Diamonds Are Not Forever

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Juliette

When I got home from the bar, a little tipsy from the cocktails, I found my mum and Milo curled up on the sofa watching TV.
Milo was half asleep, his head lulled on the lap of my mum, obviously feeling a lot better than when I had last seen him.
"Hey Lettie." My mum smiled at me, speaking in hushed tones as she gently stroked my brother's head.
"Hey mamma."
She looked exhausted, her hair scraped up in a messy bun and dark purple smudges under her tired eyes and she tilted her head back on the cushion of our sofa.
Seeing her so tired always tugged on my heart, an overwhelming fear of guilt filling every empty part of my body. She worked so hard every day to make sure we had a good life, even when life wasn't particularly good to us.
I always thought I could be doing more, to support her, to make sure our family was provided for. With the money that was currently sat in my bank account, I finally felt like I could do right by the woman that had so selfishly dedicated her life to our family.
"Can I talk to you about something?" I asked, quietly placing my bag on the coffee table and gesturing towards the kitchen with my head.
My mum's eyes widened a fraction, a flash of concern behind her eyes. "Of course, sweetheart." She carefully lifted Milo's head and placed it gently down behind her as she got up from her seat, the soft snores of my brother almost drowning out the sound of the crappy late night show blaring through the television.
When we were in the seclusion of our small kitchen, I took a deep breath to steady myself before unravelling before my mother's very eyes.
"I have the money for Milo's trip."
There, I'd said it out loud, no going back.
Her mouth popped open in shock. "What?"
"The money you need to take Milo to America for the trial treatments, I have it." My voice was a shaky mess as tears threatened behind my eyes.
I watched as the realisation registered on my mum's face, her hand trembling as she reached for the countertop for support. "Juliette, how did you-what did you-how?"
"I've been working a shit tonne of overtime, and my savings...I have 25 thousand pounds ready to go."
"No Lettie." She brought her fingertips up to the apple of my flushed cheeks, pushing away one of the tears that had spilled over. "No, I won't accept it. That's your money. How have you saved 25 thousand pounds?"
I couldn't tell her the full truth, not only because of the NDA, but also because she would be so disappointed in me for lying for capital gain at the expense of Milo. I decided to tell her a half truth, like I had to Ashley and Carol in the bar.
"I have a boyfriend, a rich boyfriend, and he's made up the extra to help get Milo better."
"A boyfriend? Why have I not heard about this boyfriend?" My mum rasped, her face going blank.
Because he's a fake boyfriend, soon to be fake husband.
I brought my hand over my mothers that was still resting on my face, and pulled it down so our fingers intertwined between us. "Its very new. But he gave me the rest of the money, and I'm giving it to you."
Maybe it was the alcohol, or the glossy look in my mum's eyes, but it was my undoing. I burst into tears in front of her, months of frustration and sadness spilling from my eyes as my body shook from my sobs.
I was in her arms in seconds, the familiar scent of lilies and coffee enveloping my senses as my mother soothed me.
"Juliette, my beautiful, brilliant girl." She rubbed circles on my back as her own tears started to fall, drenching the sleeve of my black polo shirt. "I will never be able to repay you for this."
When our tears had subsided slightly, she pulled me from her and held me at arm's length, her face flushed from her crying. "I love you so much darling, your father would be so proud of you."
"I love you too mamma." I sobbed, a new spike of grief washing over me at the mention of my father.
"So," she wiped my face with her thumbs, a sad smile playing on her lips. "Boyfriend, eh? You kept that quiet."
I couldn't help but laugh, my melancholy retreating the second I heard my mum's chirpier tone. "Like I said, it's very new."
"When do I get to meet this new boyfriend?" Gone was the earlier woman who had cried in my arms, before me stood the usual strong and protective mother I knew so well.
"Whenever you like, I could invite him to my birthday meal with Auntie Joan and Cassie next week?"
"That would be great sweetheart, I need to meet the man that has captured my daughter's heart."
The guilt overwhelmed me from her words. I hated lying to her, but if it meant Milo would get better and my family would be provided for, I'd lie a million times over.
Just as she opened her mouth to say something else, the sound of our doorbell being rung echoed around the house.
"Wonder who that is?" She voiced my own thoughts as we wondered back into the living room, Milo's eye's fluttering open from the sound of someone at our door.
"You see to Milo, I'll go get it."
Running my hands under my eyes to remove the tearstains in an attempt to look more presentable, I steadied my breath and opened the front door, expecting one of our neighbours or a really late delivery man on the other side.
