Time-Lapse by J.B. Heller
Chapter Twenty-Four
Waitingfor Eliza to speak is killing me. “Say something, please.”
When I lift my eyes, she’s just standing there, blinking at me.
“El,” I try, but she puts her hand up, cutting me off.
“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore. To you, I am either Eliza or Miss Quinn.”
That hurts, but I’ll take it. “Okay,” I agree.
“Why?” she demands.
I frown. “Why, what?”
“Why am I the center of every show? You left me, remember? You walked away from me. So why am I the centerpiece? Is it some sick way of reminding yourself where you came from? Is that it?”
I’m taken aback. “What? No! Why would you even think that?”
She throws her arms in the air. “I don’t know, Hux. Or is it Hadley now? You show up after five years without so much as a phone call and tell me I’m the center of all your shows. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
“Fuck.” I run my hands through my hair again. “I don’t fucking know! I don’t know, El.” Realizing my slip, I correct myself before she has a hissy fit. “I mean, Eliza. I never expected to see you again. I didn’t think I’d ever have to explain it to you. So, I really don’t know what to tell you.”
I shake my head as my frustration builds. “You’re the center because … because you’ve always been my center. Without you, there is nothing else. Without you, none of it matters. It’s all I had left of you, those pictures. They remind me what I’m striving for, what I’ll always be striving for.” I’m panting by the time I finish my tirade, although it wasn’t supposed to be one. I was just trying to explain.
Her eyes are shining again, and it’s my fault. All I do is hurt her.
“Wh—” She clears her throat. “What are you striving for, Hux?” she asks as she runs her palms down the front of her pretty dress.
“To be better. To be worthy,” I tell her. My own emotions are becoming hard to contain, and I know I need to cut this short before I break down in front of her.
But before I can ask her to meet me tomorrow to talk about everything, the guy from earlier opens the glass door. “You okay, Liza?”
She looks at me, and the sadness in her eyes is crippling. Then, she straightens her shoulders and turns to the guy, a bright, fake smile on her face. “Yep, I was just talking to Mr. Hadley about the show. It was a little loud in there after the unveiling. We’ll be right in.”
I hate that smile, but he doesn’t seem to notice how fake it is. He just eyes her for another minute then finally nods and goes back inside the gallery.
I shake my head. “I don’t think I can go in there again.”
Eliza shifts her gaze back to me and narrows her eyes. “Oh, yes you will. If I have to get through tonight, then so do you. People are counting on you. Don’t disappoint them.” Then, she walks through the glass doors, leaving me alone.
I want to hit something, or better yet, someone—that guy by her side, preferably. My hands clench into fists, and I shake them loose. This isn’t the time or place for irrational, impromptu beatdowns.
“Come on, Hux, get your shit together,” I mutter to myself then inhale a deep, fortifying breath, push the glass doors open, and take a leaf out of Eliza’s book by plastering a fake smile on my face.
A waitress crosses my path, and I don’t hesitate to take not one but two glasses of champagne and down the first immediately. I give her back the empty crystal flute and take another. “Thanks,” I murmur before I knock back the second.
Her eyes widen. “Are you okay?” she whispers.
“Nope, not at all. Thanks for asking,” I say as I take yet another flute from her tray.
“You might want to slow down, buddy. The brunette over there looks like she’s coming to skin you alive.” Then, she scurries away just as I feel Bee’s approach.
“What are you doing?” she hisses in my ear.
“I think it’s quite obvious. I’m getting drunk,” I quip.
Bee clenches her jaw as her eyes flick around the room, no doubt noting who is paying attention to this little scene. I say nothing. I’m beyond pissed at her. How could she not have at least warned me before I walked in here?
“Did you not learn anything last night?” she seethes.
I glare at her. “I’d say the situation calls for it. I’ll deal with the consequences later. After all, I just saw the love of my life for the first time in five years, and she fucking hates me. So, thanks for that.” I down another glass of champagne as I watch several emotions cross Bee’s face.
She ends on deflated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would go like this.”
I raise a brow. “And how exactly did you think it would go? She’d forgive me for walking away from her? That she’d launch herself into my arms and proclaim her undying love for me? Seriously, Bee, I’m curious. What exactly did you think would happen?”
An older man in a tux approaches from the side, and I attempt to compose myself.
“Sorry for interrupting. I’d just like to introduce myself. I’m Victor Quinn. I wanted to compliment you on your unique perspective. It hints at an appreciation beyond your years.”
I’m honestly flattered. This man, El’s grandfather, is a respected name in the photography community. He features different artists and photographers in each of his hotels. His support has launched the careers of more than a few.
To have him recognize my work is … well, it’s pretty amazing. “Thank you, I’m honored.” I hold my hand out to shake his. “I’m Hux, or Hadley—whatever you’d prefer to call me, sir.”
He takes my hand in a firm shake. “Call me Victor,” he says. “It’s getting a bit late for this old man. What do you have planned for breakfast, Hux?”
His question takes me by surprise. “I, uh … no plans, sir—uh, sorry, Victor.” The champagne has already gone to my head, and I sound like a fool.
