Elly in Love (The Elly Series) (9 page)

Elly woke up the next morning, tangled in her sheets. Her eyes were sore, and she felt them sinking back into her skull with a lack of sleep. After pulling on her comfy reindeer PJ pants and checking her appearance in the mirror (which brought a thoroughly disappointed sigh), she wandered into the living room, Cadbury trotting at her heels. Elly paused in the living room, a half smile on her face. Keith slept on the floor near the door, a bright-red baseball bat clutched loosely in his hand. Elly found herself delighted at the loud snoring that shook his entire body, and eyed the way his shoulders stretched out his thin white T-shirt. As she watched him, lying there on her hard, chilly floor, her heart clutched and released. Just the sight of him, of his gentle and chivalrous soul, touched Elly somewhere deep and vulnerable. She felt an “I love you” dance lightly on her tongue. Then, for no discernible reason, she swallowed it quickly. Cadbury took a running jump and landed with his heavy paws square on Keith’s chest, covering his face with wet kisses, his drool intermingling with Keith’s.

“
Gaaaahhhh!”
Keith leapt up from the floor, flinging Cadbury off his chest. “Why is the dog molesting me?” He wiped his mouth. “Ugh, he tastes like fish biscuits….”

Elly made her way into the kitchen, picking up her stainless steel kettle and filling it with water. “What can I say? You’re pretty good-looking. Very molestable. Tea?”

Keith brushed off his shirt and soothed Cadbury by scratching his ears before kissing Elly lightly on the forehead. “Did I tell you that you look gorgeous this morning?”

Elly nuzzled his cold nose. “I know that’s a lie, but thank you. So, would you like tea?”

“I would love nothing more than to sit and have tea with you, but I actually have to run. I have to meet a man at nine to talk about sausage.”

Elly smiled. “Coming from anyone else, that would sound very strange.”

Keith sank down slowly on Elly’s couch with a groan. “Remind me to get an air mattress for the next time you get a creepy backpack left in front of your door. No offense, but your floor is not very comfortable.”

Without a word, Elly pointed to her empty couch. Keith shrugged. “Being in front of the door felt more natural. My protective instincts might not be my most logical ones. How are you feeling?”

Elly pondered it for a minute. While her hysteria had been slept off, her paranoia and unease had remained. The morning light was helping, though, and she could see that perhaps her fears had been exacerbated by the late hour. “I’m okay, I think. I still feel a little nervous, but I think I overreacted about the backpack. I can get … a little anxious sometimes.”

Keith tucked a piece of her crazy morning hair behind her ear. “Elly. You are the most important thing in the world to me right now. If you are feeling apprehensive, I will be here for you in a heartbeat. Besides, I don’t like this, either. There is just something peculiar about the whole thing.”

Elly quickly interrupted him. “I think we should look in the backpack.”

Keith looked confused. “What?”

“I didn’t think of it last night because I was….” Elly’s memory flashed to last night, hysterically crying on the phone to Keith. She vaguely remembered saying the words “
serial killer
” and “
hook-handed murderer.
”
Oh geez
. Keith had rushed over to calm Elly down and to make her feel safe in her apartment. He had also brought his famous black-and-white cookies—and that hadn’t hurt either. Elly gave a sigh. “Yeah, I maybe went a little crazy last night.”

Keith stood and pulled on his jacket while trying to kiss Elly repeatedly. “Don’t apologize to me. If you were concerned, then I am too. There is nowhere else in the world I would have rather slept.” He paused, his tired eyes glinting in the morning light. “Except for on an air mattress. I would have rather slept on an air mattress.”

Elly flashed him a look of adoration.

He grinned. “I don’t think that you overreacted last night. You were unnerved by your experience with this kid already, and to come home in the dark and see that—” he gestured to the disgusting backpack sitting on the kitchen table. “You were well within your rights to freak out. I don’t think you have quite enough material to be on
Unsolved Mysteries
, like you suggested, but I don’t see the harm in the looking through it. At the very least, we’ll satisfy my curiosity.”

