Arriving in the sculpture atrium, Elly pursed her lips together and gave a low whistle. Snarky Teenager trotted around the corner, a phone number written on her tiny hand.
“Elly! Oh my gosh. You should see the guy I just talked to. I’m pretty sure he surfs. Like, in the ocean. I didn’t know it until now, but I think I have a thing for surfers. Actually, I think I’m going to marry a surfer.” They had entered the museum’s ballroom, which was a gross exaggeration in Elly’s mind, seeing how it was a small windowless concrete block. The only bright spot in the room was the flowers on their Posies cart.
“So, what happened to Basir?” Elly asked. Her assistant’s last boyfriend had been Russian. Or something. Either way, he was a sweet boy and up until recently, she had been crazy about him.
Snarky Teenager gave a nonchalant shrug. “I got the feeling that he was more into the relationship than I was. When went out to the clubs, he wanted to dance with me as opposed to just dancing around me.”
Elly started placing square cherry wood boxes bursting with white anthurium onto the tables. “I don’t know how to say this, but that doesn’t actually sound like a real problem.”
“It is when he thinks he owns you. He wanted to hold my hand everywhere we went, wanted me to meet his mother, bought me a necklace….”
Elly started adding tiny chocolate cosmos to a perfectly square white cake as sarcasm dripped from her mouth. “You’re right. That sounds absolutely awful. How did you ever live with him for so long?”
Snarky Teenager rolled her eyes. “Elly. You don’t understand. He looked at me like I was the center of his world. Those brown puppy dog eyes were cute at first, but then all the sudden it was absolutely suffocating.” She gave a loud sigh. “He did look fantastic in the nylon briefs I bought him, though.”
Elly raised her hand. “I really don’t want to hear about that.” Okay, maybe a little. “Can you go set up the bar and the buffet table?” Snarky Teenager gave a groan, but she headed that direction.
They labored for another hour, covering every surface with Indian henna pots filled with wild herbs, root plants and rustic pods. As her assistant packed up, Elly leaned back against a circular wood table and gazed around the room. It was an eclectic masterpiece, full of bright bizarre flowers and lush petals twisted into awkward shapes. The joy of a job well done surged up in her chest. Love this job, she thought. Then she felt the weight of the discarded oranges in her apron pocket and reconsidered. Most of the time, I love my job. I also would love to eat sometime today. Skipping breakfast was a bad idea. Throwing her tools into a bright-pink tote bag, she stood quickly, her stomach cramping. Elly picked up a stray flower head and launched it at Snarky Teenager. It bounced off her perfect forehead. Elly suddenly became convinced that she would make an excellent softball pitcher. “Hey you, with the half skirt; let’s head out. I have a date with lunch.”
Snarky Teenager looked at Elly. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. You have rust stains on your face.”
Elly shrugged. “I’ll get it later. Let’s go. There is schawarma with my name on it.”
“Every schawarma has your name on it.”
“Quiet, peon!”
Together, they giggled as they made their way to the car.
Chapter Two
When Elly pushed open the door to her apartment, she was greeted with a swift knock to the knees, courtesy of Cadbury, her naughty English sheepdog. Essentially a huge gray-and-white cotton ball that occasionally smelled like fish, Cadbury romped around her ankles, barking joyfully and whining at her until she reached above the fridge and delivered what he was waiting for: a treat. How sad, thought Elly as Cadbury scampered off to devour his kill, the dog loves fake organic bacon more than he loves me. She glanced at the clock on her counter; it was four o’clock. She settled deep into her comfy couch, taking a sip from a warm glass of sun tea that had been left out that morning. Keith would be here in two hours for their Saturday-night date—that gave her plenty of time to walk Cadbury, take a nap, shower, and get herself to gorgeous, or at the very least, presentable. I better make sure to wipe the rust off my face…. Her eyes fluttered briefly, and she was asleep in seconds.
She awoke to a loud pounding. Elly leapt off the couch before she was actually awake. The room seemed off-balance and her chubby legs gave a pathetic quiver before she promptly crashed to the ground. What was happening? It was dusk outside. What? She felt a warm tongue lash across her cheek.
“Cadbury! Gross!” She brushed off her face and sat up on the carpet, sprawled out like an oversized toddler. The banging continued. Realization dawned. Keith. Elly pushed herself off the carpet and leaned against the door. “Keith?” There was a long pause.
“Elly? Are you okay? You sound … drunk or something.” Keith’s rich bass voice bounced through the door.