FRAGILE: Part 1 (5 page)

“Yes.”

“If you want your dessert, you’ll need to match me,” I say.

Eli smiles, as he undoes his tie.

I’m trying not to show it, but I’m giddy and feel practically drunk with love, as I sit at the café table, waiting for Larisa. It’s been difficult to think this morning, and I’m just getting my thoughts together and finally calming down when I see Larisa walk through the door.

I’d warned her that I am dressed in the pretty blue cocktail dress that Eli had gotten me, so I’m unsurprised to see her enter in a very cute lavender dress that reaches to her ankles, accenting her curves, and a cream-colored short jacket. I wave at her, and she smiles as she walks over.

“Hello there, lover girl,” Larisa says. “You certainly look like you had a good time!”

I pat down my hair, which is still a little damp from the shower that morning. “I do?”

“I can see the mischief in your eyes,” Larisa says. She peers at me over her glasses, as she sits. “Miss Jennings.”

Despite myself, I giggle. “Ah, yeah, well. It was good.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?” Larisa asks. At that point our waitress shows up. We both order coffee and water, and I order a chicken avocado sandwich while Larisa gets a BLT.

I wait till the waitress is out of earshot, and then I lean in. “The love-making part? Amazing.”

“But he was still really secretive with you?” Larisa asks. “Even after the second night?”

I nod. “He does
not
like to talk about himself! And, there were even a couple of times I’d asked something that made him basically shut down.”

Larisa’s hazel eyes are watching me intently, and I can see that I have her interest. “Past stuff?”

“Anything personal beyond interests and hobbies. Even his work!” Our coffees and waters arrive, and I add lots of cream and sugar to my cup before taking a sip.

“Do you think your initial meeting might have something to do with it?” Larisa asks. “Maybe he’s just being cautious.”

“That could be,” I admit. “But at one point I asked him about his family, and I thought he was going to walk right out of the room.”

“Hm.” Larisa adjusts her glasses, a habit she does when she’s very intrigued. “Does he want to see you again?”

“He didn’t say.” I sigh, trying not to show how disappointed I felt. “I gave him my contact info. I’m hoping I get to see him again.”

Larisa, watching my face, suddenly laughs. “I’ve never seen you so love struck, Ruby!”

“I’m not love struck.”

“You’re getting a dreamy look on your face, and I’ve never heard you talk about a guy like this before.”

I blush, embarrassed. “So how was your day yesterday?” I ask.

Grinning, Larisa shakes her head. “Uh-uh, you’re not getting out of this that easy, Ruby. I’m not letting you pull an ‘Eli’ on me. You like the guy. A lot.”

“Yes, I like the guy a lot,” I finally say. “But he’s already told me he doesn’t want a girlfriend.”

“You’ve been known to change minds,” Larisa suggests.

“What happened to
you
wanting to date Eli?” I ask. I actually don’t like the idea of Eli with anyone else, as much as I want the best for Larisa, but I’m trying to find a way out of this conversation.

“Not with the way you talk about him,” Larisa says. “Not my type. Of course, you need to be careful, or you might go knocking his door down to see him again—which we can’t have right now.”

I giggle again. “Whatever.”

Larisa, still smiling, pulls out a legal pad full of notes. “I had some thoughts about other client possibilities. Since,” Larisa adds, “there
is
always the possibility that your encounter might cause Marnvell Jewelers to not renew their contract with us.”

I lift my head up, startled at the thought. “Really?”

“I’m not saying they will,” Larisa said quickly.

“They haven’t mentioned anything about stopping business with us, have they?” I ask.

“No,” Larisa says. “I haven’t checked when their contract ends just yet, but I suppose there is the possibility that your, uh, visit was probably sufficient to keep Mr. Richardson on your good side.”

We share a grin before I look back down over everything on the legal pad as the waitress brings out our sandwiches. “There’s a couple of these I’ve never heard of before,” I say. I eat some French fries before I start on my sandwich.