Keith and Elly walked cautiously over to the backpack, which was sitting in the middle of the bare table. He sniffed it, his face contorting with revulsion. “Ugh, this smells like an old burrito. Don’t smell it.”

Elly laughed. “Why did you?”

“I have no idea.” Using a napkin, Keith unzipped the pack and turned it upside down. Keith clutched his heart with mock fear as items fell to the table. “What are we expecting here? Duct tape? Rope?” Keith dropped his voice to a melodramatic whisper. “Is it a serrated knife? It’s always a serrated knife.”

Elly gave a frown as she sorted through the items with a wooden spoon. “It’s more like … Pringles. You watch too many crime shows.” There was a variety of strange items in the bag: a pair of crumpled up tighty-whities, two pairs of stonewashed jeans, a half-eaten Snickers bar, two worn magazines that dealt with video gaming, something called a “A Character Guide to Dungeons and Dragons,” a carefully folded picture of Sarah Michelle Gellar, and a much-loved paperback featuring a half-naked woman straddling a dragon. “What in the …?” wondered Elly, glancing at the book with a look of revulsion. “What does this tell us?”

“It tells us that this kid is a huge nerd who only has one pair of underpants.”

“A serial killer nerd with only one pair of underpants,” murmured Elly as she shook the can of Pringles.
Half full. Who did that?

Keith straightened up and gave a horrible impression of a detective. “Based on the contents of the backpack, here’s what I would guess: The kid came back for his flowers, and somehow found his way up to your apartment. He knocked. You weren’t here because you were out with Kim at the restaurant.”

“Oh man, those enchiladas were so good,” Elly whispered.

Keith rubbed her cheek with the back of his finger. “Elly, based on this, I think he just accidentally left his backpack here. I’m pretty sure at this point there is nothing to be afraid of.”

She straightened up and looked at the geeky goods spread out on the table. Elly closed her eyes, feeling his finger brush her cheek. “You’re probably right. I’m overreacting. As usual. The sangria might have helped, now that I think about it.”

Keith picked up the book and thumbed through the pages. “Oh, yuck. This book has illustrations.” He turned the novel over. “I didn’t know that trolls were so well-endowed….”

A small piece of paper slipped out of the book and fell onto the table. Elly cautiously slid it down the table and flipped it over with the spoon. It was a worn out family photo, faded and yellow around the edges. A solemn man stared out from the left of the photo, the agitated look jumping off his face, even from behind thick spectacles. His stiff arm draped over the round shoulders of a cheery-looking, voluptuous woman. Her lap was completely swallowed under the weight of a chubby young boy, who was desperately clutching a plastic Millennium Falcon. While the mother and the boy were obviously at ease with each other, the father looked disinterested and distant. Elly pointed to the picture. “I’m pretty sure this is the kid from the store. Same blond hair.”

Keith tilted his head. “Cute family.”

Elly flicked the picture. “Nope. Weird family. Weird kid, weird backpack.” They both stared at the picture in silence, jumping when the kettle blew its long whistle. “Holy crap,” breathed Elly.
It’s official, she
thought,
I have creeped out my boyfriend
. There was a moment where she thought about the word boyfriend. It was so bizarre. Boyfriend? Elly Jordan has a boyfriend? What was she, twelve? She had already been married.
Why couldn’t there be a better name? Partner? Companion? Lover?
She looked down at the couch pillow lying on the floor.
Definitely not lover.

Keith handed her a steaming cup of honey chamomile tea, its biscuit-scented goodness filling up the living room. Elly had the sudden urge to kiss him. She reached for him, spilling hot tea down the front of his brown shirt.

“Oh, that’s really hot!”

“Oh, Keith, I’m so sorry! I just wanted to …,” Elly felt a twinge of nervousness. “Never mind, never mind … go meet with your sausage friend.”

“When you say it like that….” Keith leaned over and kissed her gingerly.

She gave him a soft smile, her red lips puffy from sleeping. “Thanks for coming over, for sleeping on the hard floor.”

