The Last Encore (It's Always Been You Book 1), page 1
The Last Encore
IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU
BOOK ONE
ÉLODIE COLLIARD
Contents
Praise for The Last Encore
To Listen While Reading
Trigger warnings
Author’s note
1. The Art of Starting Over
2. Girl on Fire
3. In My Blood
4. Count On Me
5. Strangers
6. Always Remember Us This Way
7. Don’t
8. One More Hour
9. Ocean Eyes
10. Dress
11. Forgiveness
12. Ease my mind
13. Treacherous
14. I Guess I’ll Just Lie Here
15. Good As Hell
16. I Feel It Coming
17. Close
18. Father & Son
19. Adore You
20. The Luckiest
21. It’ll Be Okay
22. Hold On
23. The Fools who Dream
24. Wild
Epilogue
Enjoyed Avery & Josh’s story?
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright © 2022 by Elodie Colliard
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
First edition
Editing by Dominic Wakeford, Britt Tayler & Julie Mianecki
Book cover and design by Leni Kauffman
ISBN 9781778137907
Created with Vellum
Praise for The Last Encore
“The Last Encore beautifully captures the push and pull of a friendship evolving into something more, the magnetism of the people we structure our hearts around when we’re young, and the way returning to those people can feel like finally coming home. Full of heat, emotion, and endearing side characters, Josh and Avery’s love story will break your heart and then put it back together. A delicious treat for fans of heartfelt romantic dramas.” – Ashley Winstead, author of Fool Me Once
To Listen While Reading
Listen to Josh and Avery’s playlist
The Art of Starting Over – Demi Lovato
Girl on Fire – Alicia Keys
In My Blood – Shawn Mendes
Count on Me – Bruno Mars
Strangers – Jonas Brothers
Always Remember Us This Way – Bradley Cooper & Lady Gaga
Don’t – Her
One More Hour – Anthony Ramos
Ocean Eyes – Billie Eilish
Dress – Taylor Swift
Forgiveness – Paramore
Ease My Mind – Ben Platt
Treacherous – Taylor Swift
I Guess I’ll Just Lie Here – Noah Reid
Good As Hell – Lizzo
I Feel It Coming – The Weeknd
Close – Nick Jonas
Father and Sons – Cat Stevens
Adore You – Harry Styles
The Luckiest – Ben Folds
It’ll Be Okay – Shawn Mendes
Hold On – Adele
Audition (The Fools Who Dream) – Emma Stone
Wild – John Legend
Malibu – Miley Cyrus
Liebesträume No 3 – Franz Liszt
City Of Stars – Ryan Gosling
Clair de Lune – Claude Debussy
Million Years Ago – Adele
Trigger warnings
Sexual assault, depression, anxiety, loss of a loved one
Author’s note
Dear reader,
Thank you for choosing to give The Last Encore a chance. I felt it was important to take the time to talk a little more about the content warnings in this story.
It quickly became evident to me to include in Avery's background a reference to sexual abuse, because of my own experience. In today's society, and in the post- #MeToo movement, I wanted to be brave and share what I experienced through Avery.
Although this moment does not take up more than six pages in the book, the sexual assault that Avery experiences is described on page (208-215). The purpose of this is not to add shock value to the story, or to be disrespectful to victims of sexual violence, but to explain why some people, like me, like Avery, may have trouble living their intimacy. And it was essential to me that this scene occurs in my book, and not just be told in a conversation, or in Avery's thoughts. While it might be uncomfortable to read, not including it felt like I was silencing Avery's voice, and my own. It's time we hear these stories. That we read them.
Yet, the goal of the story is not to focus on Avery's recovery from what she has experienced in her past, but to explain her present behavior, and how she acts when confronted with intimacy. We all experience our traumas in different ways. I do not claim to speak for all victims of sexual violence, nor do I claim to offer a universal response to a very traumatic situation. I only share my experience, my story, in all humility.
Writing this piece of my own story was not easy, but in a way, it reconciled me with that part of myself that has lived in shame and silence for too long.
I hope that I have treated this topic with the sensitivity and care that it deserves, and that you, reader, feel safe and loved while reading this story.
With love,
Elodie
If you or a loved one have experienced abuse and need help, you can visit:
USA: RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network)
Canada: Crisis lines for those affected by gender-based violence
To the women who feel like giving up: everything is temporary. No matter how bad things are right now, it shall pass. And tomorrow is another day to get back up and fight, just like we’ve always done.
And to Emily Henry, the Yogurt Queen of the Ohio River Valley, who made me want to write and tell stories.
