving artfully back out of his face.
If you looked up the word handsome in a dictionary, Elliot Truman would be the definition.
He bent down and planted a chaste kiss on my lips. I knew it was for show, but it still ignited my body in a way that made the rest of the room fade into insignificance.
"Happy Birthday beautiful." He gushed into my ear, low enough to send tingles down my spine but loud enough that my family could still hear him say it.
Wow.
"Thanks." I blushed, taking the small gift box outstretched in his hand and placing it next to the giftbag my aunt had brought.
My mum still hadn't wiped the wonderstruck look from her face as Elliot straightened himself, leaning over the table to offer a greeting to her.
"Mrs St. James, I'm Elliot Truman."
She took his hand greedily, letting him sweep it to his lips and kiss the back of it.
"Please, call me Alice." She swooned, a very un-mum thing to do.
I'd have told her off for it too, if I hadn't already known what it felt like to be on the receiving end of Elliot's charm.
My mum eventually regained her composure, remembering herself as she cleared her throat and gestured to her sister-in-law. "This is Jewel's Auntie Joan."
Elliot turned to my aunt, an excessively bright look on his face as he eluded confidence and control.
He was really taking his role of fake boyfriend very seriously.
Proper first introduction etiquette eluded Joan, her mouth gaping open as she ran her gaze along the length of Elliot's perfectly molded body, breathed the words "Fucking hell."
I was mortified, hiding my face in my hands as Elliot repeated his greeting to her.
If he had heard her cursing, he didn't let on.
"A pleasure to meet you both."
When he eventually sat down next to me, I quickly introduced him to Cassie, who had resumed her default position of checking her phone and teasing Milo out of earshot of our parents.
When everyone was settled and we had ordered some drinks, Elliot picked up his menu and studied it closely.
Rossi's was far from the usual fine dining experience I was sure he was used to, but he didn't turn his nose up in disgust at what was on offer to eat, so I took that as a win.
It was a little daunting, bringing an Italian man to an Italian restaurant.
That being said, he had shocked me with the choice of the diner for breakfast before, so maybe I'd gotten the wrong idea about what Elliot liked. 
"I like this." He interrupted my thoughts, running his index finger over the sleeve of my cream sweater dress, his hand still holding onto the bottom of the menu. "It suits you."
"Thanks, It was a birthday gift from my mum and Milo." I blushed under his complement.
He hummed his approval, a deep throaty sound that made my blush deepen.
I didn't know how to act with him around my family, it had been so much easier at the Truman's where I was the girlfriend.
Should I hold back out of fear of coming across too false, or be more affectionate to sell the lie?
I maneuvered myself in the chair next to him three times before my aunt picked up my slack and started up a conversation, moving to the side to allow space for the waiter to dish out our drinks more easily.
"So, Elliot." She sang, taking a drink of her newly acquired wine. "How did you and Lettie meet? She's been very coy about you, I hardly know a thing."
I took a large gulp of my own drink, to ease the nerves that were fluttering around in my chest like rabid butterflies.
Elliot closed his menu with nimble fingers, lacing them together on top of the table cloth with grace. His stance made him look like he was in a job interview, it was mildly amusing.
"We met in a club, she bumped into me outside in the smoking area, one thing let to another...and here we are." He flashed me a toothy smile, his words perfectly rehearsed whilst still sounding sincere.
He's good at this.
"That's our Jewel, always bumping into things." My mum smiled fondly.
Oh god.
"I didn't bump, I fell." I corrected, catching Elliot's smirk in the corner of my eye.
I bit back my own smile, I'd bumped into him alright.
The waiter came back for our food order, which was an easy enough undertaking.
Milo asked for the ravioli, what he always ordered. Aunt Joan ordered a salad, still on one of her health kicks that usually came on the run up to Christmas but was abandoned by New Year. Me and my mum ordered the Chicken Piccata, Cassie a vegetarian pizza and Elliot ordered Fettuccine al Pomodoro – pronounced in a perfect Italian accent.
Auntie Joan hummed into her glass, clearly impressed, whilst I steered the conversation away from mine and Elliot's relationship and onto safer subjects – like Auntie Joan and Cassie's recent trip to the Canary Islands.
She was soon prattling on about Spanish men and snorkeling mishaps, mission accomplished.
Elliot nodded along, genuinely interested.
Around half way through a telling of how she had almost lost her bikini top whilst jumping in the Atlantic, our food was served in front of us.
I was quick to tuck in, my stomach grumbling as the aroma of lemon and butter filled my nostrils.
Elliot took a mouth full of his own pasta, an unreadable expression on his face as he pretended not to watch me eating.
I don't know exactly when he was added to my imaginary list of people I was comfortable eating in front of, maybe having sex with someone did that, but I no longer felt the churning feeling of dread about letting him see me eat.
Maybe because I'd confided in him with my secret self loathing, which he had respected so graciously.
'Juliette, I will never judge you.'
His words rang in my ears as I took another mouthful of buttery chicken goodness.
I was so enthralled in my dinner, I'd tuned out of the conversation around the table completely, only perking up when someone mentioned long haul flights.
"Are you both packed? New York weather can be unpredictable this time of year, I've read." Joan questioned, staring down at her rabbit dinner with disgust.
Oh fuck, oh shit.
My mum nodded, "Yes, Milo has practically used up all the luggage allowance with his game consoles though, haven't you dear."
Milo grinned enthusiastically, "I don't need woolly jumpers, I need Mario Kart."
Fuck, how do I get this topic thrown out?
"Nice early start for you in the morning, what time is your flight?"
"5am, taxi is picking us up at 2am." My mum grimaced, unaware that she was fraying all my nerves from across the table.
Elliot's ears pricked up, eager to get involved in the seemingly casual chit chat.
