“Yes.” I’m taking my micromanagement mode to a whole new level. “And copy Janice in so she can easily catch up on her return.”
I’ve found this whole dinner exhausting.
She nods and stares at me as if I were an exotic animal in a zoo exhibit. “And you’re still adamant that the entire event is to be themed black and white.”
“Yes.” It’s the color of our logo.
“Not even a hint of gold or silver to break things up, add a little pizazz?” She pinches a small amount of air between her fingers.
Pizazz?
“No. And no fairy lights, vibrant banners, or flowers. Nothing unprofessional.” At Hart Law, we take pride in being the best in the state. “We are prestigious and sophisticated to the core.” Unlike the logo for her business, which looks like a bird of paradise spilled onto it.
Having spent the last hour or so with Sapphire, I can’t help but ask myself what the fuck Janice was thinking hiring her business. We do not feel like a good fit.
Yes, she might be enthusiastic, but her ideas for workshops and breakout sessions have left me more than confused. I would rather deepthroat a cactus than create a team song for the firm using shakers and hand pans. And we definitely donotneed a fun playlist for registration.
Sapphire isn’t just out there; I’m sure she lives on another planet: Planet Head in the Clouds.
“Please don’t be offended when I ask you this but is gray your favorite color, Eli?”
“Color is a distraction.”
“So that’s why the sticky notes on your desk are muted and look like they stepped out of an autumn photoshoot on a stormy day?”
Uncomfortable with this conversation, I unclasp the acupressure clip from between my fingers, set it on the table to return it, then straighten my tie and tighten it around my neck. “I don’t like neon colors.” Gray is still a color. I push my jaw forward in defiance.
“You don’t say,” she drawls, her tone thick with sarcasm, before moving on. “Well, I am up for the challenge to make your event unforgettable, so I’ll email you new ideas then let’s reconvene next week. All I need is a few days to rework my magic. I’ll also email you some dates and times for our next meeting.”
“We don’t need to meet up.” Especially if it means dining in the same restaurant we’re in. It’s much too lively, plus I don’t have the time to meet again. Well, I do, I just don’t want to.
I’m lying to myself. I like her a little. Maybe a lot. Maybe too much.
Janice will take the reins when she gets back, and I can micromanage… I mean, have the final say without dealing with Sapphire directly. I signal to the waiter. “I’ll get the bill. I have somewhere I need to be.” Somewhere far from the woman who seems to thrive on chaotic electronic notes filled with side notes and doodles. And yet, part of me wants to spend more time with her.
Fuck. This is terrible.
“I already settled the bill when you visited the restroom, Eli.”
Her words take me by surprise. “Why?”
“Because I invited you—sorry, I invited Hart Law for dinner.” She moves quickly, shoving her computer tablet and the acupressure clip into her purse before slipping on a canary-yellow cardigan, which seems to match perfectly with her lime-green top and floaty skirt covered in floral prints of the same tone.
How she manages to look both flamboyant and elegant is beyond me.
Within minutes, we’re standing on the sidewalk, and just as I’m about to say goodbye, Sapphire pulls a red bicycle helmet out of her bottomless purse as if she’s Mary Poppins and secures it on her head, clipping the fastener on the chinstrap together. “It was lovely to meet you, Eli.” She steps forward as if going in for a hug, but I panic and offer her my hand to shake instead.
Yup. Janice needs to fire her company. She’s too… extra.
“You too,” I answer tersely, forcing a lying reply through my teeth because her talkative nature has left me tense, unsure of what she’ll say next.
All I can think about now is why she’s wearing a bike helmet, and I’d ask, but she’ll waste another five minutes of my time with some long, convoluted story.
After our awkward handshake, Sapphire wishes me a safe cab ride home, whirls around on the balls of her feet and waves me goodbye before walking toward a mint-green bicycle with a white basket attached to the front that’s decorated with what looks like artificial flowers.
Huh, she must have left that here earlier.
In a daze, completely fascinated and captivated by her, all I can do is observe every move she makes, from unlocking her U-lock to jumping onto the seat and riding off into the night, bidding me farewell with one last wave without a second glance at me, her multicolored hair and floaty skirt blowing behind her in the wind.
