Ella's Secret

I know it hasn't been too long since I ended Ocean's Apart, but I figured a follow-up for this girl was necessary. She's a side character that I kind of forgot about. Everyone, I present to you: Ella Wilson and her saucy secret!

Rain Dayze

May 4th, 2024, about a year before the events of Oceans Apart, 7:45 PM.

Natasha met me outside of O Windsor, a fairly popular bar in this area. We aren't from around here originally, having moved into a hotel just recently. So, essentially, we're tourists. Hopefully, the reviews of this place are accurate. I'd hate to waste our limited time off.

I see my close friend of twelve years, Natasha Volkov. She goes by Voln professionally, and very few know her last name. Besides those very close to her, that is.

Wearing a tight black thin-strapped dress and matching high heels, she waves me over

She's 5'8", slim with curves in all the right places, plentiful breasts, gorgeous dark brown eyes, and long, glossy auburn hair. Despite being Russian, her accent is British. Are they both natural? That's a secret. Yes, she's the perfect type for the modeling/influencing jobs we do.

Alongside my blonde hair, blue eyes, and petite figure, the two of us pair well in pictures. At least that's what our agents tell us. So often, we work spreads together; when we aren't, we are traveling all over Europe.

Behind all of that, though, she's my best friend whom I haven't spent a lot of personal time with lately.

"Hey girl!" Natasha greets me, kissing my cheeks. "Get settled in your room yet?"

We each booked long-term stay rooms at a local hotel, at least until we could find a place to live. Our relocation comes from not wanting to live in busy, musty London anymore. Natasha didn't want to live in Norwich anymore. Mother issues. While there are many jobs available there, the city is just too...much sometimes. Full of noise, expectations, and God-awful traffic.

I nod. "It's quite nice, small, but nice." The room was the only one available since it's tourist season.

"Ugh, don't I know it!" Natasha groans, rolling her eyes. "By the way, loving the dress!" She indicates for me to spin around.

Tonight, I chose a baby doll pink tube top dress with a short ruffled skirt, my long blonde hair is in a playful high ponytail, with sparkly white open-toed pumps. A cute, yet playful outfit for having a fun night out. Of course, she would ask me to show it off.

With a grin, I oblige. Twirling around like a carefree little girl with a fancy new dress. Giggling as Natasha takes a few candid photos. She mimics our usual photographer by saying, "Yes, darling, more energy! Love it! Love it!"

After messing around, we head inside.

We signed up for something called 'Supper Club', which begins at 8:00 PM and ends at 1:00 AM. It has a decent-sized menu and bottomless cocktails if you order an entree. Plus music and dancing after 9:00. Natasha and I start with a bruschetta and a glass of red wine each. Looking around, we notice several attractive men. All eating, drinking, and chatting about the entertainment tonight. Sounds like it might be interesting.

Across from us, two guys catch our attention. They seem to be close friends as they are joking and laughing a lot, sipping on pints of Guinness with thick foam on top. One of the guys looks a little younger with a petite body structure, short curly blonde hair, no facial hair, sparkling blue eyes, and wearing jeans with a navy blue t-shirt. He's cute, in a little brother kind of way.

His friend, on the other hand, oh my God! He’s tall, muscular in a healthy ‘I take care of my body’ kind of way, thick, shaggy, sandy blonde hair that falls halfway to his shoulders, big green eyes, and a light trace of facial hair on his chin. Every inch of him was brimming with masculine charm. Not to mention his outfit. He’s wearing a white half-unbuttoned dress shirt and black slacks. Semi-formal, semi-casual, all raw sex appeal.

“Mm,” Natasha purrs, sipping her wine with a smirk. “Those two are cute. I wonder if they want some company?”

Hm, this is supposed to be a girls' night out, but…what the heck?

“We should ask, “ I reply with a mischievous grin. Wanting to know more about tall, shaggy, and handsome. “There’s always room for more.” I stand up, walking towards their table. “Come on.” Natasha follows me.

The tall guy grins widely as we approach. “Ladies, how may we be of service?” Sweet little brother guy nervously moves around in his chair. Am I making him uncomfortable?

Before I can speak, Natasha says, “We were wondering if you’d like to join us. Our table has plenty of space.” She winks at both of them. Tall guy wiggles his eyebrows, little brother sighs with a slight frown. He’s clearly not interested.

“Sure, right, Thom?” He says, nudging his friend's shoulder. “Could be fun to hang with these lovely ladies. Let’s go.” He gets up, gesturing for Thom.

They grab their drinks and join us. Thom across from me and Tall Guy across from Natasha, just great. She intends to hog the handsome guy's attention. Again. Like the last time we went ‘out’. I don’t want to make her upset, so I smile and ignore it. Maybe this time it will be different.

Natasha speaks first. “Why don’t we all introduce ourselves, you know, get better acquainted?” Her tone seems innocent, but carries a suggestive undertone. “I’ll go first, I’m Natasha.”

