Page 40 of The Art of Loving Ellie
He leans in so close to me that our noses almost touch. “Mmm, he sounds creepy.” I laugh at our inside joke and make myself a cup, praying this shot is going to give me enough energy to make it through this day.
“Are you working in the office today?” I ask him as we slowly make our way to the back by the elevators.
New York Cityscapes resides on the first floor down a hallway to our left, and he motions to it when he speaks. “Yeah, I’ve got a ton of editing to do for some spreads we are including in the January edition for some new bars that have popped up around town. The editor wants the pictures ready to go by tomorrow, so I’ll probably be here late.”
My stomach does a flip, imagining visiting him in his office later, and all of the trouble we could get into—but I shake it off, remembering that I have to call Robert. “Try your best not to think about me.” I walk over and press the yellow up arrow for the elevator, giving him a playful wink.
His eyes travel my body from top to bottom. “Maybe I’ll think about ivy instead.” My cheeks heat, thinking of the green vines he painted on my skin just two nights ago. He smiles at his small victory, and I bite my lip. I can’t deny the chemistry between us.
When I enter the studio, Alex leans against his desk squinting his eyes at me and pursing his pink lips. I can see his patience with me is wearing thin, but he doesn’t scold me this morning. Instead, he’s unnervingly quiet, and I’m not quite sure what to make of his silence. I’m too distracted to care why he’s annoyed with me.
Floating around in my own little world, I make my way to my area in the studio and toss my things on the floor next to my desk. My phone pings, and I smile at a video Tyler just sent me of an old man in his boxers, wearing a cowboy hat, and shaking his fist in the air while he chases some kids off his lawn.
T: If this is what Texas is like, I’m scared.
“Ellie?” My smile drops when I make eye contact withAlex, who is suddenly standing right in front of my desk.
“Yes?” I put my phone down quickly, wincing as I notice the time on my computer. I’m late—again.
He crosses his arms, clearly annoyed. “Did you hear what I just said?” Eyeing my phone like it’s the devil himself, he juts one hip out and starts impatiently tapping the toe of one of his fancy black loafers.
“Um.” I rack my brain, trying to remember anything he could have said. “You said, you love me, and you’re so glad to have such a wonderful assistant?” I flutter my eyelids playfully—the picture of innocence.
Alex rubs a hand down his face in frustration. “No. I asked if you got the email I forwarded you about setting up a time to meet with Mr. Tebbetts?”
Quickly, I open my computer to my inbox and find the email he is referring to. “Yes, I see it right here—” I give the email a quick scan. “Can we meet next week, blah, blah, blah. He responds, and you say I’ll be joining you. Yes, that should be just fine, no worries.”
Still tapping his foot, he stares at me for an uncomfortable few seconds. My eyes shift around nervously and he stops, leaning over my desk. I’m distracted by the sprinkles of highlighter on his cheekbones and his Chanel Bleu cologne wafts around us, making me momentarily lightheaded. I have to lean all the way back in my chair just to make eye contact with him.
“It better be, Ellie, because the meeting istomorrow, not next week, and I need your head in this. I’m not about to let a bunch of college kids steamroll my gala with their ‘new and upcoming contemporary pieces’,” he says mockingly making air quotes with his long fingers.
I take a breath and start to answer, but he interrupts me with a pointed finger. “And I needyou,little lady, to get your head out of lala boyfriend land, and back into work with me. I can’t control what you do outside of here, but I have a professional appearance to uphold. When you’re working for me, you’re a direct reflection of me.” His face is all seriousness, and there’s little I can do but nod my head in understanding.
Never,everhas Alexandre talked to me like this. I know that he has a right to feel uncomfortable with my new lifestyle change, but there’s a part of me that wants to rebel against him fathering me. I want him to be supportive, not bothered by my happiness.
We work silently through the rest of the afternoon and Alex doesn’t give me much of a goodbye when he leaves the studio for the day. I throw my head back groaning at his attitude. I don’t understand why he's so upset with me? It’s not like I purposely forgot to check my emails.
Locking the studio up, I grab my things and head out to make my way to my apartment. My mind spins a million miles an hour, and my stomach lurches at the thought of talking to Robert. What could I possibly say to a man whom I’ve permanently pardoned from my life?
Just roll with the punches, Ellie.
If I’ve learned anything in the time I’ve spent with Tyler, it’s that sometimes you just have to take the shit life gives you, and go with it.
I close my eyes once I’m on the train toward home and try to let the rocking of the train car bring me peace, but there’s something nagging in the back of my mind that I just cannot shake. The feeling is so close to doom that my eyes shoot open from the unease it causes me. Something about this does not feel right.
∞∞∞
Ever since I returned home from Texas, I’ve been collecting lemon and lavender scented items. Not only does it make me think of Aunt Jane, but the combination of citrus and floral calms me when my mind is running a marathon.
Lighting the scented candle I recently acquired, I step into the steaming hot water beckoning me from the tub. I sink down as far as I can go, biting back a moan and covering my shoulders with the welcome heat of the water.
Calling Robert can wait. Right now, I want to release some pent up anxiousness, and just relax. Taking a deep breath in and out, I imagine myself melting into the water as if my entire body was made to dissolve completely.
Aunt Jane’s farm is the first thing my mind’s eye sees. I can see Rusty’s burnt orange coat glistening in the sun, and I notice him barking happily at something I can’t see. Eddie and Verna whinny excitedly, tossing their heads around as they welcome the stranger that has appeared.
My eyes settle on a little brown mouse who appears to be injured and begins to hobble around, trying to find a safe place to rest. I focus on the mouse, reaching down to pick him up and gasp as I see that my arms are those of a man’s and not my own.
Suddenly seeing black, a different vision comes to me altogether. The shape of a small girl begins taking form at the forefront of my mind and I try to fight it, but the vision only gets stronger. She’s frail, like she hasn’t eaten a good meal in a long time, and she’s sitting cross-legged in the middle of dark a room. A woman walks by scorning her, and she cries into the brown teddy bear she’s holding.