“The sales team’s been doing some research on up-and-coming companies,” Larisa says. “And they really think we have a shot. I think Icarus is going to give you a run down on all of this during tomorrow’s meeting, but I wanted to give you some insight before the meeting.”

I smirk. Larisa has a habit of prepping me before the meeting when my other employees would prep me. I don’t mind it; I just often feel bad that I’ve got folks whose efforts are overlapping. I’d redirect Larisa’s work if I didn’t always find out something from her that no one else noted. And, my other employees did great reports and often had stats that Larisa didn’t bother with. It always worked out. It is just funny.

After a long drink of my coffee, I set the legal pad down and look out the window. I’m partly thinking about the list of new names, but most of my brain is thinking about Eli.

He’s so fascinating. So mysterious. So sexy. I’m drawn to his self-assured demeanor, and I’m puzzled by his dislike for personal questions. I want to know more about him, and I’m surprised that I’m already missing him.

“Ruby?”

I blink my eyes and look back at Larisa. “I’m sorry, were you saying something?”

“Are you okay?” Larisa asks me.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Just thinking.”

Larisa grins. “So how long until you move out?”

“Move out?” I ask, confused. I like my penthouse, even if it feels oddly fancy for me.

“So you can move in with a rather attractive man that I won’t name just yet, but you’re probably thinking about,” Larisa says.

I raise my eyebrows at Larisa, and she laughs. “Realistically? Or ideally?” I ask.

“Come on,” Larisa says. “Give yourself more credit!”

“I’m not going to claim I’m ugly,” I finally say. I’ve had enough compliments to believe people—at least most of the time. What girl doesn’t feel ugly from time to time? “But the guy isn’t exactly swooning over me. And I told you, he’s not interested in a long term relationship. That was probably it.” As the words come out of my mouth, I can’t help sighing, saddened.

“Whatever,” Larisa says. “I’ve got no doubt you’ll change his mind.”

We laugh as we finish our sandwiches, sketching out a plan of attack to earn some more distributors.

***

I’m looking at sketchpad filled with crossed-off ideas for a new design line when my phone rings. Glad for the interruption, I pick it up. “Hello, this is Ruby,” I say.

“Miss Jennings,” Larisa says. “Jeff Hendricks from Chargene Jewelers wants to schedule a meeting with you.”

Jeff Hendricks is the CEO of Chargene Jewelers, another of Ruby Jewelry’s distributors. I tense at the tone in her voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Jeff wouldn’t say, but he said it was urgent,” Larisa says. “I went ahead and booked it for Thursday at two o’clock next week.”

I wince, immediately dreading this meeting. “Thanks,” I say. “Would you ask Icarus to get me reports on our line item sales through them, and a copy of their contract?”

“Of course,” Larisa says. “I’ll get it on it. Talk later.”

“Talk later,” I say. I hang up, set my phone down, and stare at my chicken scratches on the page.

It’s a good thing today’s Thursday, because I’m already worn out. While Ruby’s Jewelry continues to do well, we’ve had a slow in distributors willing to show our line recently, so I’ve got a lot of trade shows to attend and distributors to talk to in an attempt to get more business. Now, I’ve got a bad feeling that we’re going to lose Chargene Jewelers. And, while we haven’t had any word about Marnvell Jewelers backing out, it’s still in the back of my mind, especially since I still haven’t heard from Eli. Let alone the fact that I still haven’t come up with a new design line.

The stress certainly keeps giving me headaches, and I take a couple of pills for headache relief before switching over to make some calls to current distributors to touch base. I can’t afford to lose any more.

***

Despite how tired and off I feel, and how sad I am that there’s still no word from Eli, when Saturday rolls around I head to the local soup kitchen and food pantry that I volunteer at, called Lark’s Food Pantry. Erin, the head of Lark’s Food Pantry, greets me with a warm smile as I bend down to hug her. Erin’s short and plump, and she’s got the most contagious smile and laugh and a huge heart, something that I just love about her. We’d met at the coffee shop once, and when she asked me if I’d be interested in donating to the organization, I’d given her not just money but my number. That had been two years ago, and since then, I’d started volunteering one Saturday out of every month.

