EJ's heart was racing as he watched her. She was happy and excited to show him her place, and it was the most precious thing he had ever seen. It was nice, warm, and cozy in there, but he could hardly take it in because his eyes were on Savannah.
"My lovely workshop is also my living room," she said, gesturing to the main room of her living space. At least a quarter of the room was taken up with art supplies—a desk and shelving units with stacks and stacks of supplies. The whole place was bright and busy, and that corner, her mosaic corner, was especially full. One whole section of shelves had pieces that were in progress, and he noticed a bowl that was a lot like his.
"No two pieces are exactly alike," he said, thinking about his bowl.
"No, definitely not. I could hardly do that if I tried. I could get close, though… You see all these supplies. It's nice to have such extensive supplies. I could probably come close to replicating things, but honestly, I wouldn't ever want to try to do one exactly like another. That would take the fun out of it."
"Will you ever make another lady like the one downstairs?"
"Maybe. I sold her, so I'd have to remember what I did."
"You sold her?" EJ asked, feeling shocked.
"Yeah."
"Since the last time I was here? I didn't think about it when I was downstairs."Of course he didn't. All he could see was Savannah."Who'd you sell it to?"
"Gabe. It's crazy. He was the one who hooked me up with this place, and all these supplies, and then, when I make something out of this stuff he gives me, he pays me! His sister came to town last week, and she fell in love with that lady, so he bought it for her. He took five thousand dollars off of my mortgage total. He wrote out a receipt for it and hauled her off that same day. I couldn’t pass on five thousand. That's a whole month of my bills. I think he had it shipped to New Orleans, where she lives."
"Were you happy? I didn't think you wanted to sell her."
"Sure, I'm happy. I miss her, but not five grand worth."
She was happy, but EJ couldn't help but feel annoyed. It was a one-of-a-kind piece. In his mind, it was worth more than five. Actually, he just wanted it. He was mad that that guy had it. "Who is this guy anyway?" He said out loud since he was thinking about it.
"Gabe. The man who helped me out with this place."
"Yeah, I know, but you never told me his story. Why's he so willing to help you so much?"
EJ had taken a second to look around, but as he asked the question, he turned to look at Savannah. Their eyes locked. They had a few instances of eye locking tonight, but she was so casual that she never held it for longer than a second or two at a time. His heart raced when she stared at him for longer than usual. Her eyes were dark and piercing.
"There's nothing going on between us, if that's what you're trying to imply," she said.
In that moment, he realized she was staring at him not because she was in love, but because she thought he was accusing her of having an affair with this man for money.
"I wasn't saying that," he said. "I just don't know what he feels about you. What's his motivation in giving you all of this?"
"Are you doubting that one human can just be kind and generous with another human?" she asked, still staring straight at him. "You bought me dinner tonight. Should I assume you want something from me?"
He stared at her unblinking. He very much wanted something from her. He wanted all of her. If this other guy felt about her like EJ did, they were all in a whole lot of trouble.
"No, I guess not," he said, since the question was an obvious trap.
"Come peek in the rest of my apartment."
She took him by the arm and pulled him toward the hallway. She didn't hold onto him long because he knew to follow her. "My bedroom," she said, extending her hand and urging him to look inside. "Remember, I had no idea you were coming," she said. "So sorry about any mess."
It was cluttered in there, but it wasn't dirty. Her things were so colorful and beautiful that it didn't matter that they were not completely organized. He took it in, feeling oddly comfortable and at home there even though it was the first time he had ever laid eyes on it. Her bed had pillows and a colorful quilt, and he wanted to take off his shoes and dive into the middle of it. It was cool in there. It was cool in temperature, and it was the room of a cool person.
"And there are two bathrooms. Mine is back there, through my bedroom, and the one for guests is right here."
She scooted past him and opened a door in the hallway. It was a full bathroom. She went to a third door. "This is a second bedroom right here." She opened the door, and he looked inside. It was clean and tidy with a futon, a small dresser, and a lamp.
"People wonder why I don't use this room for my mosaics. One, I have guests in here sometimes… my mom or whoever. And two, I don't want to. Look how tiny it is, and it's all boxed in. The window's so small. I love my spot in the living room by the big window. It's my apartment, like I said, so I can do what I want, right?"
"Yes, you can," he said.
"And to answer your question, Gabe and I are close, but there's never been anything between us, and he doesn't expect there to be. We're good friends. We hit it off as friends, and that's all there is to it. He took a liking to me, and that's all. It's completely platonic—never any talk of that stuff. He has people in his life but no children."
