Elly held her hand up in a half-wave. Everyone stared at her, wine glasses in hand. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Elly, are you a musician?” asked a red headed girl with horn-rimmed glasses. She looked doubtful.
“No, no, I’m not, I actually own the florist next door. We do mostly weddings.”
The girl looked at her blankly.
Elly continued blabbering. “I had a really interesting one the other day...there was this chocolate fountain...”
From the other couch, a man with a beret piped in. “Anyway, I believe that if we quit hanging on to these Judeo-Christian rules about music, than we will never be fully realized within our own potential.”
Elly felt lost, stuck in the middle of her own sentence, which she was still finishing.
“And er, I sat in the fountain….”
Isaac glanced at her. “Well, that is a story I want to hear. Come on, let’s leave these blabbering fools.” He winked at the girls on the couch, one of whom noticeably shifted under his gaze.
As he led Elly into the kitchen, it was obvious to her, and everyone at the party, that he only had eyes for her.
“What would you like to drink? I have wine, beer, water, cranberry juice…”
Elly raised her eyebrows. “Cranberry juice? That’s a very manly drink.”
Isaac nodded, “I know. But, at the end of a writing session, when everyone wants a beer, I just want cranberry juice. It stimulates my music, I think. I know, it’s weird. Don’t tell the indie panel,” he trailed off he gestured with his head towards the living room. “They are a little annoying, but they are nice people when you get to know them.”
He leaned towards her and whispered in her ear as he handed her a glass of juice.
“They definitely are a little boring though. You are very UN-boring.” His fingertips brushed over hers, and Elly found herself captivated by everything about him. Their eyes locked. Elly tore herself away from his brown eyes and looked around the kitchen. It was small and bare, except for some food trays and a small Buddha statue on the window ledge. She gestured towards it.
“Is this yours, or do you have roommates?”
“Oh, my grandparents brought this when they came over to the mainland from Hawaii. They gave it to me as a gift when I moved out here. It’s really the only thing I had in the apartment for awhile besides my guitar. I’m not really religious at all, but I just think it looks super awesome there.”
Ahhh, thought Elly, he’s Hawaiian. And who has a religious icon just for looks?
“Tell me about your parents,” she said.
“Well, they are mostly respectable adults. They live in Honolulu. Modern bungalow, the works. My dad works with software, and my mom owns an antique shop. I love visiting them, but I don’t want to live there. I need room to roam.”
His eyes simmered at her. She felt herself flushing as their conversation flowed. The minutes flew by as they talked over the granite kitchen island that separated them. Elly loved the way his mouth moved when he talked. The moment passed too quickly.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
Should I eat? thought Elly. If I don’t eat, he’ll think I’m trying to look skinny, or on a diet. If I do eat, he’ll notice I’m a fatty and squeezed into these size 16 khakis. Why I did WEAR khakis?
She sucked her stomach in and leaned into the counter.
“Well…I could eat something,” she said, trying to sound ambivalent to the very thought, even though her stomach was churning. Isaac glanced around.
“Well, if it was up to me we’d have cereal…but Tifah brought some appetizers, so let’s go ask her what they have.”
Elly was loath to go back to the pompous idiots talking about something she didn’t understand and leave the breezy kitchen where she had his full attention. Isaac ducked under the fringed curtain, looking at back at Elly. He could instantly tell that she was uncomfortable and tried to put her at ease.
“I won’t leave you out there, promise.” His eyes smiled. She followed him out.
A couple of people had arrived late, and the party was in full swing. It was also way past Elly’s bedtime. They approached the group on the couch.
“Isaac, where did you go?” asked the red-head wearing black and white striped stockings and a cute jean skirt. She nudged him with her hip.
Elly. Hated. Redheads.
“Tifah. You are so nosey. We were just in the kitchen. Hey, Elly is hungry.”
Thank you for pointing that out, Elly sang in her head.
“What are the appetizers you brought?”
Tifah, a waif, leaned into Isaacs shoulder. “Well, I have been trying new things from Gourmet Petite for lighter fare…we have a shrimp ceviche, a salmon mousse on Melba toast, and crudité.”
Elly was suddenly longing for the box of cereal bars that was sitting temptingly in her pantry. Isaac, however, apparently mirrored her feelings.
“What the heck is a crudité?” he asked.
Elly snickered.
“It’s….vegetables. Carrot sticks,” Tifah informed him.