“Hi Ruby!” Erin says. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Good to see you too, Erin. How are you?” I ask.

“I’m great! And yourself?”

“Doing well.” Really, outside of just wanting to see Eli again and stressing about work, I’m fine. “What do you need help with today?”

“I was wondering if you’d mind delivering food with Homer today?”

Homer’s an older man with a toothy grin and the funniest jokes, and I beam at Erin. “Sounds like fun!”

Homer’s already gathering the paper lunch bags with the food into plastic bags, his white frizzy hair sticking out every which way under his baseball cap, and he smiles and holds his arms wide when he sees me.

“Ruuuuuuby!” Homer exclaims.

“Hi Homer!” I give him a hug, and he pats me on the back heartily.

“It’s been forever since I saw your pretty face,” Homer says. I help him gather up the remaining paper bags.

“It’s only been a month,” I say.

“But we didn’t get to work together then,” Homer says. “How’s the business?”

“Ups and downs, but overall still doing well, thanks. And how are the ladies?” I ask. Homer’s married, and he and his wife have five daughters, and their three eldest already have children of their own, and they’re all girls too. Homer joked with me once that at this point he’s had a couple of periods because of all the estrogen floating around his family.

“Good, good! The wife’s been fighting a cold, so she’s not here today.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say. “Tell Stacy I miss her and hope she feels better soon.”

“Thanks, Ruby. I know she’ll be glad to hear from you.”

I zip my black fleece jacket closed over my red t-shirt, as we walk out into the city, the wind a little cool as we’re walking. I have a very intimidating presence according to some people, and I often have to wait and let Homer do the talking before I approach folks on the streets. Of course, there are some of the men that are far more interested in me than the food, and Homer handles those ones, too. I’m usually able to get children to come to me. I have no idea why children aren’t afraid of me but some adults are, and I ask Homer about it while we head towards a crosswalk.

“I think it’s your energy,” Homer says. “Adults are afraid of your energy because they know you could get feisty with them. Children are just drawn to energy though—and you’re full of energy.”

I laugh. “Thanks, Homer. I haven’t felt like it recently.”

“You getting old?” Homer asks me.

“I’ve definitely felt like I am,” I say. I shift the bags in my hands. We have a few more left, and we’re waiting for the sign to change, so we can cross the street to another section where we know there’s more homeless folks.

Homer rolls his eyes. “Too much work, I think. Just wait till you’re actually older, young grasshopper.”

“Yeah, yeah. My mom told me that last night,” I say.

“Ruby?” a deep, familiar voice says from behind me.

Seriously?
I think. I turn to see Eli standing nearby, dressed as divinely as always, this time in a pinstriped gray suit, a briefcase in one hand. And here I’m in jeans and a t-shirt, with minimal makeup on.
Of course,
this
is when I’d run into him.

Still, I’m glad to see him again, and I smile. “Hi Eli!”

“What are you doing?” Eli asks.

“I volunteer with Lark’s Food Pantry,” I say. “We’re handing out food.” I gesture to Homer beside me. “This is Homer, another volunteer.”

“Hey,” Homer says. He holds out a hand, and Eli shifts the briefcase to his other hand to shake Homer’s hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Homer,” Eli says. He turns his eyes to me, watching me with a slight frown. “How long have you been volunteering at Lark’s Food Pantry?”

“Um. Maybe two years?” I say. I glance at Homer, and he nods his head.

“Ruby here’s also a big supporter—although no one’s supposed to know that,” Homer says.

I squint my eyes in warning at Homer, as he grins at me. I tried very hard to make my donations anonymous, but somehow they’d been connected back to me, and word had squeaked out to Homer and Stacy, probably from Erin.