Diamonds Are Not Forever

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THRITY-SEVEN
Elliot

When dinner had been eaten and desert had been cleared away, everyone fell into a group retelling of the embarrassing stories of mine, Frankie and Millie's childhood.
I watched Juliette as she lapped up every word, laughing on queue when my aunt brought up my obsession to Disney Princesses when I was seven, and cringing when our mother told the tale of when Frankie fell from a tree and broke his arm in three places. She left out the part where Millie had pushed him from said tree, but I let it slide, too wrapped up in the natural back and forth to call my cousin out.
When the conversation dipped, my mother raised her champagne glass in a toast to the table. "Its so nice to have everyone in one place, I don't want this day to end." She crooned, her eyes misting as she took a sip of the expensive Dom Perignon.
Millie nodded in agreement, "This hasn't been terrible, I think our new additions have a part to play in that."
She shot a wink to Ashley and Juliette.
"Thank you so much for inviting me, Mr and Mrs Truman." Ashley grabbed her own glass of champagne, settling into Frankie's side as he rested his arm on the back of her chair. "I could stay here all night and talk about Frankie's misdemeanours."
Frankie had gotten off lightly, I would have been more than happy to tell Ashley Goulding about how he wet the bed until he was twelve, or when he got caught with a Playboy magazine in the downstairs bathroom...
Juliette chirped up next to me, "The rest of my weekend is going to pale in comparison, I'm having a great time. Thank you for welcoming me into your home."
Her words sounded genuine, the deep pools of her eyes reflecting the low light as her eyelashes fluttered softly on her cheeks.
As they spoke, I noticed a glint of an idea growing on my mother's face as she eyed my father from across the table, communicating without words. I watched the exchange with mild curiosity, my dad nodding his approval to whatever she had telepathically asked him.
I wondered how many years of marriage it took to get to that point, where you knew exactly what the other person was thinking without having to say a word.
"Why don't you all stay for the weekend." My mother finally voiced her thoughts, sounding hopeful as she opened up the offer to the table. "All of us together, a family weekend."
Frankie frowned and whispered something in Ashley's ear, but she batted him off quickly.
"I would love that." Ashley affirmed, jabbing my brothers side with her elbow not so subtly. He winced but kept quiet.
Millie clapped with excitement. "I have some clothes in the trunk of my car you can borrow Ashley, I don't travel anywhere without at least three back up outfits."
I turned to Juliette to gauge her reaction to the idea. She had only signed up for one dinner, I wasn't sure how she would take the prospect of a whole weekend with my family. It didn't sound too appealing to me either.
Her mouth twisted in thought, "I would love to, but I don't have any other clothes..." Her face dropped into a frown, her brows locking together as she looked down at her hands.
I could read that look well enough; she didn't have someone at the table who could lend her clothes in her size.
"I packed a small bag of your outfits from the boutique." I interjected, startling everyone. I'd not said much all night, something my family were accustomed to.
Frankie gave me a 'you're supposed to be on my side' look across the table, to which I shrugged in response.
Sorry brother.
I continued my betrayal, "I thought it would be best to come prepared, knowing my mother."
Juliette's eyes went wide as I smirked at Frankie. For whatever reason - he was clearly apposed to the idea of keeping Ashley here any longer than necessary, which meant I was all for it.
My mother watched us all with delight as she morphed into hostess mode before our very eyes.
"That settles it then, I'll get your rooms made up." She jumped from her seat, flames coming from her heels as she scurried off to find the housekeeper.
I felt a shift in the chair next to me, the smell of Juliette's sweet perfume filling my nostrils as she leaned over.
"You think of everything, Mr Truman." She whispered under her breath, the soft silk of her dress sleeve caressing the side of my arm as she reached to take a drink. It was the slightest touch, but it ignited my skin like an inferno.
I spotted Ashley watching our exchange closely from across the table, a small smile splayed on her lips as she looked between Juliette and myself. I knew Juliette's boss wasn't my biggest fan, she'd made that abundantly clear in the meeting room at Truman & Son's HQ. But she seemed less tense about the idea of me being with Juliette in the informal setting of the family dining room, surrounded by the chatter of what we should do with our rare family weekend together.
"How about some clay shooting tomorrow morning?" Frankie offered out to our father, clearly resigning himself to the fact he was staying here whether he liked it or not.
Our father took a sip of whiskey before he spoke, "The weather should be clear, I don't see why not. Oscar, how do you feel about loading for me tomorrow if me and the boys go clay pigeon shooting."
My uncle stirred from his post food coma, his deep voice clearing the space between them. "Sounds fun, I haven't been able to shoot straight since the accident anyway."
"You mean when you fell over drunk at my 50th birthday?" Aunt Amelia quipped.
He nodded, his face scrunching up at the memory. "That curb came out of nowhere."
"I'd like to shoot," Ashley interjected, her face determined as she framed her shoulders back. "I've never done it before, but it sounds fun."
Frankie looked at his date with pride and a hint of lust, I rolled my eyes at him internally.
Millie fake yawned, "Boring! Who wants to shoot dinner plates for fun?"
My mother returned to her seat, quickly catching the gist of the conversation. "Nobody is shooting my dinner plates; they were a wedding present from Nonna Sofia."
"I have impeccable taste." My grandmother boasted, picking up a napkin and dabbing the corner of her mouth.
A small giggle escaped from Juliette, the most infectious sound.
"Something funny?" I examined the freckles on the bridge of her nose, a constellation on her skin.
She rested her elbows on the table, bringing her clasped hands to her lips in thought. "I like your family, they're so normal."
"As opposed to what?"
She raised her eyebrow at me, "Megalomaniac, Disney Princess loving, jackasses."
I narrowed my eyes, loving how easy our our back and forth was. "You picked up on the Disney Princess stuff, huh?"
She nodded, "Which one was your favourite?"
"Ariel, I love a redhead." It wasn't necessarily true, I just said it to make her blush.
It worked, her cheeks turned a rosy pink as she sunk into her chair, looking in every direction except mine.