"My cousin recently returned from New York, have you got your itinerary sorted for your holiday?" He asked, swirling his fork in the centre of his spaghetti before bringing it to his lips.
I wanted to knock it out of his hand, grab him and drag him as far away from the restaurant as I could manage in the heeled boots I'd stupidly decided to wear.
Instead, I remained stock still, paralysed by fear as I let the conversation wash over me. Unsure what to do next.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
My mum gave Elliot a quizzically polite look, "No, we're going for Milo's treatment, of course. Not much time for sightseeing."
Oh no.
My heart thumped in my chest as I watched Elliot, his food suspended mid air as confusion creased on his brow.
He went silent, eerily silent.
When I dragged my eyes to the other side of the table, my mum flashed me a pleading look, and all the heat left my body.
'No.' I mouthed at her, but it was no use.
Setting down her glass of water, she tilted her chin to Elliot, her eyes glistening with emotion.
"Juliette said you didn't want a fuss, but I can't let it go unsaid how truly grateful we are for your contribution to Milo's trip."
"Argh."
The sound that came for me was incoherent, a voice of pure fear, my face burning and hands shaking as I floundered tragically.
Nobody paid me any notice; Elliot placed his untouched forkful of food back down on his plate and laced his fingers together in front of him.
Eyes narrowed and his face darkening, he refused to look at me.
I wasn't sure if I was grateful for his lack of eye contact or terrified by it.
My mum continued, unaware of the bomb she had just detonated between us.
"When Milo was diagnosed with cancer, well, we felt lost. But when Juliette told me you had offered to add to the fund to send him for the treatment programme in America..." Her eyes began to mist as she brought a napkin to her face and dabbed at her lashes.
A beat. Then, Elliot's whole demeanour changed.
Shoulders back, face scarily bright, he forced the most genuine smile I'd ever seen on his lips - it made me want to throw up.
"It's the least I could do," he swung his gaze to me, pale blue eyes flaming with disguised anger and frustration. "When Juliette told me all about Milo's condition, I was desperate to help."
I gulped loudly, withering under his words like a shrinking violet.
"It was a lovely thing you did, not knowing Juliette for very long and all. You're a very generous man."
My aunt's words of praise fell on deaf ears.
In that moment, it was just me and Elliot in the restaurant, locked in a nonverbal battle of hooded, blistering confusion on his face and bewilderment on mine.
Eventually, he spoke, his voice not hinting at the wildfire I knew was burning underneath the surface. "Please excuse my rudeness. Juliette, can I speak to you for a moment?"
He didn't wait for my answer, scraping his chair loudly against the restaurant floor and storming in the direction of the door.
I quickly struggled from my seat, flashing my mum a wide eyed look as I followed after him.

At the front of the restaurant, outside the door, was a small canopied alfresco dining area. The rain was lashing down, so it was only good for people who wanted to smoke or duck under for a few moments of relief from the weather.
Elliot was pacing when I closed the door behind me, the knot in my stomach tightening.
"Why didn't you tell me about Milo's condition?!" He snapped, running his hand through his hair as his scowl bore into my heated skin.
I tried not to make direct eye contact, pulling up a chair that hadn't been caught up in the torrential rain and sitting down in it, feeling lightheaded from the change in temperature and the turbulent conversation I knew was coming.
"It never came up." I answered, shrugging.
That had been the wrong thing to say.
Elliot's expression darkened as he practically threw himself in the chair opposites.
"It never came up!" He spat my words back at me, resting his elbows on his knees so he was hunched over. "You made me look like a fucking idiot in there Juliette!"
He was mad, really mad. The maddest I'd ever seen him.
"For that, I'm sorry." I whispered, feeling a little ashamed of myself.
Actually, a lot more than a little. I was mortified.
He was right, by keeping him in the dark I'd made him seem heartless. Asking my mum about sightseeing and touristy trips in New York, him calling it a holiday.
I blanched, "I should have told you. I just wasn't ready to share this part of my life yet."
A muscle in his jaw twitched, his teeth tightly clenched together as glowered at me.
Then, a sudden bout of realisation crossed his face.
"Is that why you signed the Agreement, why you asked for money up front?"
I nodded and his eyes closed, his face softening a fraction.
When his eyelids eventually fluttered open again, deep pools of icy blue flooded my senses.
People would scale mountains and swim oceans for those eyes, I was sure of it.
He rolled his neck to release some of the built up tension, his hands flexing by his side.
"Juliette, I thought..." He trailed off, looking lost.
I was lost myself, so I reverted to my safety blanket. Smoking.
Pulling my carton of cigarettes from the pocket of my dress, I instinctively offering one out to Elliot.
He held up his hand and grimaced at the sight.
He'd smoked at the gallery and he'd been mad then, despite only taking a few drags before throwing it away.
Maybe he wasn't the right kind of angry to drive him to nicotine, I wondered, sparking up the end of my cigarette and taking a long, much needed drag.
Ah, sweet relief.
"If you had told me why you needed the money, I would have given you more. Do you need more?"
"No, thank you." I took another drag and exhaled loudly, the smoke mingling with my breath in the cold. "I asked for enough up front to cover the expenses for their trip, the rest can wait until I've held up my end of the bargain."
Elliot didn't look as mad anymore, his chin tipped upwards as he leant back into the chair, his elbows rested on the metal arms as he ran his finger over the length of his throat.
I could tell I was losing him to his thoughts, the invisible cogs turning around in his brain.
"I'm just trying to look after my family Elliot, I never meant to keep things from you."
The look he gave me next cut through me like a knife, one I'd received so many times before.
The same look people sent my way when someone mentioned my dad or Milo's condition.
It was pity.
And I didn't want it, not from him.