Instead, gorgeously disheveled in his shirt and trousers, stood an angry looking Elliot Truman.
His hand was rested against the frame of the door, his height almost filling the whole doorway as he slowly dragged his icy blue eyes up to meet my face. His hair fell in messy waves over his forehead and stopped at the arch of his brows, like he'd been running his hands through it until it would no longer stay in the neat style he usually wore it in.
"Elliot. What are you doing here?" My voice cracked, all the moisture leaving my mouth at the sight of him on my doorstep.
His eyes explored mine, his face twisted in an uncomfortable emotion. "I told you Juliette, I don't like to be ignored."
I crossed my arms over my body and huffed with frustration. "So, you came all the way to my house, because I didn't reply to your text?"
Elliot assessed my words, mulling over what I had said as a spike of anger flared in his eyes. When he finally collected himself, removing his hand from the wall and running it through the length of his hair, he noticed the blotches on my face from where I had been crying and instantly stilled. "What happened at the bar? Did someone hurt you?"
"What? No."
"Juliette, who is it?" My mum called from the living room; her voice muffled.
"Nobody mum." I called back, my eyes not leaving Elliot for a second.
Elliot exhaled, his shoulders bunching under his shirt as he dropped his arm slightly. "I came to make sure you were okay."
"Well, I am okay."
The silence stretched between us. He didn't move, and neither did I. We just stood there and took each other in.
"When you didn't reply," Elliot grimaced. "I thought you might be too drunk to get home, so I wanted to make sure you were here and safe."
I'd obviously hit a nerve by not replying to him, I made a mental note in case I ever did it again.
I eventually let my face soften at his words; in his own overbearing way, he was trying to look out for me. It was kind of sweet. "I'm sorry I didn't reply to you."
"You're a very unpredictable woman...it sets me on edge." Elliot's jaw set in a stiff line; his rare glimpse of an emotion other than indifference startling me.
He was usually so confident and commanding, the fact he'd admitted I could make him feel anything less than in control was a revelation.
Trying to lighten the mood, I decided to test his unusual bout of forthcoming honesty. "I'm surprised you don't have a GPS tracker on me, or secret spies following me around to know that I got home safe. Or is my personal file the only way you can get information out of me."
Elliot's eyes darkened. "I don't need a personal file to get information out of you Miss St. James, I have my ways." His voice was a low rumble.
"Mr Truman, are you flirting with me or trying to start a fight?" I smirked, resting both my hands on either side of the doorframe.
"Maybe a bit of both." His face lit up with a wicked grin.
God, he was sexy when he smiled.
It annoyed me how sexy he was. Everything south of my body clenched as he ran his tongue the length of his lips, his breath heavy in his throat.
I had the urge to reach out and touch his bottom lip, run my fingertips along the swell where it curved over his chin, but resisted long enough to feel something nudging under one of my arms – a flash of copper hair appearing in the crook of my armpit.
"Hello, who are you?" Milo beamed; his sleepy eyes wide at the sight of Elliot at our door.
Elliot pulled his gaze from me and gave my brother a small smile. "I'm Elliot, who are you?"
Milo pushed some of his curls out of his face and nudged his head into the side of my ribs, causing me to flinch and laugh at the same time. "I'm Milo. Juliette's brother, or the better sibling as everyone calls me."
"Pleasure to meet you Milo, I'm the better sibling out of me and my brother too."
The two shared a knowing look, leaving me to be the bystander in their exchange.
"What do you want Milo?" I eventually asked, peering down at him.
"Mum said you either need to come in or shut the door, you're letting in a draft."
"Okay." I shooed him from under my arm and back towards the living room. "Tell her I'll be in in a minute."
"Is your friend coming in too?" The way he said 'friend' was suggestive, a flash of mischief on his face as he eyed the 6ft Adonis lent against the doorframe.
I looked up at Elliot expectantly, waiting to see what he would say about coming inside my house.
He seemed to internally argue with himself, deciding on if he was coming or going.
"I was just leaving actually," he eventually spoke. "Great to meet you Milo."
"You too." Then my brother disappeared, leaving just me and Elliot alone once again.
The silence crackled between us, all previous anger and joking long gone, leaving us both staring at one another as a chill blew through the air - every hair on my body standing on end.
"I'll pick you up at 9.30am tomorrow. Goodnight, Juliette." Elliot quickly turned on his heels and strode down the path, not looking back at me once as he climbed into the driver seat of his flashy and expensive car.
"Goodnight, Elliot." I called out into the darkness after him, the feeling of wishing he had decided to stay blooming in my stomach.