After I'd grabbed the overnight bag from my car, I showed Juliette to my childhood bedroom. She'd been apprehensive at first, knowing asking my mother for a separate room would raise suspicion, but her tiredness gave way to her uncertainty as she kicked off her shoes and sat down on the edge of the king-sized bed.
My mother had been quick to redecorate when I'd moved out a few years prior, my once boy-ish room as she had called it was now minimally decorated in light grey's and creamy beiges.
I threw the bag on the opposite side of the bed and started rummaging for the toiletries. I knew my mother well enough to figure we would get invited to stay over, I hadn't anticipated the whole weekend though, but we could make do with what I'd packed.
"We didn't get you any nightwear when we went shopping, but I packed a few of my oversized T-shirts you can borrow to sleep in."
Juliette yawned in response, pulling some of the pins free from her hair as it fell over her face one copper tendril at a time.
"Would you like me to go get the plate of food Chef made you?" I asked, getting out my washbag and a loose shirt for Juliette.
"No thanks," She pulled a hair tie from her clutch and piled her curls up into a high bun on the top of her head, exposing the flawless pale skin at the base of her neck. "Thank you for today, at dinner."
She shifted on the bed so she could look at me, her eyelids heavy and tired. I wanted to demand she ate something more than just the soup from earlier, but I knew I wouldn't get very far.
"Tired, huh?"
She nodded.
"I'm going to go get a shower and change, there's a shirt here for you and some wipes you can take your makeup off with." I passed her the baby wipes and t-shirt before turning to the ensuite bathroom, desperate to wash the day off of me.
After a quick shower and change into the matching pyjama bottoms to the shirt I'd given Juliette to sleep in, I walked back into the room and found her snuggled up under the quilt, her eyelids drooping as she fought off sleep. Juliette looked placid and content as her head burrowed into the over-stuffed pillow, the soft light from the bedroom lamp casting shadows across her bare face.
She'd looked great, done up with her makeup in the dress I'd bought her. But seeing her like that, without a stitch of makeup and a few fly away hairs framing her elegant face, it stirred something new within me.
She's here for the money. My subconscious screamed at me, but I chose to ignore it.
I dimmed the lights, not sure if Juliette preferred to sleep in complete darkness or not. "Do you want me to keep the light on?" I queried, picking up Juliette's discarded dress off of the floor and throwing it over the back of the armchair.
She mumbled into the quilt. "Mmm."
"Do you want to brush your teeth?"
"Mmm."
I grinned to myself. "Do you want me to stop talking?"
"Mmm." Her lips turned up in a faint smile as I climbed into bed next to her, resting my head on the pillow so we were face to face.
"You did great today."
She let out another lazy yawn, not opening her eyes as she responded. "Thank you, I had fun." 
The last time I'd slept next to Juliette was the night I brought her home from the bar after a series of drunken, unbelievably great sex. That felt like an eternity ago, before I'd signed the contract with Goulding Jewellers or Juliette had signed the Agreement to be my fake wife.
It had been so simple then, just another one-night stand to add to the list of my many encounters.
But I was a fool if I'd thought Juliette was going to be just another notch on my bedpost.
As her breathing shallowed, she moved the quilt from her face, exposing her neck and jaw to me. I was aching to touch her, just to have the familiar feel of her soft skin under my fingertips.
It was an irrational feeling, but I allowed myself to indulge. This didn't feel like reality anyway, far away from the city and our responsibilities and rules.
My fingers brushed her temple, her skin warming under my touch.
She stirred but didn't move away, instead her mouth parted slightly to allow for her deeper intakes of breath, sleep consuming her.
"Goodnight, Juliette." I whispered, my fingers trailing down the length of her neck and resting on her shoulder.
I stayed like that, for what felt like hours, watching her sleep as my own oblivion loomed.