Page 9 of The Art of Loving Ellie
“You’re a photographer!” I practically shout at him.
I’m so unbelievably excited about this that I jump out of my chair, crowding his space by leaning over him. “So, you take photographs?”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise at my sudden burst of energy. “Umm… well yes, that’s what a photographer does, Ellie.”
I can tell he’s amused, but I begin pacing back and forth in the small space in front of him. “I needyour help.” Turning, I lock eyes with him and confess. “I royally screwed up and forgot to book a photographer for a big event Alex and I are putting together for next Friday. I’m not sure how, but it completely slipped my mind. Alex is the most amazing person I know, and this is really important to him. I can’t let this fall through the cracks.” I feel as though I’m rambling, but I can’t stop. “Please, name your price and it’s yours. I’ll pay you generously for the short notice.”
The silence between us is deafening as he rubs his chin, staring at me curiously. He slowly stands up from his chair, unfurling himself to his full six feet, and I’m forced to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “Let me take you on a date.” He’s so close, I can feel the heat coming off of his chest, and I notice the closely shaved stubble along his jaw.
Reeling from our sudden closeness I stutter, “W—what?” I’m already shaking my head, attempting to explain that I’m not the kind of girl he wants to date.
“Just give me one night of debauchery in the big city.” This is the second time he has bargained for more time with me, and I can’t understand whynoisn’t in my vocabulary.
“Debauchery?” I laugh as I repeat the word back to him.
He makes a move like he wants to touch me, but shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans instead. I notice the way he’s looking at me. I’m a puzzle he can’t quite figure out, and for the life of me, I don’t understand why he wants to try so badly. “When was the last time you have been out on the town, carefree and having a good time?”
Come to think of it, never. Not once since I’ve moved here have I ever thought about going out, or seeing the city.
“Besides,” he shrugs. “You need to book someone fast, and I can promise you, you won’t find anyone this short of notice.”
Ugh, He’s right. “Fine,” I finally tell him. This is a terrible idea, but I can’t help but smile at his boyish excitement.
Grinning ear to ear he pulls me in for a hug, and I’m so stunned by the contact that it takes me a second to hug him back. I can hear his heart beating against my cheek, and I close my eyes, listening as the sound soothes me.
We stand in the corner of my favorite coffee shop, holding each other a little longer than either of us are willing to admit, and I breathe in his earthy amber scent. I curse myself for getting excited at the prospect of seeing him again, even though there’s something about him that eases me. Getting attached to someone right now doesnotfit in my current life plan.
Pulling back slightly, his face is mere inches from mine when he tells me his plan. “This Saturday, I’ll make all the arrangements; you won’t have to do anything but show up and be willing to explore a little.”
Blushing, I nod my head in agreement. “We’ll need to touch base about what Alex and I need from you for the event, too.”
Tyler grabs a napkin and we exchange emails and phone numbers. “Email me the details, and I will make it happen.”
“Okay.” Trying to be professional, I offer him my hand to shake. Why do I feel like I’ve just made a deal with the devil?
I drop a few dollar bills into the tip jar on the bar before we leave, and the weight of disappointment begins to stir in my chest—I guess I’m not as ready to leave as I thought I would be. We stand together on the sidewalk outside of Charlie’s with our hands buried in the pockets of our coats as we say goodbye.
“I’ll see you Saturday?” I know he’s speaking to me, but my mind is reeling with the fact that I’ve just said yes to a real date, which is against every rule I’ve had to make to protect myself.
“I’ll see you then.” I smile shyly, turning away with butterflies colliding in my belly.
I’m trying to make sense of the way I’m feeling. It’s something like being on one of those rides at the water park, where I stand in a tube, and at any moment the bottom will fall out, sending me flying down a giant slide and crashing into the water—choking and unable to catch my breath. The ride is always fun, but getting through it is terrifying.
The greatest thing that could have possibly come from this is now I have a photographer. I do a little happy dance as I work my way back towards the studio, and think to myself that Alex might like Tyler, too.
Unwlecome thoughts assault me suddenly as I enter through the glass doors of Marpines. What kind of guy wants to hang out with a reject artist with a closet full of skeletons, and what could I possibly offer him that he wouldn’t be able to find in another woman?
I bypass Margaux in the lobby and head up to the fifth floor to tell Alex about Tyler, but something is niggling in the back of my brain, sending warning signals that I may have just added more problems to my life than I realize.
Alex pops the bottle of sparkling grape juice we have had hidden in his desk for a special occasion, which helps to lift my mood. He toasts to me, telling me he’s proud that I put myself out there, and I fill him in on the juicy details he so desperately wants.
We giggle like a couple of schoolgirls over the game Tyler and I played, but all too soon, I’m lost in thought as I silently sip my grape juice. I smile around the edge of my glass; it does feel good to let loose a little. I just hope my comfort zone doesn’t stray too far from reach.
∞∞∞
When I wake up Saturday morning, I feel surprisingly refreshed, and my anxiety is taking a back seat to my excitement for once. I walk to my kitchen and make myself a fresh cup of coffee, and scramble some eggs while I make an appointment to get my nails done later in the afternoon. Pampering myself isn’t a luxury I’m used to, but I want to treat myself. After all, I did score a photographer with just days to spare.
It’s no secret that since moving here, I’ve been living like a hermit. I’m not even sure I liked who I was before moving to the city, and upon recent reflection, I’ve seen that not much has changed. My parents' neglect forced the young and vulnerable version of me to grow up fast. When I was two years shy of graduating from high school, I had no idea how I was going to provide for myself. Robert was always quick to spend any money he acquired, so it became apparent that he wouldn’t be supporting me much longer.
