Page 29 of The Art of Loving Ellie
Practically breaking the door down in excitement, I blurt out, “Alex!—”, but my feet freeze where I stand, knowing immediately that something isn’t quite right. “What’s wrong?”
Turning to look at me, he gives me a tight smile. “Hey, Ellie.” He appears worn out, and tired, with deep circles under his eyes and no gel in his usually perfectly styled hair. His body language is telling me he’s irritated, and I look at the clock on the wall noticing I’m thirty minutes late.
“Is everything okay?” Walking over to him, I place my hand on his shoulder and I lean over to see what he's staring at on his desk. I can’t exactly tell what it is, but I can make out some red lettering reading,URGENT.
He sighs deep and long before answering me with clipped sentences. “I’ve just been a little overwhelmed. Things are piling up on me quickly.”
A frown quickly etches its way onto my face. How selfish can I possibly be? I’ve been stuck in my own little world, so worried about working on myself, all while Alex was struggling to stay on top of things around here. From the current disastrous state of the studio space, it looks as if he’s had no help.
I begin gathering the papers off his desk so I can sort through them and attempt to make some sense of the disarray. I shake my head. “I’m so sorry, Alex. I never should have left you.” The cheerfulness I was overflowing with earlier starts to escape my body, like a toy ball slowly deflating after suffering a pinhole injury.
I’m choking back the urge to cry as I sit at my desk with his mess of paperwork. After a few moments of silence, guilt begins placing worry lines over his perfectly contoured face, and he softens a little as he turns toward me.
His tall frame crowds my space when he comes over to me, demanding that I stand up for a hug. “Oh, Ellie.I’msorry. It would seem that I’m a little less capable of handling my own life than I thought, and not having you here to help me has certainly made me realize that.”
I fiddle with a pencil on my desk, uncomfortable with this weirdness between us. “I never want to make you feel guilty for taking some time to yourself.” He turns to grab a chair and pulls it up close to my desk. “Before we get to work, please—tell me all about your trip. I want to hear about it.” He smiles at me tenderly, lifting my spirits some.
Getting comfortable, I start by telling him all about my aunt’s home, and how he would absolutelydieto see the updates she’s done. I go on about the lavish breakfasts and her beautiful horses, and I even tell him the heartbreaking story she told me about her ex-lover—adding in a few funny stories about her new one. We laugh over Rusty’s antics and his lazy farm dog life, and I tell him how badly I missed Aunt Jane and having a piece of my heart so close to me.
He comments on my hair, “I noticed you brought back a souvenir?” Grabbing one of the locks, he gives it a gentle tug.
My face heats, and for a fleeting moment, I’m scared that he may not approve. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” His blue eyes hold a sense of pride that gives me an immense amount of confidence.
I pause a moment. “I received an interesting email from Tyler while I was gone.”
He tosses his arms up and back down, creating a loud slapping noise against his thighs. “That boy can’t keep a secret. I wanted to surprise you with the printed version, but tell me, what did you think?”
I remember the pictures in the article, and how beautiful Tyler made me feel that night. “The entire spread is so perfect! I just couldn’t help but notice…” I trail off with a blush, not sure what to make of Tyler’s images of me.
“That someone is clearly obsessed with you? The janitor was practically mopping up his drool all night!” He snaps his fingers. “That boy would follow you straight off a cliff if you asked him to.”
Entertaining his ridiculousness, I laugh, “It does seem that he may have some strong feelings for me.” No sense in denying what’s going on between us. The real question is, how serious is it?
“And that makes you feel?” He sits back in his chair, crossing his arms as he patiently waits for my response.
“I think I realized something back home in Texas.” I lean across my desk, pressing my thumb to my lips as I mull over my thoughts. “It’s time that I started taking a few risks.”
His eyebrows shoot up at such a bold declaration from me. “Well, well. Looks like somebody has stumbled into some newfound confidence.” My earlier blush continues to spread at his compliment.
“Is it safe to assume you’ll be with him for Thanksgiving?” I nod, and he pats my leg reassuringly.
“I’ll be out of office for the rest of the week, so let’s try and put some dents into this nightmare I’ve created for myself.” With a parting wink, he stands to go over to his desk, and I dive straight into filing appointments and missed events away.
Today is one of the longest and most grueling workdays I’ve had working in our studio. Somehow, in almost two weeks, Alex has managed to miss two super important meetings with an art director at a local university.
Alex rents space for his gallery in one of the buildings in lower Manhattan, and he sometimes holds events there—like the Christmas Eve Gala he wants to put on this year. Mr. Tebbetts, the art director, is wanting to add some of his student’s pieces to the event which means major PR for Alex, and a chance for the students to get their names out there.
“I’m confused—how could this have gone unseen?” I’m waving the printed email from Mr. Tebbetts in front of him.
He grabs the paper out of my hand scanning it and curses, “Shit.”
“Indeed. We could use the traffic, and this is a great opportunity for you to push your new additions to the gallery.” He stops reading over the printed email to give me a blank look.
“What?” I glance around the room, turning my gaze back him curiously.
He rolls up the piece of paper and uses it to point at me. “My new additions, as in—you?”