CHAPTER 1
The Art of Starting Over
“Shit, Simba!” The orange cat looked at her innocently from the kitchen counter, purring , as Avery inspected the cream top she’d just put on. Great. Her sleeve was covered in coffee stains and her favorite mug lay shattered on the floor. Her cat was giving her puppy-dog eyes, which was pretty ironic, considering.
“Don’t look at me like that. Look at what you did!” She grabbed the nearest napkin and started to dab the silk fabric. Well … that definitely made it worse. The stains spread in faint circles all around her arm, in an animal-style print, and her blouse was now wet.
“You, mister, are definitely going on the naughty list this year.” Avery waved her finger in front of Simba, who proceeded to sniff, then lick the tip, clearly missing her warning. Avery rolled her eyes. Nothing could distract him from a good scratch under the chin or the prospect of food.
Already late, she opened her closet in the hope of finding another top that said she had her shit together. She could not show up to her first meeting with a new client with coffee stains all over her, but above all, she couldn’t show up late.
She stripped down in one second and slipped on a burgundy cashmere sweater and a pair of dark jeans. Autumn was in full swing in Toronto, the air was cooler, and the leaves painted a burning picture all over the city, ranging from warm yellows to fiery reds.
Gathering her photography portfolio, Avery hurriedly tied her long brown hair in a (involuntary) messy bun while slipping on her boots. She was doing a maternity shoot with Claudia, a new client, and this meeting was supposed to set the tone for the rest of their time together.
“But you won’t make a good impression, if you don’t show up on time,” she mumbled to herself.
This contract was an opportunity for her to show how talented she was to a different kind of clientele, a wealthier set. It came with a huge paycheck, significantly more than what she was used to, which barely paid the bills. She needed to be focused, sharp and professional, as she always strived to be. One look in the mirror, and Avery confirmed she was ready to head out. She grabbed her keys and flew out of her apartment.
Kensington Avenue was a small street in her neighborhood, always very quiet in the mornings. Avery loved this side of Toronto, home to the famous Kensington Market, which made her salivate every time she passed alongside it, the aromas of food from all over the world mingling together. The neighborhood was full of vintage shops and vibrant and colorful Victorian row-houses that looked like a kaleidoscope coming to life on the streets. It was loud, it was bright, it was alive.
She lived in a sky-blue house that her best friend Brooke had inherited from her parents, who’d gracefully agreed to let Avery stay there. After her awful breakup with Alex last year, not to mention the dreadful announcement her parents had delivered to her and her brother four months later, while she was still trying to make sense of her new reality, Avery had desperately needed a place to stay. Brooke offered her the small one-bedroom, as her parents were now living outside of the city. It wasn’t perfect; the house had been empty and not in great shape
, but it had been exactly what she’d needed at the time. Plus, she’d thought that there was something kind of poetic about living in a house in need of a little bit of love. She could have used some too.
When Avery arrived in front of her new client’s house, the knot in her stomach tightened. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d driven to this part of the city, but even now, she felt like an intruder.
Bridle Path, one of the most ostentatious suburbs in Toronto, was nestled between the Don River Valley and lush, endless parks. It was also the place of all her childhood memories. Everything Kensington was, Bridle Path was the polar opposite. Big mansions, pools, tennis courts — anything opulent and over the top, it was here. Avery had never felt like she’d belonged in this place, home to a never-ending series of cocktail parties and fundraisers her parents used to throw when she and her brother Miles were younger. There were always people in their house, always something going on, because after all, you couldn’t refuse an invitation from the great Dan Clark.
Her dad, you could say, had ‘made it.’ He was a world-renowned neurosurgeon for the Toronto General Hospital, famous for assembling brilliant research teams to work on Alzheimer’s disease, while her mom, Rebecca, had stayed at home with her and her brother.
Dan had never been a family man, although Avery suspected that wasn’t the picture he’d painted back when he and Rebecca had planned on starting a family.
Avery wasn’t the kind of person to complain, but the fact was, the absence of her dad throughout her childhood hurt her. He was there when it mattered, at least, most of the time. Birthdays, Christmas, big milestones. But he’d missed out on her and her brother growing up, and wasn’t that the most important part of all? He’d missed the time Miles fell off his bike on his first ride and scraped his knees and hands so bad Grandma had to take him to the ER. He’d missed out on the time Avery got home from school so upset after her first boyfriend dumped her in front of her friends, she didn’t come out of her room for three days.
