Chapter 7 #2
“So, should we have coffee again sometime?” Her expectant voice is as sweet as sugar, laced with something that sounds like hope.
Is that what she wants? I didn’t think she liked me at all. But she did agree to a coffee, so that’s something; I’ll hold on to that for now.
Straight-faced, I reply, “Well, we are going to be working together.” As much as I want to talk to her via email, there’s a huge part of me that would prefer to see her every day.
I like not knowing what she’s going to do or say next.
It might seem strange, but I now actually look forward to whatever comes out of her mouth; it always sparks something unexpected in me and never fails to make me pause and reflect.
As she lightly touches her rainbow-streaked hair with ends that look like they’ve been freshly dipped in soft pink today, my fingers are practically trembling as I imagine running my hands through her hair to feel how soft it is, resisting the urge to ask her how often she dyes it.
What color will it be the next time I see her?
I could look at her face all day and never get tired of it. I’m enjoying every second of her company.
Positively buoyant, she’s almost teasing me when she points out, “You know, it’s incredible how I own my own business, and yet I find myself working under you.”
I’d like to know what she feels like under me.
Not now, Eli.
Not ever.
“I don’t mean to make you feel like you’re not your own boss. I’m sorry.” I am. “I just find it difficult to let someone else take control of things at work.” Everything, actually.
Leaning in, she looks me dead in the eye, and I expect her to say something radical and life-changing, possibly even scathing about me and my methods. Instead, she says, “Let’s not talk about work, Eli. Tell me about yourself.”
I hate talking about myself and find therapy difficult at times. It’s too personal. Too deep. Too raw. Too much of everything and too many feelings I’m not a big fan of facing. “There’s not much to tell.”
She scoffs. “That can’t be true. For starters, you collect chess sets and know how to play since you offered to teach me; what else?” She lifts her mug, takes a sip, and smacks her lips together in satisfaction.
When I take too long to reply, she fills in the awkward silence. “Okay, I’ll go first. Every morning, before sunrise, I cycle to the beach followed by swimming in the ocean. Naked. It’s freeing and makes me feel alive and at one with nature.”
My mouth goes dry as I imagine her swimming like a real-life mermaid in the ocean, instantly feeling several degrees hotter when it’s already blazing hot today.
Also, sharks. Is she crazy?
She’s oblivious to my flustered state, adding another fact about herself. “I have a cat, he’s white, super fluffy, and can be very naughty when I don’t give him enough attention.”
I’m grateful she switched direction.
“What’s his name?” I’m genuinely interested.
“Ghost.”
“That’s a good name.” This small talk stuff isn’t as bad as I thought, and I offer something about myself: “I play tennis with my three brothers every Saturday morning.” It’s a bit blunt but it’s a start.
Her brows lift in surprise at my sudden U-turn to share. “Are you any good?”
“My eldest brother, Nathan, was good enough to be a pro.”
“But he chose law instead. Was that because your dad wanted you all to follow in his footsteps?” She peers over the lip of her mug, taking another long sip of her matcha latte.
“My father never forced any of us into law; it’s what we all wanted to do, and Nathan’s love for law overtook his love for tennis.
It’s more of a hobby for him now, for all of us.
” I still think he wishes he had pursued that career because he’s mentioned it a few times, but like he says, we can’t live in the past or the what-ifs.
“I’m not into fast-paced sport. I’m more of a yoga girl.” She takes a bite of her muffin and moans with satisfaction.
Rightly or wrongly, I commit her moan to memory, secretly imagining what it would sound like with my name added to the end of it.
Deaf to my silent thoughts, she adds, “I trained to be a yogi years ago, but I haven’t taught for a while.”
Now I’m imagining what she’d look like in a pair of yoga pants, contorting her body into shapes I’m much too stiff to do myself.
“Nathan tried goat yoga once.” It was the funniest thing Arianna made him do. “Although he wasn’t too impressed when the goat shit all over his back while doing something called a cat-cow pose.”
“Oh dear.” Sapphire covers her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh, setting her mug on the table.
