Page 6 of The Art of Loving Ellie
In the dream, I was a vision of beauty dressed in an all-black leotard with a short black chiffon skirt. I took my position in the middle of a wide stage, and as I attempted to look out into the crowd, the lights were so blinding, I remember feeling like I could hardly keep my eyes open.
I’ve never danced a day in my life, but suddenly, I was spinning and twirling—flying through the air, as if I was born to do the routine my entire life. My knees hit the stage at the end of my number, and I gasped for air with my chest rising and falling rapidly. Panic clawed at my throat as I glanced left and right, trying to make out anything past the bright stage lights shining on me, but instead of hearing the roar of applause I’d worked so tirelessly for—stillness encompassed me, and complete and utter silence burned my ears.
Not sure what to make of the dream, I roll out of bed and step into the kitchen to make myself a bowl of cereal. I put on some music and shimmy my way around my space, feeling some kind of way. I can’t put my finger on it, but my nervousness in meeting the handsome stranger I ran into yesterday bubbles beneath my skin.
I wonder where he’s from and what his story is? If I had to guess, I would say he’s the rich type without a care in the world, straight-laced and working a job in the city that was handed to him on a silver platter. Laughing a little at my imaginings of him, I turn to check my reflection in my bedroom mirror. He’s probably going to be boring and not worth the effort—but then, I catch myself changing three more times before I even leave my apartment.
As I make my way to the train, I try to come up with different ways that I can fix this rookie mistake I’ve made with the event photographer. “You can do this, Ellie,” I whisper to myself on my way through the lobby. “You will not royally screw this up.”
Smoothing my fidgeting hands down the front of my blouse, I’m grateful that I put a little extra effort into my outfit this morning. No woman on this planet would deny that looking put together on the outside, somehow makes her feel like she can take on the world.
Alex isn’t in the studio when I get there, which helps calm my nerves as I look over at his space in silence. Feeling an urge that I can’t explain, I tip-toe over and sift through some of his discarded paintings, wondering how he could be disappointed in any of them.
I pick up a smaller canvas out of the pile from behind his desk and dreamily trace a finger over the half-drawn lips of what would have been a beautiful woman. I find it ironic that women are the muse of a gay man.
The paint on the canvas vibrates under my touch as if it’s trusting and begging me to finish the piece. Feeling spooked, I set the unfinished work down, and walk back to the comfort of my rigidly organized work-space to finish tying up some loose ends.
I call the venue that’s hosting the event and set up a final meeting with the curator. I also add some more touches to the itinerary for Tina, who is in charge of our event crew, and after several failed attempts at calling different photographers to book them for our big night, I’m left feeling disappointed in myself.
It's early afternoon by the time Alexandre bursts through the front door of the studio, scaring the bejesus out of me. “Ahh!” Jumping almost a foot into the air, I stare at his unusually unkempt form.
“Hey, Sugar! Sorry I wasn’t here earlier. I had a meeting with a couple of my friends who will be presenting at the gallery. You know how Leonard can carry on.” He chuckles to himself while shrugging out of his coat, and his perfect pink lips form an ‘o’ when he winks and blows me a kiss from across the room. I mentally slap myself for totally failing this wonderful human being.
Jumping up from my desk, I glance at the time and see that I’m going to be late for my coffee meeting if I don’t hurry. I gather my things up, fumbling around awkwardly, and walk backward toward the door so that I’m still facing him.
“Oh, that’s okay! No worries at all. I’m just going to go ahead and head out now for my own meeting. You know, the coffee thing with the hot guy who may also be a murderer?”
I’m hoping that he won’t notice my cheeks cramping from how hard I’m smiling, but nothing gets past Alex.
He pauses unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt and looks at me curiously. “Oh-kay?” He draws out, clearly noticing my weirdness. Before I can grab the handle to make my exit, he positions himself in front of me. “Ellie, wait.”
Alex places his hands on my shoulders gently. “Quit being a spaz and relax. You’ve got this honey, and trust me—there isn’t a woman in New York City that can compete with your beauty and goofiness.” He pinches my nose and I crinkle it back at him, unsure if that's a compliment. “Seriously, don’t let some get together scare you. I think any guy in this country should consider himself lucky just to lay his eyes on you.” He gives me a wink and slaps my butt in a dismissive gesture. “You’re the total package, so go enjoy yourself, and try not to be too weird.”
Laughing to myself I head towards the elevator. How does he always know how to lift my spirits? The presence of desperation claws at the back of my neck, urging me to fix my mistake. I can’t believe the terrible luck I’ve had today trying to find someone to photograph our gallery, but I stop my wild thoughts, not allowing myself to think about letting him down anymore; I refuse to accept that option.
It’s a bitter cold trek to Charlie’s, and I start to get butterflies as my mind runs away from me. Whiskey brown eyes and a playful smile invade my thoughts as I start to wonder what trouble I’m about to get myself into.
Chapter Three
Iopen the door to the coffee shop and take a look around the room. The cozy, warm touches in this place are the reason why I love coming here so much. Sue Anne, the owner and one of my few friends here, has an eye for vintage aesthetics, and it shows in the little homey touches that catch the eye. Pops of old newspaper clippings and black and white family photos randomly hang around the shop, and I always feel a sense of comfort and nostalgia within these walls.
The textured wood tiles that cover the ceiling are painted black, and the exposed red brick walls give the space that classic New York vibe. No two pieces of furniture are alike, but they somehow have become coherent pieces within the space. My eyes follow the warmth of various string lights that are pinned around the main area, giving the place a welcoming glow.
Seeing me come through the door, a familiar face appears, calling my name from behind the checkout counter. “Ellie!” I laugh at her excitement. Sue Anne is about my height, but heavier set, and her greatest accessory is her beautiful, bright smile. As long as I’ve known her, I’ve never seen a frown mark her aging face.
She pushes her way through a crowd of people at the front of the shop and wraps me in a big hug. It’s been too long since I’ve had a motherly figure give me such affection, and I’m desperate for a loving touch.
The line for coffee grows increasingly long in front of the checkout counter, and my eyes skim over variations of suits and ties. “Wow, you guys sure are getting busy.”
“You’re telling me. It’s all these handsome Wall Street guys!” Her New York accent is thick, drawing on the word ‘guys’, and it makes me smile. I watch her flustered green eyes give her place a once over, “Now,there’sa hottie who I’d be happy to serve.” Eyebrow arching, she points toward my favorite corner and the attractive stranger who's occupying it.
We lock eyes from across the room and he winks at me, causing me to flush. At least fifteen people are milling about between us, and yet, the room and everyone in it seem to melt away as I feel the intensity of his gaze.
Sue Anne turns her eyes back to me, “Oh dear, your cheeks are so red! Is it windy out there today? You really should wear your scarf up a little higher while you walk to prevent chapped cheeks.” Her gray, curly hair is a little wild and she wrings her hands on her stained apron, fussing over me and what she thinks is a reaction to the wind outside.
I smile and slowly focus my attention back on her, finding it hard to break eye contact with him. “You know what, you are absolutely right!” Spinning her away from the man she has no idea I’m here to see, I try to distract her. “You should probably get back to work before all these hunks overwhelm you.”
Blowing her a kiss, I receive a loud laugh in return, and she squeezes my shoulder. “Oh, Ellie! It sure is good to see you, sweetheart.”
