Chapter 12
ELI
I don’t understand what Sapphire is saying because I’m not paying attention. I blame the way her glossy lips move when she talks with enthusiasm, and it makes her look like she’s smiling.
Or maybe it’s how she looks at me like I’m the most interesting person she’s ever met. But that couldn’t be further from the truth because she does that with everyone.
Compared to Sapphire, I’m dull.
Where she’s loud, I’m quiet.
She loves EDM and trance, while I much prefer playing chess. In silence.
She believes in the power of manifestation and that crystals make you feel better and can solve most of your problems, while I trust in facts, statistics, and science, and I don’t buy into that woo-woo stuff she gets excited about on her social media accounts.
We couldn’t be more different.
For example, standing next to her right now in my gray suit makes me feel incredibly lackluster compared to the pink-and-purple tie-dye floaty skirt and whimsical-looking top she’s wearing today.
She’s not just a lover of life, she lives it to the fullest. Every day.
Her favorite activity is swimming in the ocean, naked, I might add. When she told me that, all I could picture was her dying a horrible death after being eaten by a shark or stung by a jellyfish.
I shudder at the thought again. I prefer my feet on solid ground, where I can see what’s beneath me.
Sapphire waves her hand in front of my face as her voice begins to fill my ears, pulling me back into the moment.
“You’re staring again,” Sapphire points out. “Are you okay?”
With each encounter, I catch myself staring at her more and for longer periods of time. I clear my throat and turn away. “Sorry.” It’s getting so ridiculous that it’s embarrassing. And yet, I can’t seem to stop myself.
Why?
Because Sapphire is stunning. Nope. That’s selling her short; she’s… damn… there are no words to describe how gorgeous she is. Like a human glitter bomb, she illuminates every corner of space she enters, bathing it in her kaleidoscope of cheer, fun, and energy.
I like her.
But that doesn’t make any sense. I hate overly chatty people—something she does more often than anyone I know—and yet, I could listen to her all day.
That’s also confusing me.
Even her name suits her. Sapphire.
Although she sparkles brighter than the world’s most expensive gem.
I scan the large ballroom where Sapphire is suggesting we hold our annual staff conference. I pretend to be interested and tuck my hands into my pockets. “Are there breakout rooms for the afternoon workshop preferences?” I ask, trying to focus on anything but her.
“Yes,” Sapphire replies brightly. “Out the main door on the right. There are seven in total. That’s exactly how many we need. Once they clear out the tables and chairs, they’ll be perfect for the meditation class, energy management, and dance therapy.”
“Dance therapy?” I frown, my eyes fixed on her beautiful face because I’m drawn to her like a magnet. “We are not including dance therapy as an option.” My voice is steady, my answer definite.
Sapphire tilts her head to the side and eyes me suspiciously. “Yes, we are.”
“No. We are not.” Did she not hear me the first time?
“Oh, yes, we are, Eli. You already signed off the list of options.”
Did I?
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Don’t tell me, you didn’t even read the document I sent over, you just signed it off?”
I did. Shit. “We need to review the list of options because you can’t seriously think that Roger from accounting, who is retiring later this year, and is one of the most uptight men I know, will choose dance therapy or meditation,” I scoff. It’s fucking laughable. She’s deluded.
Sapphire rolls her eyes at me, something she’s done several times today. “I don’t know who Roger is, and you’d be surprised at who chooses what workshops to attend. Also, you’re lying; you’re the most uptight man I’ve ever met.”
“I’m not uptight,” I snap back.
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m not.”
“Oh yes, you are. You need dance therapy.”
“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.”
“Deal.”
“You must attend every meeting to go over the finer details.”
“Okay. Unless I’m in court.” I may have to reschedule a few things, but I can have my secretary do that for me.
“Gotcha. And you have to agree to come to a retreat with me next weekend.”
Fuck no. “What kind of retreat?”
“A spiritual one. I want to show you the power behind what I do.”
It already sounds dreadful. I’d rather stick pins in my eyes. “And what will I have to do at this retreat?” I ask.
