Page 45 of Things I Overshared
“That’s where we’re headed for lunch, I hope that’s okay.”
“Okay? That place is gorgeous! I always tell myself I need to go, but you know how it is. Never go sightsee in your own city, right?”
“Totally. New York is the same.” I turn to Emerson. “Have you been?”
“I’ve not, no.”
“Oh, you’ll love it, it’s absolutely stunning.” Julie gushes.
I knew there was a chance she’d been, or even that she went regularly, but I also knew she’d never experienced what I set up for us. The garden has a restaurant and bar, but I paid an obscene amount—remember, biggest European account, Mr. CFO, calm your balls—to have a dining table set up in a corner of the garden itself. Not only will we be at a private table surrounded by indoor jungle, but we’ll be floating in a far corner of the glass building, with nothing but windowpane between us and the sweeping view. I’m giddy as we pull up to the building.
As we bundle into the small elevator, I look over at Emerson, hoping to see some signs of pride or approval at my amazing plan. He looks grumpier than usual. As we step out into the garden, my breath leaves me. It’s incredible. Glass, light, and green green green everywhere. It’s a plant mom’s dream. Julie and I are beaming, and Emerson looks a bit sick.
“Canton,” I say to a hostess at a podium by the restaurant.
“Oh, yes, we’ve been waiting! Wicked setup. Can’t believe we haven’t done it before.” She is squealing in delight. “Right this way!” Julie looks intrigued, and I am about to burst at the seams. Emerson is turning a shade of green that rivals the bright, almost neon leaves of a plant by the hostess stand.
As we make our way slowly through the garden paths to the corner, Julie oohs and aahs, commenting on new plants and wondering how they manage to keep some of the peskier varieties alive. Our special corner comes into view, and Julie gasps. I break into a huge smile and make some involuntary squeak noise. I look back to Emerson, who’s taking his precious time joining us, and notice he is sweating badly. Like make-everyone-around-you-uncomfortable levels of sweat.
“Go ahead. Emerson and I just need to talk to the staff real quick!” I say to Julie and turn quickly to pull Emerson aside before Julie sees the full scope of whatever exactly is happening on his face.
I whisper-yell, “What’s going on! Headache? Do you need to run to the little boy’s room? Because now is not the best time to go full Hulk—the color, not the muscles . . . well, actually the muscles too. I guess I can indeed verify that! Again, I’m going with personal trainer— I mean, wait! Focus! This is our biggest account, you know that!” I tug him over toward an exterior wall out of the walkway.
“Damn it,” he grumbles as he reaches the window, then he turns in my direction and all two hundred–something pounds of beautiful, stacked hard muscle starts to fall over.
Onto me.
“Huuuffff! Emerson! I can’t!” I grunt out, trying to catch him, wobbling on my stilettos. He shifts up and steadies himself with one hand on each of my shoulders. I look at his face and then back at the window behind him. “Holy crap balls, it’s heights. You’re afraid of heights?!”
“Just a tad,” he grunts out, still using me as a support. “It’s nothing.”
“Emerson Clark,” I grit through my teeth as I move one foot back to steady us. “You are as green as that palm right there! I can’t believe this! This! This is why I asked you multiple times to check our itinerary! I wouldn’t have planned a lunch floating in the sky if I’d known! Uggghhhh!”
“But a bloody smart idea—you said she loves plants,” he slurs.
“Shh! You can’t go to the table like that. Go back to the hotel, and I’ll tell her you’re ill.”
“No, I can—”
“You can’t, you really,reallycan’t. I’m getting ill just looking at you looking ill. We’re about to have that swapping dry-heave-sounds-back-and-forth situation any second. Go.” I push him away from the wall and back toward the walkway.
“I’m sorry,” he rasps as he steps away. I roll my eyes.This is why we write out detailed itineraries! Idiot!
I make my way back to Julie and explain Emerson’s illness that’s so sudden it must be food poisoning, because what else could it be, right? She’s so giddy she barely registers his absence. We then have an award-winning lunch with an award-winning view and with what I dare say was some award-winning plant-based conversation.
I asked a few questions here and there with my basic knowledge of pretty succulents and trendy fiddle-leaf figs, and the woman babbled on for ages. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered that this must be what Skye feels like when she asks me a simple question and then doesn’t get a word in with me for twenty minutes. It feels very weird to be on the other side of this kind of conversation. I don’t hate it. And I love that Julie is positively glowing. By the time we’re finished with our late lunch, dessert, and cocktails, it’s early evening. We hug, and she thanks me for a lovely day, then I make my way to Charlie at the curb.
When I enter the hotel suite, feeling triumphant, a deflated CFO is waiting for me on the couch. He stands and joins me in the entry area. He’s still in his amazing suit, but his vest is open and his tie is pulled loose. His hair is mussed above his exhausted yet still-almost-perfect face.
“Miss Canton, I’m so sorry.” He looks so distraught, I feel the need to reach out and touch him, to push his tendril of hair off his forehead, but I refrain, hearing Susan’s voice in my head.
“It’s fine. In fact, today was more than fine, don’t you think?” I cross to the kitchen, and he follows. “I mean, I get it now. You really are great with your spreadsheets—even I was getting excited about column adjustments and three percent changes, whew! And then with me and the garden lunch and the plant talk bringing it home?Fuhgeddaboudit!”I grab a water from the fridge.
“Still, you’re right, about the itinerary. I should’ve said.” He reluctantly accepts a water bottle from my hand.
“Abso-freakin-lutely I’m right. Also, what the hell? You work in a skyscraper.”
He swallows a big gulp from his bottle. “I close the east shades. It’s the vast, sweeping views that affect me.”
