Three weeks to fall in l.., p.1
Three Weeks to Fall in Love, page 1
Three Weeks to Fall in Love
An Ellipsis Novella
Ellie Owen
Copyright © 2024 Ellie Owen
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THREE WEEKS TO FALL IN LOVE Copyright © 2023 by Ellie Owen
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.
ISBN 978-65-00-84315-6 (Paperback - ‘The Prenup’ Bonus Scene)
ISBN 978-65-00-96905-4 (Ebook - ‘The Owner’ Bonus Scene)
Cover Design by Ellie Owen
First U.S Edition March 2024
For more information, bonus content, and more, please contact the author at www.ellieowen.com
To Aleish.
Without you, this book wouldn’t be out into the world. Thank you.
To the people tired of trying their best only to see others achieving their dreams first.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Dedication
Books by Ellie Owen
Content Warning
Playlist
Praise from the Bookish Community for
Chapter 0
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
CHapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
CHapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
CHapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
CHapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Epilogue - First Step to Redemption
The Owner - Bonus Scene
A Letter of Acknowledgement
Books By This Author
Books by Ellie Owen
Ellipsis: A Love Story
Thea Scriven, a romance author struggling to have her breakthrough might have a change of luck in love and business when she meets Adrian Friedman, a Fantasy Editor and Heir to major publishing house.
Three Weeks to Fall in Love
In the novella companion to “Ellipsis: A Love Story,” Adrian juggles work, friendship, and the blooming romance with Thea as he forges connections to help the romance writer achieve her dreams.
Content Warning
This book contains explicit content, profanity, references to suicide ideation, discussion of sexual violence (rape), discussion of murder, discussion of misogyny, and panic attacks.
Playlist
Praise from the Bookish Community for
Three Weeks To Fall In Love
“No one writes a strong female character like Ellie Owen.”
— Courtney, @cbbookss
“Adrian has my whole heart. This feminist idol can fold us all in a second.”
— Shay, @shaytriesreading
“I can’t put this book into just sentence. Three Weeks to Fall in Love is definitely worth more than it.”
— Jada Smith
"Ellie Owen's spellbinding spin-off that will leave you breathless - a must read that's as irresistible as it is unforgettable."
— Wajiha, @letterstojiya
“Ellie’s writing style is so unlike any other. She has a sort of style that draws you into the world she creates, and it’s descriptive, detailed, and meaningful. Every word has a reason to be there.”
— Aleish, @bookaleish_
“Three Weeks to Fall in Love was a magnificent journey of finding someone who makes you shine bright, flaws and all.”
— @readingmisery
“This book is everything I've hoped for and more! Ellie really knows how to make me giggle and kick my feet.”
— Maria, @mariasreadingcornerr
“Adrian >> anyone else
This book has me literally screaming, crying, throwing up, kicking my feet and giggling like a school girl!”
— Drew, @drewreadss
“Ellie Owen is a master at writing escapism that lingers with you; she’ll take you out of the real world while giving you a deeper look on humanity.”
— Lisa, @liskisreading
“God made Ellie Owen create Adrian as an apology for the creation of men.”
— Em, @smellofnewpages
“A Sunday kind of love; a modern classic with the truest love; a heartbreakingly gorgeous romantic masterpiece.”
— Isabella, @isabella_reads_
"Ellie Owen's writing is beautiful and so engaging! I was taken from the first page! Her writing, these characters! Such emotion and reality shown through her work! That's one aspect I really like, her characters are real and true!"
-Amina, @_amysread
“Ellie’s writing is like coming home after a long day and finally feeling at peace.”
— Nádia, @confessionsofnadia
“Three Weeks to Fall in Love by Ellie Owen is an electrifying city romance that will sweep you off your feet and leave you believing in the power of love!”
— @thats.so.book
“An emotional story but leaves you with tears of Joy, Ellie knows how to write heartwarming characters that make you feel like you’re taking the journey with them.”
— @error404books
"Heartwarming with a hint of sexy and swoon. You’ll fall in love instantly.”
— Rose, @rose_thebookaholic
Chapter 0
Adrian Friedman never believed in love at first sight. He always thought of it as a blasphemous fable. Yet, if there is such thing as Cupid, then he’d been fatally injured by its arrow, poisoned with thoughts of Thea Scriven and her vexing tongue.
Sprawled over his death bed, a smile adorns his lips as Adrian’s mind is paralyzed by the memory of her face, each feature defined with the trespassing annoyance that flits across her face in his presence.
Or perhaps Adrian poisoned himself.
