Page 49 of New Growth
“Sure.”
Passion.
Theweekendcamefasterthan I expected.
Saturday evening, I stood outside an industrial-looking building downtown, the faded sign above the door readingStudio Collective. It was a far cry from the sleek salon where I spent most of my time, but there was something about the peeling paint, the muffled bass of music inside, and the low hum of conversation spilling from the entrance that felt oddly comforting.
I adjusted my shirt, tugging at the hem as I debated whether I should just turn around and leave.
Was it smart to attend a meeting with a man who had made it painfully clear he wanted me?
No. Absolutely not.
And yet, here I was, standing on the cracked pavement, staring at the door like it might hold some kind of answer.
I wasn’t even sure why I had agreed to this. A room full of strangers? No, thanks.
But Elliot—the other Elliot—had texted me earlier with an enthusiastic, “Can’t wait to see you there!” and against my better judgment, I had shown up. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was boredom. Or maybe it was the fact that a small part of me wanted to see where this led.
There was so much to consider with El. The biggest thing being our twelve-year age gap. Then there was the fact that he had been married.Hadbeing the keyword. But why did they divorce?
Was he difficult? Controlling? Crazy?
The way he carried himself—so intense, so aware of everything—made me wonder if he’d been the problem or if someone had done a number on him. We didn’t get to talk about her much, and when we did, it was brief.
My phone buzzed in my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts. I glanced down at the screen.Ma.I sighed before opening the text.
Ma:Just booked my flight! I’ll be there in two months!
I blinked.
Me:What?
Ma:I know you’re busy, but I want to see you. It’s been too long. We’ll have a nice visit, just us girls. You can even take me to that fancy salon of yours.
My stomach twisted. It had been too long, but that wasn’t by accident. I wasn’t sure how I felt about her coming yet.
Me:Ma, you should’ve asked me first instead of springing this on me.
Ma:Elliot. I’m your mother. I don’t need permission to see my own damn child.
Me:I’m not saying you need permission, Ma. Of course, I’d love to have you, but a heads-up would’ve been nice. I have things to consider. I have a roommate. I have clients.
Ma: Well. You got two months to figure it out.
I sighed in defeat. I hesitated, then added:
Me: Okay. Let me know the details. Looking forward to it.
The ending was a lie, but a small one. A much-needed one, as the woman had an unnatural ability to make a difficult day worse. That being said, I was thankful for the foresight I had to top up my flask before leaving the house. With a quick swig, I’d be right as rain.
Maybe two.
Shoving it back into my coat pocket, I took a breath and pushed open the door. The moment I stepped inside, the scent of paint, coffee, and something vaguely metallic hit me. The space was alive with movement as people clustered in corners, canvases propped against walls, voices overlapping.
I barely had a chance to take it all in before I spotted other Elliot weaving through the crowd toward me. His face lit up the moment he saw me.
“You made it! I was starting to think you’d leave me hanging.”