“Thanks for kissing me, even though I had a dog lick my mouth this morning.”

“Ugh, that’s right. I take it back.”

“Never,” Keith declared. “It’s out there.”

She looked down at the table. “Thanks for touching the gross backpack.”

“And the naked elf book.”

“
And
the naked elf book.”

“Speaking of which, what should we do with the backpack?” They both stared at the table.

“I’m not touching the underwear,” blurted Elly.

Keith ran his hand across his stubbly chin. “I think we should pack up everything and leave the backpack outside the store. That way, if he comes back to get it, he can just grab it and go. You won’t even have to talk to him.”

“What if someone steals it?” She eyed the family picture. “I would hate for that to happen.”

Keith frowned. “Yes, we wouldn’t want someone out there to get away with …,” he unfolded the magazine cutout, “a giant
Buffy The Vampire Slayer
poster.”

“I think I’ll put it right inside the shop door. That way, if he comes, he can just grab it and get out, and I won’t have to worry about anyone stealing it.”

Keith grabbed his keys and black wallet from the table. “That sounds like a great idea. And Elly,” he turned and faced her full on, his warm breath on her cheek, “you call me the minute he shows up. I’m right up the street, and I will be there in a second.”

“Don’t worry,” reassured Elly. “Anthony will be there, too.”

“What is he going to do, throw his ascot at him?”

Elly smacked him lightly. “Go.”

Keith strode out the door, shutting it softly behind him. The apartment was suddenly silent and Elly looked over at Cadbury, who was lying belly up in the sun. She wandered over to the table and picked up the picture of the family. There was something sad about the picture, something melancholy. Maybe it was the hideous couch in the background. Elly shrugged and ordered herself not to focus on something she obviously had no part of.

It didn’t work. Hours later at the store, she was still thinking about the backpack.

“So, who
is
it?” asked Anthony, twirling his pen. “Who is our celebrity?”

“Again, I told you, I don’t know.”

“You didn’t get anything in the paperwork?”

“Nope, it just says ‘Celebrity To Be Named.’ It’s all so mysterious and ridiculous all at once. They probably don’t want us talking to the tabloids.” That would be very exciting, actually. Elly
loved
her tabloids.

“So how does this work, then?” They were sitting at the consultation table, coming up with a plan for the
BlissBride
interview.

“According to the contract they sent over, we meet with the associate producer Gemma Reynolds, and she interviews us. She takes pictures of the mock-up table and meets with the owner. All that material is sent over to the celebrity client, and she picks which presentation she likes best. Even if we don’t get picked, the photo of our mock-up will still be shown on TV.”

“Sweet.” Anthony nodded. “I can’t believe her theme is pink, navy, and pinstripes.” He grimaced. “That makes my brain hurt. Still, I’m sure we can make it fabulous if we try. What have you come up with, you floral virtuoso, you?”

Elly grinned. “Well, here’s what I’m thinking….” With a pack of expensive colored pencils, she began sketching out low vases overflowing with pale-pink ranunculus, cream parrot tulips, pink-throated cymbidium orchids, gorgeous garden roses, stunning white peonies, and white-and-black anemones.

Anthony looked over her shoulder and whistled. “I have to admit, girl, you’re making that look pretty good.”

Elly leaned back. “My guess is that all the other florists are going to go for big, tall, and explosive. But this wedding ‘theme’ doesn’t’ really call for that. It calls for a sleek feel to go with the pinstripes.”

Anthony twiddled his thumbs. “This will be big. We’ll need help. Are you going to, er, call
her
?”

Elly bit her lip. “I don’t know who you are talking about.”

“Glitter thongs. European half shirts. Teal eye makeup. Excellent design instinct.”

Elly sighed as she colored in fuchsia-striped dahlias. “Yes, yes. I’ll call her. But I’m not going to grovel. She’s the one who stomped out of here with a stick up her….” She turned to Anthony. “Forget it. Would we be in season for gay paree peonies?”

He retreated behind the desk. “Researching now.”