Victor grins at me. “Might want to slow down, son. I have a feeling you won’t want to be hungover for our breakfast tomorrow.”
“Our breakfast?” I ask dumbly.
His hand clasps my shoulder. “Yes, son. Meet me in the restaurant tomorrow morning at eight.” He smiles, making the skin around his eyes crinkle. “I’d consider switching to water unless you want to be nursing a hangover when I make you an offer I don’t think you’ll want to refuse,” he says with a wink, then he squeezes my shoulder twice and walks away.
I’m standing there slack-jawed when Bee erupts, “Oh, my God!”
I nod numbly. Victor Quinn wants to have breakfast with me and make me an offer I can’t refuse. Holy. Shit.
Here I am,trying not to have a panic attack, and Hux is over there, talking to my grandfather like nothing happened. Like I’m not even here. I want to know what they’re talking about, so I casually close the distance between us.
I’m eavesdropping, and I don’t even care. I only catch the end of their conversation, but it’s enough to knock the wind out of my lungs. Grandfather wants to meet with Hux and—oh, no.
Grandfather has been talking about rotating the current artwork we have displayed throughout the hotel for a while now, but he hasn’t found what he wants to replace them with yet.
As soon as Grandfather has walked away, and I’ve pulled myself together, I blurt, “You have to say no.”
Hux spins around and says, “What? Why?”
I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Shit. I fumble for words. “You can’t, I mean, no, that’s what I mean. You have to say no. When he asks you to stay on, to display in the hotel, you have to say no.”
Hux frowns. “And why would I do that? Being associated with Victor Quinn will do amazing things for my career. I’d be a fool to refuse him.”
I can’t think of a good answer right now, so I say, “Because, you can’t just show up out of the blue and expect everything to be fine and dandy.”
His eyes narrow on me. “I never said I expected anything. So maybe you should stop jumping to conclusions.”
I eye the champagne flute in his hand, and the remark slides right off my tongue. “Taking after Daddy, I see. Turning to alcohol instead of dealing with your problems like a big boy.” It was a cheap shot, and I want to take it back as soon as the words leave my mouth.
Hux has never looked at me the way he is right now. I can feel the pain my words inflicted in my bones. I reach for his arm to apologize, but he pulls away from me.
“No,” he says, and I feel that one word down to my toes. “You don’t get to judge me.” His nostrils flare with the effort it’s taking for him to keep his composure. “I’m going to go talk to whomever it is I have to, and you? You’re going to stay the hell away from me for the rest of the night.”
Then, he’s storming across to the other side of the room, picking up another champagne flute from a passing waitress as he goes.
Tears pool in my eyes. I can’t believe I said that. That’s not me. I don’t try to hurt people, but that’s exactly what I was aiming for when those words left my lips. I wanted him to hurt. I wanted him to feel a fraction of the pain I felt when I woke up five years ago and he was gone.
Ben steps up behind me. His big hands wrap around my shoulders. “Liza, wanna tell me what’s going on now?”
I sigh. I’m sure he’s figured it out by now, but I turn around to face him anyway. “Hadley is Hux.”
Ben’s expression darkens immediately. “As in, the punk who broke your heart? That Hux?”
I nod. “One and the same.”
He goes to step in the direction Hux just walked, and I push my palms into his chest, stopping him. “No, Ben, please don’t. It’s in the past, and that’s where I want to leave it.”
“If it’s in the past, why are you on the verge of crying? And why is he here? There are a hundred other galleries in the city he could have held his little exhibition at,” he spits, all the while keeping his eyes locked on Hux across the room.
“I’m fine, okay? Just a little thrown. He didn’t plan this. His assistant, or publicist, or whatever she is did it. Please, can we talk about it tomorrow? Just let it go for tonight,” I plead.
Eventually, Ben nods and backs down. I sigh in relief. “Thank you. Now, I’m going to call it a night. Can I trust you not to make a scene after I leave?”
“Would punching him in the face be classified as making a scene?” Ben asks.
I glare at him. “Yes, Ben. The grandson of the owner of Quinn Plaza attacking the talent at his own exhibition would equate to making a scene,” I deadpan.
“Fine, I’ll wait until he goes to the bathroom or something,” he mutters under his breath, and my hand flies out, delivering a lightning-fast nipple cripple. He slaps my hand away. “Okay, okay, I won’t do anything—not tonight, anyway.”
I nod. “Thank you. Now stop worrying about me, and go enjoy your date.” I push up on my toes and press a quick kiss to Ben’s cheek.
Looking around the room one last time, I catch a glimpse of Hux talking to an older woman who appears to be getting handsy. The clear discomfort on his face gives me a small burst of joy as I push through the glass door and head to my suite.
Yes, I live at the hotel, which is why Hux taking the position with Grandfather is so terrifying. I’ll have nowhere to go to escape him. He’ll be in my space, day in and day out, until he’s finished decking out the place. And then I’ll be faced with him everywhere I turn. He’ll be on the walls, constantly surrounding me.
I’d rather eat my own foot than live through that.
