Always Eli by Charlie Novak

Chapter Twenty-Two

Eli

Never in mywildest dreams had I expected to get into It’s a Drag!.

Not that I wanted to be down on myself, but I’d been trying to be realistic. The video Orlando had made for me had been spectacular, but it was almost impossible to tell what the selection committee had in mind. I’d given myself a stern talking to in my moments of doubt, telling myself I was just as fabulous and amazing as everyone else, but the worries had still lingered.

But now I had proof. I had an email inviting me to the final, which was enough to banish all my doubts, fears, and misgivings—at least for now. Okay, so, performing at It’s a Drag! wasn’t likely to launch an international career or even a national one. It might get me a few more gigs though, and it was a sign I wasn’t just a one-trick bitch who needed to stay in her lane and her very small pond.

It did mean I needed a new routine though. A truly spectacular one.

I’d replied to the organisers with my acceptance while Jules, Finn, Lewis, and Tristan had all been celebrating, and they’d promised to send me all the necessary details in the next few days. I had a vague idea of what I’d need though because Orlando had spent last night recapping the details from the previous year… once he’d finished squealing and jumping up and down like a rabbit on ecstasy.

“You okay in here?” Tristan asked from somewhere behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You’ve been staring at that coffee machine for ten minutes.”

“Have I?” I blinked rapidly, focusing on the machine in front of me. I’d apparently pressed the button for coffee at some point because my mug was three-quarters full. “Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.”

“Thinking about yesterday?” Tristan stepped into the kitchen and examined the kettle, checking to see whether it needed filling before he flicked it on.

“Yes. Sort of.” I picked up my coffee, inhaling the rich scent. God, I needed a machine like this at home. They cost an arm and a leg though, and I currently had neither to spare. “Just thinking about what I need to do now since I’ll need a new routine and probably a new look.”

Thank God I’d just been paid. Everyone was going to be getting very small Christmas presents from me this year.

“Just remember they picked you for you,” Tristan said, giving me a stern look. “Don’t go and change what they loved because you think you need to be different. They wanted Bitch Fit, so give them Bitch Fit.”

“Thank you.” I smiled at him, that fuzzy warm feeling I got when I was around Tristan intensifying to a new level. It was like my chest was full of tribbles. “I’ll do my best.”

“And if you need anything, just let me know.” He began making his cup of tea. “I might not be any good with hair… or make-up, but I can sort of sew, and I’m pretty good with painting.” He smiled. “And if all else fails, I make excellent cups of tea and can provide dog snuggles.”

“My babies,” I said. “I miss them. I need to come and see them again.”

Tristan chuckled. “Your babies?”

“We’re dating now. Everything that’s yours is now mine.”

“Figures. I think they view me as a glorified butler.”

“Aww. You’d look very cute in a butler’s uniform,” I said. “We’d be like Jeeves and Wooster—only I’m much smarter than Bertie.”

“That you are.” Tristan shook his head, smiling at me fondly. “If you want you can come round tomorrow or tonight. Or any day this week. Bring a bag and stay.”

“I’d love that.” We still hadn’t done a lot of the staying over thing, but now that we’d started I didn’t think we’d stop. I now knew what it was like to wake up next to Tristan, and it was something I wanted to experience every single day. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” He leant towards me slightly, tilting his head as if he were going to kiss me. There was a cough behind us, and we sprang apart. Pamela stood in the doorway with a raised eyebrow.

“Busy day today, Mr. Rose?” she asked.

“Er… yes?” Tristan picked up his mug and headed for the door, sliding past her with a sheepish smile.

“Good answer.” She looked at me over her glasses. “You two are going to get caught. I thought you wanted to be subtle.”

“We’re trying.”

“Honey, if that’s subtle, then I am the Duchess of Cambridge.”

“You’d make a good duchess.”

Pamela laughed. “You’re trouble.”

“Yes, but I am also irresistibly charming.” I winked at her, taking another sip of my coffee. From somewhere out in reception, I heard the clattering of feet on the stairs.

“Eli?” Alistair’s angry bark made me sigh heavily.

“Duty calls,” I said, schooling my face into the most neutral expression I could muster. One day, I was going to tell that man exactly what I thought of him, but it was not that day. I needed at least another paycheck to afford It’s a Drag!. The problem was I’d never met anyone so incompetent, and it was getting very hard to keep the snark at bay.