“I would have paid good money to see it for myself.”
“Is it wrong of me to want to try goat yoga now?” she asks. “I think it would be fun. You’ll need to find out where he did it.” She wipes a small crumb away from the corner of her mouth.
I stare at her in disbelief. She’s being serious. “I couldn’t think of anything worse than doing goat yoga.”
“Oh, I think I could.”
“Yeah?”
“Boomwhackers. It brought you out in a cold sweat at dinner the other night.”
Her comment catches me off guard, and something bubbles in my throat and before I can contain it, I throw my head back laughing. It’s the first time I’ve laughed this hard in ages. It feels good. Great. I like that she pays attention and sees in me what others often miss.
Sapphire joins in, and as our laughter fades, we stare at each other in silence, sipping our drinks, eating our muffins, daring each other to look away, until we’ve finished.
There’s something between us. Something more than a spark.
It’s not just chemistry or chance; it’s something more profound, almost palpable, and unmistakable, like I could reach out and touch it.
I’ve never felt anything like this with any woman before.
Whatever this is… it feels real. Natural. Confusing.
“Sapphire?” A male voice breaks our stare-off.
She looks up toward the voice, shading her eyes from the blazing sun. “Kai?” Her voice is tinged with confusion as she calls his name.
“The one and only. Surprise!” The stranger holds his arms out to the sides as if expecting Sapphire to hug him, his smile goofy and expectant.
Remaining seated, Sapphire lays her arms on the table, closing herself off, which I find weird, because she’s usually so friendly. “How have you been, Kai?”
“Awesome, dude.”
He called her dude. Who the hell is this chump?
“I’m just back from Australia. It was killer.” He throws her a shaka, thumb and pinky extended, middle fingers tucked, that easy “awesome” gesture surfers make look effortless.
His creased T-shirt, long hair, and deep tan make him look more like he needs a good wash than he’s healthy. Hell knows when he last washed his hair. It’s matted beyond recognition, sticking out in every direction. And is that sand in his hair? Did he sleep on the beach last night?
I don’t know him, but I already hate him. I don’t really, but I want to.
Clearing my throat, I shift in my seat.
“Oh, sorry, excuse my manners. This is Eli.” Sapphire introduces us.
“Hey, man, nice to meet you. I’m Kai. Sapphire’s boyfriend.” He offers me his hand in greeting, grinning from ear to ear.
It might be rude of me, but I can’t accept it because his words hit me like a ton of bricks to the gut, leaving me stunned.
Boyfriend? Fuck, I shouldn’t be here having coffee with her alone.
I never thought to ask her if she was dating. How could she not be, given the way she looks?
Sapphire’s brow wrinkles with… uncertainty, worry, confusion? I can’t tell, as discomfort spreads through my chest, my jaw tightening, my gaze flicking across the street, then back to Sapphire.
“I think I should get going,” I say, keeping my voice steady and measured, disguising the sudden irritation and hurt I feel that she has a boyfriend. Not that I should care, but I do. And I hate it. I didn’t sign up for this. Not her, not anything.
I slowly rise from my chair, the legs of it scraping against the ground, my posture straight, every movement controlled as I lift my cell phone from the table.
Offering her a slight nod that says I’m leaving, she returns an almost unremarkable smile, as if Kai has stolen all her energy and zest for life.
I get the impression he doesn’t make her very happy, when that’s all she’s been since I met her.
Taking a deep breath, I turn and walk away, and I don’t look back, my head held high.
It was crazy of me to think she would ever be interested in someone like me. Our energies don’t just clash; they’d never be able to survive breathing the same air together.
Someone as beautiful, effortless, and bright as her wouldn’t look twice at someone as tense and buttoned up as the person I have become.
That’s why I intentionally haven’t let anyone get too close to me lately. I put myself in the off-limits zone for a reason. Until I’m healthy again, mentally, then and only then will I allow myself to date again.
When will that be?
It’s been over a year and still therapy isn’t working as fast as I would like.
One day I’ll be ready.
I hope.