310: The Unexpected Date

310: The Unexpected Date
Ella’s POV

The moment I saw Shawn standing there, under the flickering neon lights of the club, my heart did a somersault. Of all the places, of all the nights, it had to be here, now. 

My mind raced, and a single thought hit me like a lightning bolt: Celeste. That sly, meddling woman. She’d been so insistent about me coming to this club, practically shoving me out the door with that dress and her promises of a fun night. There was no way this was a coincidence. Celeste had her fingerprints all over this.

For a second, Shawn and I just stood there, staring at each other like we’d both seen a ghost. The music pounded around us, but it felt distant, like the world had shrunk to just the two of us. 

His eyes—those same eyes that used to make my knees weak—locked onto mine, and I could see the shock mirrored in his expression. My stomach twisted, a mix of nerves and something else I wasn’t ready to name. 

We hadn’t spoken in weeks, not since everything fell apart, and now here we were, face-to-face, in the middle of a crowded club.

“Ella,” he said again, like he needed to make sure I was real. His voice was low, almost drowned out by the bass, but it still sent a shiver down my spine.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but all that came out was a shaky, “Hey.”

There was this awkward pause, the kind where you’re both trying to figure out what to say, how to act, when your history is a minefield you’re scared to step into. 

I shifted my weight, suddenly hyper-aware of how tight my dress was, how exposed I felt. Shawn looked… good. Too good. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned, his hair a little messier than usual, and there was a shadow of stubble on his jaw that made him look older, more grounded. 

But his eyes—they hadn’t changed. They still had that intensity that always made me feel like he could see right through me.

“Do you, uh… want to grab a drink?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck. He sounded nervous, which was almost comforting. At least I wasn’t the only one feeling like I was walking on eggshells.

I hesitated, my mind screaming at me to make an excuse and bolt. But something in his expression—maybe the way he looked at me, like he was hoping I wouldn’t disappear—made me nod. “Sure,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “A drink sounds good.”

He gave me a small, relieved smile and gestured toward a quieter corner of the club, where a few plush booths lined the wall, away from the chaos of the dance floor. 

I followed him, my heels clicking against the floor, my heart pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. As we sat down, the music faded to a dull hum, and I could finally think straight—or at least try to.

The bartender brought over two drinks—a whiskey for Shawn and a mojito for me. I took a sip, letting the cool mint settle my nerves. Shawn leaned back in the booth, his fingers wrapped around his glass, and for a moment, we just sat there, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between us.

“So,” he started, breaking the silence. “How… how have you been?”

It was such a simple question, but it felt loaded. How was I supposed to sum up the last few weeks? The late nights at work, the quiet moments with Lily, the ache in my chest that I couldn’t shake? I took another sip, buying time. 

“I’ve been okay,” I said finally, managing a small smile. “Work’s been good. Busy, but good. And Lily… she’s settling into her new school. She loves it, actually. Keeps talking about this art class she’s in.”

Shawn’s face lit up at the mention of Lily, and it made my heart twist. He’d always been so good with her, so patient. “That’s great,” he said, his voice warm. “She’s a smart kid. I bet she’s got all the teachers wrapped around her finger already.”

I laughed, a real laugh, and it felt good. “Pretty much. She’s got this way of charming everyone. Even the principal’s started calling her ‘Miss Lily’ like she’s royalty.”

He chuckled, the sound low and familiar, and for a second, it was like nothing had changed. Like we were back in that easy space we used to share, before everything got complicated. “Sounds like her,” he said, taking a sip of his whiskey. “And you? You’re really doing okay?”

There it was again—that look, like he was searching for something in me. I shifted in my seat, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I mean… it’s been a lot. But I’m managing. What about you? How’s work?”

He shrugged, but there was a flicker of pride in his eyes. “It’s going well. Better than I expected, honestly. Cliff and Garrett… they’re not a problem anymore. I’ve got things under control now.”

I felt a wave of relief at that. I knew how much pressure he’d been under with the Hayes family breathing down his neck. “That’s amazing, Shawn,” I said, and I meant it. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks,” he said, his voice softer now. He looked down at his glass, swirling the amber liquid. “It’s been a lot of work, but… it’s good to have something to focus on.”

I nodded, understanding more than I wanted to admit. Work had been my lifeline too, a way to keep the loneliness at bay. We sat there for a moment, the silence between us less awkward now, more… comfortable. 

The drinks helped, loosening the tension, and before I knew it, we were talking like we used to. He told me about a new project he was excited about, and I shared a funny story about Lily trying to “reorganize” my kitchen cabinets. 

We laughed, and it felt so easy, so natural, that I almost forgot why we’d stopped talking in the first place.

“You know,” Shawn said, leaning forward, his elbows on the table, “I didn’t expect to see you here. You don’t exactly strike me as the club type.”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, and you are? Mr. ‘I’d rather stay in and read a contract than dance’?”

He laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, fair. I’m only here because Sidd practically kicked me out of the house. Said I was working myself into an early grave.”

“Sidd’s a smart guy,” I said, grinning. “You should listen to him more often.”

“Yeah, well, he’s gonna love hearing that,” Shawn muttered, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. “What about you? What brought you out tonight? Don’t tell me you just felt like hitting the club.”

I hesitated, my fingers tracing the rim of my glass. I wasn’t about to admit that Celeste had orchestrated this whole thing—at least, I was pretty sure she had. “Let’s just say a friend thought I needed a night out,” I said, keeping it vague. “Apparently, I’ve been ‘too serious’ lately.”

“Your friend’s not wrong,” he said, his tone teasing but gentle. “You look… amazing, by the way. That dress is…” He trailed off, his cheeks flushing slightly, like he’d said more than he meant to.

I felt my face heat up, and I looked down, suddenly shy. “Thanks,” I mumbled, tucking my hair behind my ear again. “It’s… not my usual style.”

“It should be,” he said, his voice low, and the way he looked at me made my pulse race.

We kept talking, the conversation flowing as easily as the drinks. He told me about a trip he’d taken for work, and I shared how Lily had started insisting on picking out her own outfits, which usually meant mismatched socks and a tiara. 

We laughed until my sides hurt, and for the first time in weeks, I felt light, like I could breathe again. The awkwardness that had hung between us when we first bumped into each other was gone, replaced by something warm and familiar.

But underneath it all, there was still this undercurrent, this unspoken thing between us. Every time our eyes met for a little too long, or our hands brushed as we reached for our drinks, I felt it—the pull, the history, the what-ifs. 

I didn’t know what to do with it, so I pushed it down, focusing on the moment, on the laughter, on the way it felt to just be with him again.

The night stretched on, and I realized I didn’t want it to end. Not yet. But as I looked at Shawn, his smile soft and his eyes warm, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just a random encounter. 

Celeste had set this up, I was sure of it. And as much as I wanted to be mad at her for meddling, a part of me was grateful. Because sitting here, laughing with Shawn, felt like the first real moment of joy I’d had in a long time.