Indulging in more liquor than he’s used to, mixing the beer Adrian drank in Ether with the expensive bourbon he drank at home while waiting for his thunderous heart to grow placid.
“Thea,” His lids flutter closed as Adrian tastes the sound of her name for what must be the thousandth time. “Thee-uh, not like chamomile tea.”
Plagued by the slight pout of her lips, and the sagacity in how Thea’s brown eyes dissect customers with cruel efficiency.
The thick duvet bundling between his long legs as Adrian rolls in bed. Reaching for his phone in its charging dock with a ginger smile as he reads the last transaction in his wiring app.
You sent Thea Scriven $1000.
“For the tip.”
If his dark locks were long enough, Adrian would be twirling his hair between his fingers with the memory of how he counted down the seconds while making his way to the subway.
Waiting until an appropriate amount of time had passed since parting ways with Thea before wiring her money.
Fifteen minutes was all Adrian could wait for, he couldn’t bring himself to not appear desperate when he was craving for her company as soon as she left him alone.
Eu quero ver a leãozinha.
I want to see the little lioness, Adrian muses, beginning a new transaction within the wiring app.
The haptic sound of his phone keyboard entangles itself with the ruffling sound of the sheets beneath his body, of his sweatpants getting caught within the duvet.
You sent Thea Scriven $1000.
“I plan to see you again. Consider this as credit.”
A titter raises in Adrian’s chest as he rereads the transaction while rolling in bed with his phone in hand. Thoughts drifting toward Thea, he wonders if she’ll roll her eyes at the ridiculous tip.
Maybe she’d merely sigh, but Adrian hopes she would feign annoyance while being oblivious to the tiny smirk adorning her lips.
His treacherous heart beats faster at the idea of Thea feeling the same way he does, at the fantasy of her thoughts being plagued by the short memories of him when her head hit the pillow.
Unaware of what he’s doing, Adrian giggles drunkenly until he hears his mother’s worried voice through his phone, followed by ruffling as the woman lifts the heavy duvet and shakes his father awake.
“O que aconteceu? Você ta passando mal?”
What happened? Are you feeling sick?
“Mamãezinha,” Adrian slaps a hand over his mouth, trying to hold back his smile. “Mãe, eu acho que e
Mommy. Mom, I think I know what dad means when he talks about meeting you for the first time.
“Você conheceu alguém? É por isso que você ta bebado?”
Did you meet someone? Is that why you’re drunk?
“Yeah… I met the most beautiful girl, mom. I think I want to marry Thea… Mom, what if I love her? I can’t stop thinking about her, about her smile, the way she smelled. My heart hurts when I think of not seeing her again, I just want to see her again. Do I love her? What do I do, mom? I’m scared, but I’m happy, and I’m scared that I’m happy.”
Gabriela sighs with a chuckle as she knows a little too well about how the Friedman men of the family acted when they fell in love. Knowing even better how magnetic they’d become when something deep in their soul clicked into place, turning them into a beacon that lured the subject of their affection closer.
It’s a phenomenon she’d only seen two times in her entire life, but she’d heard the tales about how her in-laws had met, being entangled within each other in a similar fashion that she’d been with Nathaniel.
“You know what the men in our family say, don’t you?” Gabriela asks, mimicking the serious tone her husband would use when reminding their son of this mysterious phenomenon.
“But is it true?”
Is it true that for every man in the family time had slowed down the first time they laid eyes on the women they’d later marry?
Is it true that for every man in the family they could feel each gallop of their heart, feel the palm of their hands become sweaty as they mouth became dry, stealing them of any charming remarks they could make when all their efforts went into memorizing every little thing about the women who’d taken their hearts hostage without ever demanding ransom.
Is it true that Adrian had found that woman on a random night in a random bar, that he’d lost some part of him to that beautiful stranger who’d taken root in his thoughts?
Adrian wonders all of those questions as he tells his mother about the exact shade of her hair—medium brown—and the sparse gold speckled in her stern eyes that seemed to study the world with a calculated indifference.
Rambling about her temper that had something acidic to it, amusing Adrian with how she’d speak her mind, damning anyone who’d have a problem with it.
Adrian talks about Thea until he’s enveloped in dreams of her, falling asleep with a single prayer on his lips as he hopes love at first sight is real and that Cupid shot her too.
The sun slices through the morning clouds immuring the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the room in golden light that rouses Adrian like a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Cheek pressed against a silky pillow, gray eyes wander through the room. Adrian’s dark brows knit closer as he’s confused over why the curtains are drawn when his body is still heavy with exhaustion and his head is pounding as if there was construction being done in his brain.
