“I’m not signing up for dance therapy.”
“Well, you should; it might help to reduce your stress levels and increase your focus.”
“I’m focused.” And a little offended that she called me uptight.
“Again, I will argue that you are, in fact, not focused.”
“How so?”
She runs her fingers through the ends of her hair, which are soft blue today. Last week they were lavender. I wonder what color it will be next week? I like that she keeps me guessing.
No, you don’t. Stop giving her hair color a second thought.
“Well, Elijah.” She uses my Sunday name, and now I realize she’s serious. “Why don’t we start with how many nights you work late, or how about the fact you can’t even remember signing off the proposal I sent over? And it’s more than a little worrisome how often I catch you staring at me like you’re sleepwalking.”
“I’m not sleeping standing up.”
“Well, it looks like you are. You look like a zombie half the time.” She shakes her head as if she’s annoyed with me. “Look, I know you don’t like me, and I know what you think I do is beneath you and too spiritual for the law firm your father spent years building, yadda, yadda, yadda.” She makes hand puppets with her fingers to make them look like they are yapping. “I’ve heard that line so many times, I’ve even dreamed about you yelling it at me. Seriously, Elijah, do you not care about re-energizing your staff? Trying something new, or just opening yourself up to the possibility that what I do works?” She scrapes her hands through her long, tousled hair with frustrated hands, sweeping it off her face, making her look even more captivating.
She is utterly radiant, with cheeks that seem freshly kissed by the sun during her walk by the ocean this morning, her eyes sparkle with fire and passion, while the light twinkles off her layered gold necklaces, each with its own charm, resting against her collarbone. She smells like a field of lavender.
She’s not even trying to be sexy or beautiful; she just is.
Continuing, she adds, “And I know I wasn’t your first choice, Elijah, but your human resources manager picked me while you and your brothers were on vacation, and we’re running out of time. So either you let me do my job, or we cancel now and go our separate ways. Good luck with that, though, as I know every corporate event company in the area is fully booked this year. So, what will it be, Elijah?”
“You dreamed about me?” My question tumbles out of my mouth.
Her brows dip low, her head moving from side to side in confusion. “What?”
“You said,I’ve even dreamed about you yelling it at me.Is that true?” Hope blooms in my chest.
“About the conference and your father’s legacy, yes.” Pink flushes her chest, crawling up the skin of her neck.
Flustered doesn’t suit her. Relaxed and calm is usually her normal state.
She lifts her bag, which looks like it was bought in Marrakech and has seen more music festivals than Coldplay, off the carpeted floor and slings it over her shoulder, the fringes swaying this way and that. “I can’t believe that after everything I said, you took that little bit away from this conversation. Do you know what, Elijah? I’m tired of trying to impress you, tired of having to justify every decision I make. I was brought in to help you have the best staff conference you’ve ever had.” She wraps air quotes around the words I said the first time we met. “But nothing I do is good enough for you, so why don’t we call it quits right here? Forget your staff conference this year, and next year, let someone else do it. I don’t even want the cancellation fee that’s stated in the contract because I give up. I quit. Sue me, whatever. I don’t care.” She raises her hands in the air in defeat. “I don’t want to work with someone who is so set in his ways that he selfishly prevents his staff from having one of the best corporate retreats they will ever have. But that’s on you, not me.” She pivots on the balls of her feet and storms toward the exit.
Shit. My brothers will kill me if I blow this.
I immediately chase after her. “I don’t hate you,” I call out to her just as her hand touches the door. If only she knew how much I like her and how much I can’t stop thinking about her. I even found myself daydreaming in court the other day, very unlike me and entirely unprofessional.
“It sure feels like you hate me.” When she looks back at me from over her shoulder, there’s so much hurt written all over her face.
“I don’t, I promise. I’m sorry.” I hate that I made her think I do.
She nods as if accepting my reply, but her face remains neutral, telling me she doesn’t quite believe me.
“Please don’t quit.” What will I do if I don’t get to see her every week? “You have my word that from now on I won’t interfere with any of your plans.”
She lowers her hand from the door as she spins around to face me again. “You have to trust me.”
“I do,” I lie. Fuck knows what trust falls have to do with motivating staff, but if our HR manager hired Sapphire, then I guess I have to put some trust in her myself.
“We need rules,” she states.
“Okay.”
“You’ve to read every email and piece of paperwork I send you.”