Page 5 of The Art of Loving Ellie
There it is.
“What do you mean a male stranger? Where, when, and how! Let me hear it.” Coming around to the front of his desk, he slides his butt back onto it, crossing one long leg over the other, anticipating the juicy details of my run-in with possibly another artist in the building.
I bite the inside of my cheek so hard it hurts, and pace the area between our desks. “Well, it started with ‘my scarf is a bad boy’, and ended with coffee at Charlie’s tomorrow at noon.”
His brows furrow in confusion. “Your scarf is a bad boy? Is this new lingo I am somehow not privy to?”
I bark out a laugh, “No! Ugh, look it’s not important. I basically form tackled the hottest man on the face of the planet and somehow, he was into it. He asked me out for coffee tomorrow. Is that normal, or should I be concerned? I’m sort of panicking over here.”
He stares blankly at me for a moment before bursting into action, his words rushing together. “Ohmygosh. What did he look like? Does he have good taste in clothing? You know it’s important for me to see my girl with someone presentable. I can’t have you running around with some ruffian off the streets.”
I laugh at his giddiness. “Well, I think he’s about a foot taller than me, so probably six feet tall. Very nice shoulders. He was wearing casual, but still businesslike attire—totally drool worthy. He smelled heavenly and I may, or may not, have groped his bicep when I crashed into him. Also, he kissed my hand.” I bite my lip, admitting the last part with pink cheeks as I wring my hands.
His loud clap echoes throughout the room. “You’re blushing! Slap my ass, and call me Madonna’s Uncle! You actually like him.”
Needing something solid underneath me, I take a seat. I can’t believe I’m so shaken by our encounter, but I’ve got to keep my excitement under control. After all, getting excited about this is going to open a doorway I have no intent on entering. “Alex. Please, I barely know him. It’s just coffee.”
He throws his hands up in surrender. “Oh yes, Sugar. Whatever you say.”
I ball up a piece of paper on my desk and chunk it at his perfect head. “Stop it. I’m going to go cure my curiosity, and probably prove that this guy is a big pervert or womanizer.” I snap my fingers and point at him. “You know what, I’ll probably be miserable the entire time and be back within an hour.”
“Mmhmm,” he dismisses, and turns away from me, not entertaining my ramblings or the doubts I’ve spoken aloud.
My voice rises defensively, “Oh, I’m serious! I already told him I’m not the dating type.”
“Isn’t there a saying,” He taps his chin in thought. “Something about curiosity and a cat?”
“Yes, curiosity killed the cat, but this is a harmless coffee…” I search my brain for any word that isn’t date, “get together.”
He arches a perfectly plucked eyebrow in my direction, “I think it should be something more like, ‘curiosity got the cat lucky’.” He grins wide, proud of himself for that one.
I narrow my eyes at him and cross my arms over my chest. “Well, that would be a really stupid saying, don’t you think?”
He laughs loudly, and his eyes crinkle around the edges in true delight.
With a smile, I wave my hand and dismiss our playful banter, pushing our focus back to work. “Okay, moving on. Let’s get to work organizing the last details of this Twilight Gallery we are putting on next Friday for the fancy folk you call friends.”
“Only if you promise that we can discuss more of your Mystery Man later? I expect a full report when you return tomorrow.”
Shaking my head at his persistence, I open my laptop to start forwarding the chain of emails I know still need to be sent. Alex picks up the phone to make a call, and I pull up my to-do list to look over a few of the finer details.
I need to call the caterer and change thehors d'oeuvres we originally had to something sans mushrooms—apparently one of the artist’s wives is allergic. Moving down my list, I see that the reservation of our rented space needs a finalized time, and I need to give Alex’s event team the nitty-gritty details and a list of things for them to put together before I get there the day of. Lastly, I’ll call the photographer who will be taking pictures of the event and the various pieces the artists will have on display, and confirm that they are good to go.
I flit through the paper cards in my Rolodex, and I’m startled to see that the photographer’s number is missing from my contact list.Wait, that can’t be right.I’m fairly certain I had it right next to the caterer’s number. Horror floods my veins as I stare at the blank number card where their contact information should be.
My heart plummets straight into my stomach.I forgot to book a photographer.
No, no, no, Ellie. I wouldn’t do something so idiotic two weeks from an event this big. Oh God, what am I going to tell Alex? My gaze nervously travels up to see him with his legs crossed on his desk, tossing a tennis ball in the air as he casually talks on the phone with someone.
I cannot believe I did this. Okay, this is fine—I can fix this. Iwillfix this. I just have to call around the busiest freaking city in America and beg someone to hear me out. I’m not above begging, I decide. In fact, I will go door to door to every studio in this city if I have to.
Giving myself a few minutes to have a good freak out, I resolve that I can’t tell Alex my mistake. He already thinks I’m losing it with my lack of creativity lately, and I don’t want him thinking I’m letting my job slip now, too. Good grief, am I?No. I love Alex, I love this job, and I’m not going to let him down.
Sitting back in my chair, I close my eyes tightly and take a deep breath, attempting to calm myself down a little bit. When I pop them back open, Alex meets my eyes from across our work-space and gives me a wink. I think about all the hoops I’m going to have to jump through to make this happen and mentally chant a prayer that Alex is right about this cat getting lucky.
∞∞∞
The next morning, my eyes lazily open to reveal the bland white ceiling of my apartment above me. I had the strangest dream, and the pressure of my weighted blanket is practically suffocating me, even as I clutch it tighter to my body for comfort.