She nudges my shoulder, and I blush. “I’m Ella.”

Tall, handsome guy says confidently, “I’m Russef.”

He taps his friend on the shoulder and whispers loud enough for us to hear, “it’s your turn, Mate.”

Rolling his eyes and sighing, he replies, “I’m Thomas.”

The next several minutes are spent talking about the food and drinks here, how nice and relaxing the atmosphere is, and how much we look forward to the music and dancing later. Russef’s eyes widen in excitement at this mention. “Ah, you ladies are in for a treat! Thom and I have been here several times, and it’s always a banger of a good time!” He shakes Thomas around vigorously. He loosens up, literally, and starts chuckling.

We both giggle at his choice of words. He seems to be part Swedish, yet speaks with a thick British accent. It throws me off, but not in a bad way, more like a delightful surprise. I enjoy his interactions with Thomas. He seems to be genuinely trying to help him be more social and meet people. Probably mostly girls, but still. Bravo for his courage.

Dinner comes and goes as it turns 9:00 PM. My stomach churns from a mixture of nerves, the buttermilk burger Natasha and I split, and the three shots of tequila we each downed. Maybe drinking before dancing wasn't such a wise decision.

The bartender announces the music and dancing. Staff begin clearing the area for the dance floor and stage. Musical equipment, including a DJ booth, is set up. Looks like the advertisements for live music were correct.

Patrons start cheering and gathering. Waiting for their turn on the dance floor. Russef grins, rubbing his hands together while Thomas, with bright red cheeks, swerves back and forth humming a tune. He's loosened up a lot, it seems.

The main lights dim, making everyone chatter with concern. Suddenly, hundreds of neon lights come on. A man covered in multicolored glow necklaces and bracelets approaches the DJ table. He nods, presses some buttons, and then the music starts playing through various hidden speakers. It seems our DJ has arrived at last.

Each of us pairs up, so we don't get swept away by the growing crowd. Natasha takes Thomas, complete shocker, there, while I got Russef to myself. For now. The music started off fast with a strong beat. Very high-paced and high-energy. Perfect for getting everyone's blood pumping.

Russef starts flailing around like a madman while he grabs ahold of my waist, hauling me to the dance floor, exclaiming, "Come on, Ella, the night is still young!" I squeal in excitement. I haven't met someone this bold or energetic before.

We bump and grind against each other in a playful manner while Russef occasionally improvises dance moves. In the corner of my eye, I see Natasha doing her best to seduce Thomas. Rubbing her hands all over his chest, whispering things into his ear. He freezes up while dancing, clearly uncomfortable.

Suddenly, Russef spins me around, chuckling heartily before dipping me low. A blush floods my face, making me feel hot all over. He lingers for a moment, and then he shakes his head and pulls me back up. Like we didn't just have a moment.

I'm in a new city, no family nearby, and a hotel room half unpacked, not to mention my manager harassing me about new modeling gigs. But, for some reason, I didn't care.

The way he smiled at me made me forget all my troubles, even for just a moment.

Just as everything was looking good, tragedy struck. After we swapped dance partners, during a slow dance, Thomas tripped over his shoes, sending him, me, and several others to the floor. Russef stops dancing with Natasha and rushes over. "Thom!"

He helps Thomas and me up. Thomas stumbles, almost losing his balance again. Russef hoists his friend onto his shoulder, muttering something in a concerned voice.

"Ladies, apologies, I have to take him home," Russef says, visibly upset. "Maybe we'll meet again?" His voice sounds hopeful.

"Yeah," Natasha says, kissing Russef's cheek, holding his only available hand. "Next time, for sure."

We wave goodbye as the guys leave. Finishing our drinks and a few fun dances later, we head home.

About 11:00 PM, I place an order for some late-night ice cream. While I wait, I scroll through my phone, thinking about all the fun we had tonight. Specifically about how fun Russef was.

I wonder, passively, if I gave him my room number, would he have shown up? It’s not something I normally do, but for him, I would’ve made an exception. My thoughts are interrupted by a knock, then, “Room service for Ms. Wilson?”

I open the door eagerly, allowing him to leave the tray containing a banana fudge sundae inside, and then I tip the man before he leaves. Such good service. Before I close my door, I see across the hall, at Natasha’s room, Russef standing there. I close my door partially, leaving it open a crack to spy.

He knocks a few times, Natasha steps out wearing a lacy red nightgown, gesturing for him to come inside. He obliges with a huge grin on his face. Everything clicks together. When she kissed his cheek, she left her room number with him! Wow, I got to hand it to her, she’s good.

He doesn’t leave until morning, wearing the same clothes he arrived in. My chest aches at this revelation. This isn’t the first time Natasha has swiped a guys attention from me, so why does it feel different? Why does it feel like I’m being suffocated?

To be continued…