“What time is it?” Adrian murmurs, patting the creases in his duvet in search of his phone as he faintly remembers calling his mom to tell her about Thea.
Time becomes nugatory when the bright artificial light blinds him for a second before he reads the notification he’d gotten just a few minutes ago.
Thea Scriven sent you $2000.
“My time is not for sale.”
“She remembers who I am.”
A smile adorns his lips when Adrian leaps out of bed, tiptoeing toward the other side, where the shearling loafers his mother bought him when his housekeeper told Gabriela he would always walk around barefoot.
That smile perseveres as he types out a new transaction, keeping his eyes on the screen while pacing back and forth, waiting for a reply that comes soon after.
You sent Thea Scriven $2000.
“Take the money, it’s yours.”
Thea Scriven sent you $2000.
“No fucking way.”
Adrian drags his feet toward the hallway, humming contently despite the knowledge he’ll be late for work since he should be on his way out of the shower instead of ambling toward his kitchen.
“God, she’s so cute.”
You sent Thea Scriven $2001.
“Don’t devalue your time.”
Thea Scriven sent you $2001.
“Stop sending me money. I get paid enough to tolerate customers!!!!”
“What a stubborn little woman. Good morning, Daphne, how are you feeling today? I’m feeling terrific.” Adrian carols in greeting as the housekeeper untangles the cord of the industrial vacuum cleaner she’d been using to deep clean the penthouse.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“Yes, I’m severely late, but I’m going to make myself some tea, would you like anything from the kitchen?”
Daphne snorts a laugh as she pulls her bright pink hair out of its ponytail. The young woman had begun working at the penthouse as part of the training her mother had laid-out so one day Daphne could be the CEO of the cleaning company her mother founded with a loan from Adrian’s dad.
Yet, it’d been the single mother who grew the company from a solo operation to a multinational business that provides its services to the most elite members of society.
Daphne had never complained about how her mother expected Daphne to fulfill the same positions her mother once held within the company as a way for the young woman to know the value of every job and task their employees fulfilled within the company.
“I’m surprised you even know where your kitchen is.”
“I’m deeply wounded, Daphne. I know where I live.”
“Really? Where is the pantry?”
Adrian carols loudly.
Pretending he couldn’t hear Daphne as he drags his feet over the polished flooring, he ventured down the maze of hallways that’d taken him a few months of living in the penthouse to learn his way around the three floors.
“Sorry, I can’t hear you, have fun cleaning.” His fingers brush against the corner of the wall as Adrian glances down at Thea’s phone number displayed over in the wiring app.
Without giving himself the chance to chicken out, Adrian dials her number. Heart beating faster, he waits and waits, fearing he’ll go to voicemail.
“Hello?” There is an inflection to her voice that makes Adrian bite the back of his hand as he tries to muster a nonchalant demeanor.
“Will you stop sending your tip back?”
“Adrian?”
She remembers my name, Adrian punches the air in celebration, acting as if her knowing his name was some sort of victory.
“Are you that popular?” His voice sounds huskier as Adrian tries to not let his giddy excitement slip into his tone. “Who else is sending you tips?”
“There is only one moron who’d send $1000 tips. Which I decline, so you should stop sending me money.”
“‘Being a guinea pig to you isn’t on the menu, sir. 'I expect a bountiful tip’, that’s what you said, isn’t it?” Adrian quotes her, hoping Thea is rolling her eyes with a tiny little smirk adorning her lips. “You got your tip, please keep it.”
Silence stretches between them as Adrian steps into the stainless steel kitchen while listening to the strident sound of cutlery moving against a ceramic plate and Thea’s soft breaths as he opens his fridge before remembering he’d been there to make tea.
Filling an electric kettle with water, Adrian meanders around his kitchen in search of a mug, trying to be as silent as he can to not disrupt the odd moment.
Adrian always found an odd sense of intimacy in staying on the phone with someone, neither bothering to speak when the knowledge of their existence on the other side of the line was enough.
“And the other thousand bucks?” Thea breaks the silence as Adrian pours warm water into his mug.
“Well, later this week, I have another meeting,” Adrian explains, noticing he never got around to getting the packets of earl gray tea. “I’ll take them to Ether, consider it an advancement, for being a guinea pig.”
“Good luck getting in, sir.”
“Why?”
“My boss-friend has a policy of not serving morons.”
Adrian laughs dryly while adding cubes of sugar into the warm water to hide the sound of his loafers scuffing the flooring as he dances, happy to hear her voice with an inflection of annoyance.
