Page 58 of The Art of Loving Ellie
I wanted to apologize for how I acted, and that I didn’t mean any of the things I said to him. I wanted to tell him that grief is ugly and scary, but that I don’t want to live my current life, or any life for that matter, without him. He once told me that he doesn’t leave when the going gets tough, and I want to prove to him that I don’t either.
Unfortunately for me, my initial text reaching out to him has remained unanswered, and I fear I may have destroyed any hope of a relationship between us.
“Thank you,” I tell the barista after finally making it through the line. A worry line forms between my brows when I glance over to see a couple snuggled up in the corner that Tyler and I once occupied. I take my phone out of my pocket again, opening our text thread to see that my message is still unread and unanswered. I frown, hoping that I can catch him at the office and ask him for forgiveness there.
Marpines is bustling with people in the lobby as everyone prepares their last minute projects and orders before the holiday. I see a few managers from different floors attempting to calm down customers, and a few photographers leave and enter the hallway leading to Cityscapes’ office space—none of which are Tyler.
I walk over to the receptionist. “Hey Margaux, have you seen Tyler anywhere?” The message light on her desk phone blares red with missed calls that she’s clearly ignoring, and she looks entirely annoyed by my presence.
“Who?” She pops a loud bubble with her gum and continues smacking.
I tap my fingers on her see-through glass desk impatiently, and I’m doing everything in my power to avoid rolling my eyes at her. “Tyler, the photographer who works for Cityscapes?”
She stares at me blankly, popping another bubble. “The hot guy you were making out with a couple of weeks ago?”
Grinding my teeth, I grit out, “Yes. That hot guy.”
She leans back in her chair with a haughty look on her face, relishing watching me squirm as I wait for her reply. “He quit.”
I blink at her, not quite registering her words, and I so badly want to slap the smug look off her face. “He quit?” I echo in disbelief.
She smirks, her red lipstick giving her a Cruella Deville vibe. “Yup. I saw him storm out of here a couple of days ago, mumbling to himself that he deserved better than this place. Haven’t seen him back since.”
Something about her statement doesn’t add up. Why would Tyler just up and quit a highly sought after photography gig? One that he told me was one of few available when he took the position initially? My heart sinks at the news Margaux gives me. He won’t answer my text, and now he’s quit his job. My blood runs cold. Maybe it truly is too late to save us.
I make my way up the elevator and into our studio to find Alex’s space a complete wreck. Tina is standing around looking positively lost, and Alex’s gaze is pleading for me to help him fix his mess. I laugh a little, and force a lid on my feelings about the mystery surrounding Tyler—I can deal with that later. Right now, Alexandre needs me, and fixing this mess is exactly what I plan to do.
“Okay,” I say, stripping off my sweater and tying it around my waist so that I’m left in a light cami. I walk over to his desk and look at the scrambled checklist one of them has haphazardly pieced together. I read it over and mentally start making a list of my own. “Let’s get all this paperwork cleared out, tackle some emails and phone calls, and start delegating décor and food to the event crew.” They both eagerly nod their heads at my authoritative tone.
“Alex, you call Mr. Tebbetts and tell him you need him to bring each piece you decided to have in the gallery the night before the gala. That way, we can have the morning to set everything up, and we won’t have the added stress of moving things during the busy daytime. Arrange an exchange with Will and Ernesto from the event team to be there when he drops the pieces off.”
Directing my attention to Tina I give her orders as well. “Call and make sure the alcohol permit for the gallery is still operational, email the designated music list to the violinist that’s playing, and let’s get the event programs printed, folded, and ready to go.” As they rush around getting to work, I can’t help but smile to myself. It feels so good to be back.
Breaking into a steady and easy work rhythm, we start to tie our loose ends together neatly. Christmas Eve is in just a couple of days, so we put in some extra hours fine combing every single detail for the gala. By the time we are finished for the day, it’s dark out, and the three of us collapse on the floor completely exhausted.
“We did it. Everything should be perfectly in order and ready to go,” Tina huffs as she lays her entire body out flat on the studio floor. I follow suit, laughing at how silly we look with our disheveled hair and running makeup.
We lay there for a few moments before Alex tells us that we need to get home to get some rest. “Great job today, ladies.” He stands and brushes his pants off, then turns to help us to our feet.
Tina and I smile up at him, and he directs his attention to me. “Ellie, I want you to meet me at Elaine’s tomorrow at noon.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Elaine’s is one of the more ritzy dress boutiques around the city. “You know I have no business there. I couldn’t afford their toilet water,” I laugh under my breath.
“It’s my treat.” He’s smiling at me warmly, but I can only nod in shock that he would offer to pay for my dress for our event. I give him a quick hug, and he waits for us to get our things together so we can lock up for the night.
Our laughter fills the near empty building on our way out, but when I get off of the elevator, I can’t help my gaze as it travels over to the illuminated hallway where Tyler’s office resides—well, where it used to reside.
I’ve got to think of some way to get him to speak to me, or to at least forgive me for the way I treated him. Suddenly, an idea strikes its way through my brain like lightning, and I plant my feet giving myself a second to think it through. Alexandre and Tina turn back to look at me questioningly.
“Are you okay, Ellie?” Tina inquires.
I feel a burst of energy buzzing through my body as the first genuine smile I’ve had in weeks spreads across my lips. “Yes, I’m perfect.”
They fall back, watching me sprint my way toward the train to get home, and I’m smiling like a fool. If Tyler doesn’t want to hear me out, that’s fine—I think I have another way of getting him to listen.
∞∞∞
Elaine’s is one of the more bougie boutiques around NYC. The front windows boast gorgeous full-length gowns that hang beautifully off each mannequin, and when I walk through the front door of the shop, I see Alex front and center standing underneath a beautiful glass chandelier. The entire place is void of people, and I look around in awe.