I strolled out to find Alistair, whose face was an interesting shade of puce, with my coffee in hand. “Yes? Can I help you?”

“Why haven’t you answered my email? I need the list of viewings for the rectory in Cherry Willingham.”

“I sent you the list this morning along with everyone’s details.”

“I haven’t seen it.”

“Well, maybe if you use your eyes that will help.” I smiled. “I realise that Outlook is a little advanced for a man of your skill set, but I’m sure if you revisit the top of your inbox, you’ll find it.”

“How dare you,” Alistair growled. “I’ve never been so insulted.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Another middle-aged, white man with an overinflated sense of entitlement?” I knew I was starting to push my luck, but I was having far too much fun. It was just like dealing with Richard, which made it very easy to know which buttons to push.

“I… I…” he spluttered. “No wonder you’re no more than a glorified secretary. Useless—”

“I think that’s quite enough from you,” Pamela said from behind me. Her voice was ice cold. I smiled. I didn’t need rescuing, but Pamela had a level of clout I didn’t. Besides, it was amusing to watch Alistair’s face change colour rapidly. I didn’t think he’d expected Pamela to hear him. “Eli has sent you all the details you need as he does every morning. And I will not have you slandering my colleague or my profession just because you haven’t worked out how to read your emails.”

“I… All I meant was…”

“Yes?” I asked sweetly. “I believe you were going to say something after the word useless. Would you like to continue? Because if I were a betting man, which I’m not normally but I’ll make an exception on this occasion, I’d say you were about to add some sort of slur regarding my gender or sexuality. Probably the latter. After all, can’t have useless gay boys like me running around in public.”

“I… I…” Alistair had gone very pale. I wanted to laugh. I’d taken a pot shot and hit the nail on the head. Sadly, I wasn’t surprised.

“But I’m not sure if you realise that both my gender and sexuality are protected characteristics under the equality act, so please do open your mouth and allow me to provide you with some legal education,” I said. “Just in case you weren’t aware, I have a first-class law degree from the University of Leeds. So I may be a glorified secretary, but I’m a glorified secretary with a law degree and enough of an attitude to take you to school. You won’t win if you argue with me, by the way. I’m just putting that out there. All my lecturers thought I’d make an excellent barrister.”

“Well… I didn’t mean it like that,” Alistair said, suddenly looking like he wished he could take back the last five minutes.

“I’m sure you didn’t.” My voice was cool. “And I’m sure you won’t do it again. Because I may be just the bitch in administration, but I’m the bitch who makes you look good and gets you clients. So if I were you, I’d think very, very carefully about how you treat me and my colleagues in future.” I gave him a cold smile. “Oh, and Alistair? The next time you want to make assumptions about someone’s sexuality, I’d suggest you don’t. Because I will not make your life pleasant if you do. After all, we wouldn’t want Holly and Andrew to know you hold these… views since we definitely have some clients who are full-fledged members of the alphabet mafia. The current owners of the rectory in Cherry Willingham for example.”

I enjoyed watching Alistair’s expression go through a mix of anger, fear, loathing, and disgust before settling on begrudging acceptance of his position. I doubted this would be the end of the conversation, but for now, I was going to take the win. I took a victory sip of my coffee.

“I’ll go and check my emails,” Alistair said, his voice clipped. “Thank you.”

He turned and walked towards the stairs at a slightly faster pace than usual. I smirked. “Don’t cross me bitch,” I muttered quietly.

“That was exciting,” said Pamela as she returned to her desk.

“What’s Halloween without banishing a few frogs.” I pretended to wave a magic wand. “Bippity-boppity back the fuck up, bitch. I have the magical powers of a law degree and too much self-confidence, and I’m not afraid to use them.”

She gave me a wry grin. “You know, you really would make a good barrister.”

“I would,” I agreed, “but powdered wigs are so not my style.”

The rest of the afternoon passed in typical fashion with no more excitement. I spent most of it doing busy work and occasionally poking Tristan on Microsoft Teams because I was bored. In the back of my mind, I was turning over potential routine ideas and dismissing ninety percent of them. I definitely wasn’t going to do anything Christmas themed—that was cliché and so not my style—but doing something Halloween-esque felt similar.