“I’m not telling you. Like I said, you need to trust me.”
I eye her suspiciously. “It’s not a nudist retreat, is it?” It’s something she would sign up for to reconnect with nature.
“Yes, of course it is.” She drawls her reply, her tone thick with sarcasm. “What kind of person do you think I am?” Her eyes widen. “Unless, that is, you want me to sign you up for one, because my good friend Florrie runs one just outside…”
“No,” I cut her off firmly, and begin sweating at the thought of doing yoga completely naked.
She sucks in her cheeks, trying to hide her amusement at her teasing me, and lifts a brow. “Gotcha, Mr. Hart,” she says, throwing me a cheeky wink. “So, do we have a deal?”
I hold out my hand in invitation, which she takes willingly, and we both shake on our deal.
What the hell have I gotten myself into? Why are her hands so soft? And why do they fit perfectly in mine?
“I’ll send you the retreat details as soon as I book it,” she tells me in her sweet tone.
Unable to form words, I squeeze her hand a little, informing her I understand, when all I want to do is pull her close to me and feel her lips on mine.
She releases my hand. “Prepare to be enlightened, Elijah.”
Shit, what the hell have I gotten myself into?
Although maybe she’s calling my bluff, and she won’t book it. Yeah, that’s what it is, it’s a test. That’s all. And I just showed her that I’m not as uptight as she thinks I am because she looked unexpectedly surprised at my immediate acceptance of her invitation.
“I’m totally up for this,” I say confidently when I feel far from it. The fear of interacting in group settings and being judged is already causing me to break out in a cold sweat.
“Great.” Sapphire gives me a tight smile. “Do you like spiders, Elijah?”
“Eli,” I correct her. “And yes to spiders, love them.” I fucking hate them, especially the big hairy ones, and that’s the reason I would never move to the Bay Area, specifically Mount Diablo. Challenges I can handle, eight-legged tarantulas not so much.
“Well, that’s good to know, you know, just in case.”
“In case of what?”
She stutters, “Well, because it’s outdoorsy and stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“Yes, stuff.” Her steady voice is gone, and her words tangle as if she regrets suggesting the retreat. A flush creeps up her neck, her hands twisting nervously in front of her when she asks, “You know that means we will have to spend two full days together?”
I tilt my head to the side and ask, “Are you changing your mind already?”
I can tell she is, and I see right through the poker face she’s struggling to maintain. She’s looking unsettled and uncharacteristically vulnerable, like she’s wishing she could rewind the last few moments and unsay everything. I bet she’s ready to throw in the towel.
But I passed her test, so that’s enough, and she can stop with the fake pretense.
“No.” She’s adamant. “In fact, maybe we should extend it and do three or four days instead.”
Fuck.
“That suits me.” That sounds like hell. Because, well, spiders. “Will there be limited technology access?”
“Yes. Maybe even detoxing of your body too.”
Fuck. Fuck. “Fantastic. And will there be a schedule with a list of activities we will be doing?”
“Not always. Sometimes they throw you into the unknown and in at the deep end.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Sounds like my kind of thing.” I’d rather floss with barbed wire.
Sapphire blinks once, then twice, like she can’t believe my response. “Well then, I’ll get that all booked for us.”
“Fantastic, I can’t wait.” I’d literally rather do anything else; I’d even high-five a poisonous jellyfish.
“Right, well, I’ll get right on to that.” She swallows, glancing at the door, and her shoulders stiffen like she’s bracing herself to escape.
Almost too quick, she’s waving goodbye, muttering something under her breath, and slips away, leaving me standing in an empty room.
“Fuck!” I tilt my head back slightly, letting out a heavy sigh because I know Sapphire has been sent to test me on every level of my life.
This was supposed to be a simple venue walk through, and agreeing to attend a retreat with Sapphire was not on my radar today.
She’s trouble on tap.
But maybe spending a few days with her is exactly what I need to help me understand how someone so unlike me is wrong for me… but then, why does she feel so right?