Sure, Avery remembered that she’d never felt lonely at Christmas, and when she looked at birthday pictures, she could always find both her parents surrounding her, smiling like they were proud to be there. But when she thought about it, all it did was remind her that the rest of the time, her dad wasn’t there, and her mom, although physically present, was miles aways from her kids in the ways that mattered.
Avery knew her mom got tired of Dan’s late nights and last-minute detours to the lab on weekends. On some days, she could see it on her mother's face – the exhaustion, sadness, anger, resentment – but after several years, it just became her daily life. One day, the switch flipped, and she was no longer able to take care of her kids anymore, because she just couldn’t get out of her own bed. Avery’s grandma Susan would come then and take care of them, to be there in the way nobody else had been. On other days/On good days, Rebecca would treat them to ice cream, or take them to see a movie, or just cook with them, and Avery held onto those memories as if they were the most precious thing she had.
And now, here she was, back in front of the memories of her childhood, looking at a million-dollar house as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. You can do it. You need to do it. She just needed to ring the bell, do her work, and get the hell out of here.
“Good morning miss.” A small woman opened the door thirty seconds after Avery rang, a warm and welcoming smile on her face. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Hi, um, yes. I’m the photographer, I have an appointment with Claudia Monroe this morning?”
“Of course! Follow me.” Avery walked inside behind her, where massive stairs descended on each side of the grand hall. Everything was white and black, neat, and clean—nothing in here screamed ‘home’ or ‘warmth.’ Maria, the woman told her when Avery asked for her name, led Avery to the master bedroom, where her new client was buried under a huge pile of clothes.
“Madam, Miss Clark is here.”
“Is it already nine, Maria ?!” A strand of hair emerged from behind the clothes, revealing a woman who looked like she’d already run two marathons this morning. “I apologize, I was sure I still had time before our meeting.” She got up and a huge belly pointed right at Avery. “Nice to meet you. Please call me Claudia,” she said as she held out her hand. Avery shook it, bemused by the situation and half-relieved she was not dealing with another stuck-up rich person.
Claudia was beautiful. Tall, lean, and elegant from her raven-black hair to her fingertips. Her clothes fell in clean, straight lines, with the exception of her round belly tightly secured beneath her dress. She had to be at least eight months pregnant, closer to nine if Avery had to guess. Her whole look was very rigid and stern, and would intimidate most people, but not Avery. She knew it was just a façade as soon as she saw Claudia’s face light up when she smiled back at her.
“Nice to meet you too, Claudia, and please don’t worry,” Avery said, waving her hand. “I understand the struggle.” She looked at the dresses laid out on the floor. Not an inch of hardwood was visible, and despite her own bedroom being approximately a quarter of the size of Claudia’s, she had just as many clothes. She could relate.
“Let’s move to my office,” Claudia said as she walked out of the messy bedroom.
Avery nodded and followed her into the adjacent room. The contrast was shocking. The room was cozy and warm, full of throw pillows and blankets in calming pink, gold and white tones. In the middle of the room stood a white marble desk that probably cost more than her car. Claudia waved for Avery to sit down as she rounded the desk to sit in a glamorous rose-gold chair.
“So, let’s get down to business,” Claudia said, plopping her elbows on the desk. “My due date is coming up soon, as I’m sure you can see.” She hugged her belly gently. “Lisa told me great things about your work and everybody I know is booked solid for the next month, so I thought why not go with someone new?” A small smile curved her lips. Lisa was the boutique owner Avery worked with when she needed gowns and other accessories for her photoshoots.
“I’m so happy that Lisa gave you my number,” Avery said, returning her smile. Claudia seemed nice, level-headed and not too bossy. “Why don’t you tell me what you have in mind, and I’ll guide you through my process.”
They spent the next hour hammering out every detail of the photoshoot. Color palette, locations, dress, mood, and style. They decided to set the date in two weeks, enough time for Avery to get the materials she needed, come up with a mood board and book a venue for the day. Claudia wanted to be photographed in a pumpkin field, as well as in her backyard for the more intimate shots. Nature was the central theme, and they agreed on a bohemian style for the dress that would go beautifully with the fall vibes. After finalizing the last few details, including pricing, Claudia walked Avery back to the door.
“I almost forgot to ask you!” She rolled her eyes. “This baby brain, I swear. Would you be available to do a second shoot on my due date? I’m planning on having my baby at home and I would love to have someone immortalize the moment. I mean, depending on how the first shoot turns out, of course, and if you’re comfortable with that.”
This was an incredible opportunity. The maternity photoshoot was already paying way more than Avery usually charged her clients, and now, Claudia wanted to hire her for the birth? She would actually be able to save some money to invest in her business.