Bitch Fit looked like a stereotypical, walking Halloween fantasy but she was so much more, and I wanted people to see that.

As Tristan had said, I didn’t need to change who I was. I needed to be quintessentially me, only with the dial turned up a notch.

I was also going to need to get the date in everyone’s diaries ASAP if I wanted them to come. The show had been selling tickets and tables for months, and if my family wanted to be there, they’d need at least one table. Probably two.

I sighed to myself, tapping my pen on the notepad beside me, pretending to be making memos for Holly.

If I did want my family to come, I was going to have to tell them about Tristan because there was no way in hell I was going to do this without him. And I wasn’t going to pretend for a whole evening that I had no clue who he was beyond a friend of Richard’s. That wasn’t fair to me, and it wasn’t fair to Tristan. We were grown-ass adults in a consenting relationship—who the fuck cared if he was my asshat older brother’s best friend? I lov—had very strong feelings for Tristan. And I was going to own them. Fuck Richard, and fuck anyone else who kicked up a stink. They could be happy for us, or they could get the fuck out of my life.

Besides, if we got a couple of bottles of wine down Lewis, he’d tell everyone anyway. Might has well tell it my way.

By the time Tristan came downstairs again, I’d made up my mind.

“I’ve been thinking,” I said as I reached for my coat, “about my family and It’s a Drag!.”

“We should tell them,” Tristan said, pulling on his own dark peacoat. I’d never considered men in suits particularly sexy until I’d met Tristan, but he carried them effortlessly. “I mean, I’d like to because, selfishly, I don’t think I can pretend we’re just friends for the evening.”

“You read my mind.” I grinned. “You should stop stealing my thoughts. I need them.”

“Maybe you’re stealing mine?”

“Outrageous.” I stepped in close to steal a quick kiss. “The nerve, Mr. Rose, the nerve.”

He chuckled, the sound resonating through my chest like a church bell. “I heard you really pissed off Alistair this afternoon.”

“Yes, well, Alistair should learn to read his emails and think before he speaks.”

“I wish Pamela hadn’t banished me. I’d have liked to have seen that.”

“Don’t worry,” I said, straightening the lapels of Tristan’s coat simply because I wanted to touch him. “I’m sure it’ll happen again.”

“Next time, please get Pamela to buzz me. It’ll break up my workday.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want you getting bored. It’s not like you have work to do.”

“It’s not like you don’t have work either,” Tristan said, poking me gently in the chest. We both laughed, and he leant down for another kiss. God, this man… this man. He’d changed everything.

“A dead hamster could do my job, and nobody would notice I’d been replaced.”

“I’d notice.” Tristan pulled a sad face, but his eyes were twinkling. “Who else is going to give me secret biscuits?”

“I knew you had an ulterior motive for dating me.”

“Ah yes, how else would I get biscuits?” he said with a deadpan expression, then he reached out his hand and interlaced his fingers with mine. “Want to come get dinner at mine? We can plan how to tell your family. I can drop you back later if you want. Or did you have Halloween plans with Orlando?”

“Not really. I think we were just going to watch silly horror movies and eat sweets,” I said. “Our plans have somewhat mellowed as we’ve gotten older.” Once upon a time we’d have gone out partying, getting drunk and hooking up with whoever looked cute in their costume. But I was too old for that now. I’d spent half the weekend on my feet, and now I just wanted to sleep and maybe eat some Tangfastics and a mini Milky Way.

“Will he mind if I steal you?”

“If he does, he’ll just ring his boyfriends and say he’s alone and scared. They’ll come running and fuck him senseless instead.” Tristan snorted, and I grinned.

“Okay, so dinner at mine it is,” Tristan said. “But if you want to watch a horror movie, you’ll have to protect me.”

“I’m sure I can do that.” I stole another kiss. Three was a magic number. “If you want, we can divert via mine so I can grab something for tomorrow and then I can stay the night?” I suggested. “I know we said tomorrow, but—”

“Sounds good to me,” Tristan said, cutting me off before I could finish. “Let’s go.”

He pulled open the front door and led me out into the darkness of Halloween night, his hand wrapped tightly around mine.