I’m at her mercy as she spins around and tugs me to her by my tie, thrusting the microphone in my face, and I’m forced to sing a line from the song, but I don’t know the words.
“You’re crazy,” I shout instead, causing her employees to cheer even louder.
“Dance, Eli!” Sapphire warbles at the top of her lungs and spins around, letting my tie go and swooshing it away. With her hands in the air she shakes her ass without a care in the world, a vision of complete happiness. I can’t help myself but join in, my feet already moving, and I’m dancing, her spirit infectious.
I lace my arms around her waist and pull her to me, sing the chorus, the only words I know, as the clapping, laughing, and singing continue to bellow around us.
“What the fuck are we doing?” I yell with the biggest smile on my face.
She exclaims gleefully, “Having fun, Eli.”
Fun.
I never thought that was meant for me. Now I know how wrong I was about that.
This is the most fun I’ve had in years… Nope, scratch that. Ever.
39
SAPPHIRE
“Hello?” I call as I step out of the elevator and into Eli’s penthouse and lay my bicycle against the wall. “Eli?” I look around and find no one. “Ghost? Anyone?”
Still nothing.
I bend at the waist, unbuckle the straps around my ankles of my wedge sandals and take them off, then give my toes a good wiggle, the cool air drifting between them, and I can almost hear them singing with relief.
“Is anyone home?” I try again, then move my bicycle into the closet Eli cleared out for me to store it.
I practically live here now, just like Ghost. We haven’t officially moved in, but with half my wardrobe here and the play gym Eli bought for Ghost that he loves and spends hours on, it feels like we have.
Since the staff conference a month ago, which was a huge success and earned Safire & Spark a contract to run bi-monthly motivational training, Eli and I have grown closer. I didn’t think that was possible, but we do almost everything together: cook, work out, walk, swim, meet friends for drinks, have dinner most nights, visit his dad together, and every Saturday we visit his mom at the ranch and usually stay for lunch or dinner. However, this weekend I’m finally introducing my parents to Eli as we’re taking a drive out to see them and staying at an inn only two miles away. The last place I want to stay is on a bus with my mom and dad only meters away, and I don’t think Eli will enjoy that either. I haven’t mentioned that they live close to a lake and there might be some seasonal mosquitoes still hanging around. I’ll cross that bridge when it comes to it, and I’ve already bought three cans of insect spray as a precaution.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve also been learning what all the legal terms mean and how they affect drafting the partnership agreement with Mistee.
The paperwork and due diligence were far more than Mistee or I anticipated, but with the official documents almost drafted, Eli has assured us that once the IRS and amendments to all the paperwork are made public, the partnership will finally be legally recognized. There is more to it than that; regardless, we’re close, meaning Mistee and I can begin our search for land to build our new conference facilities on. The next few months, maybe years, are going to be busy.
Closing the door of the bike closet, I run my finger along the console table in the hall, and smile to myself at the way Eli has straightened the bowl that holds his car keys with the vase of flowers I bought yesterday.
Aligning objects has become more of a habit for him than something he needs to do, he admitted to me last night, telling me he does it unconsciously, the urge no longer taking over his actions and thoughts.
I know that anything could push him the other way again, but for now, he has it managed. Even his family has noticed how much more he laughs and that he no longer works late nights. Before, his alignment nearly dominated his life; his mind was too focused on checking things to do his work.
He’s healing gradually over time with the help of his therapist, sound baths, and talking it out. I’m sure it will become a thing of his past. Even if it doesn’t, I’ll be there for him no matter what.
As I walk through Eli’s apartment toward his home gym, as I suspect he’s in there, I come to a halt when my eyes land on a new painting hanging at the end of the hall on the wall, the spotlight from above giving it the presence it deserves. It wasn’t there this morning when I left for work.
I keep walking, getting closer to the painting that looks like it’s holding space for me, waiting for me to have a private viewing, until I’m standing only a foot from it.
The familiar girl in the painting stares back at me, only this time I notice she’s wearing a smirk, like Mona Lisa’s smile, a cheeky hint of knowing we would meet again.
From the splashes of color, the delicate brush strokes, and her multicolored hair, she looks even more beautiful, more vivid, more captivating than the first time I saw her at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.
“Now You See Me.” I whisper the name of the painting that’s imprinted into my mind.
A low mumble from behind me repeats the words from that day. “She looks like you.”
“That’s only because she has multicolored hair,” I reply, hoping that’s what I said from that day, too. It feels like a lifetime has passed since then. Eli and I have come so far.