Elly in Love (The Elly Series) (3 page)

Unsure of what was happening, Elly crept forward to her. “Um, yes?”

“She’s not really allergic,” the maid of honor whispered. “She just really doesn’t like oranges. She thinks she is allergic, but she’s not. So don’t worry too much.”

“Good to know,” Elly whispered back.
So glad I just had a heart attack.
She made her way out to the hallway, gathering buckets and tools along the way. “Note to self,” she said out loud, “add fruit-allergy question to consultation form.”

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.

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.

“No, Keith, I’m fine—I just woke up. Can you just give me a few minutes?”

There was another pause. “Er … um, okay. I’ll just sit out here. In the stairway, with two bags of Italian food and a bottle of wine.”

Elly smiled and leaned her forehead against the door, overwhelmed with longing to see his face. “I can’t let you in. I just woke up from a nap, and not kidding, I probably look like an actual hobo. Not even a normal hobo—the kind of hobo that murdered people in the thirties. I just need ten minutes to shower and clean up.” She heard Keith’s gruff laugh from the other side of the light pine wood, a sound she adored.

“Elly. I’ve seen you disheveled more times than I can count.”

Elly leaned away from the door with an amused smile. “Thanks, Keith, that’s really romantic.”

“Elly … wait, no. Okay, that came out horrible. What I meant to say is that I’ve never seen a woman look so messy.” He gave a low groan. “I can see how that also didn’t sound great.”

Elly folded her arms and gave an exasperated look to Cadbury, who sat obediently waiting by the door, his tail flopping wildly against the floor. He loved Keith much more than he loved Elly.

She heard Keith shuffle his feet. “What I’m trying to say is that….” Elly heard him sigh nervously. “If I think you’re the most beautiful woman even when you are covered in sweat, messy, and tired, then how bad could you possibly be right now?”

Elly’s heart spun in a dizzy circle and she opened the door into the hallway. Keith looked at her face with a grin. “Whoa. Pretty bad.” Elly smiled. With a devastating grin, he pulled her face toward him and softly nuzzled her nose. Elly took a minute to breathe him in. As her curtains curled in the breeze, the darkening pink sky played over his handsome features: a strong jaw, white teeth, soft lips. Keith was bald—but in the best possible way, in that he had a perfectly shaped head—and his dark-blue eyes reminded Elly of an angry sea at night. Tan Italian features occupied his sincere face that dimpled at the cheeks when he smiled, which was often. His smile was infectious and always proud, and he had a way of making the people around him want to be better. Years of throwing huge hunks of meat around and cutting endless sandwiches had given him a stocky and strong build. Elly ran her fingers over his thick arms, feeling herself sink into his steady embrace. He smelled like warm bread. They held each other passionately for a second and then released awkwardly.

We’re not quite there yet
, thought Elly.
We’re still a little nervous around each other.

Keith kissed her hand before holding her at arm’s length. “Let me see this so-called wreck.”

Elly looked down at her own clothing and grimaced. “I call this look ‘wildly inappropriate gym teacher.’” Her khaki shorts were so wrinkled that they looked more like tissue paper than the less-than-attractive shorts they were. Her baby-blue polo clung tightly to her body—it was a size too small—which might have been noticeable if it weren’t for the host of stains covering the fabric. Elly reached up and felt her hair. It was a tangled bird’s nest, and she could feel her cheeks were damp and clammy from sleep. She reached up to wipe her face with her palm. “I know I look awful. If you just give me a few minutes….”

Keith yanked her toward him and she almost bounced off his soft chest. He pushed her hair back from her face, strand by strand. The apartment faded from Elly’s eyes, and all she saw was Keith’s kind mouth inches from hers, his breath lingering on her lips. “I know you don’t believe me when I tell you, but you are perfection. In every way. Even when you are wearing some disgusting polo, and when you have—” he ran the pad of his finger down her profile, “couch imprints and some sort of stain on your cheek.” With a frown, he rubbed his thumb across her face gently, and then with more determination. “My word, Elly. Is this rust? How did you get rust on your face?”

Elly turned her mouth up in a half smile to kiss him like he’d never been kissed before. At that moment, her stomach gave a loud and embarrassing gurgle.
Don’t ruin the moment by saying that you’re starving. Don’t ruin it, don’t do it….
“Keith?”

He was focused on the stain now, frowning as he tried to get it off her cheek. “Yes?”

“Can we eat?”

He laughed. “Of course. I’m glad I make such a romantic impression on you that your first question is ‘Can we eat?’”

Way to be ridiculous
, she thought. She feigned humor. “You’re very romantic, but so is the garlic bread I’m smelling.”

Keith gave her a quick kiss on the rust stain and began putting the food out on the table
. “
I’m starving, too. And I love a woman who knows what she wants.”

Elly watched him silently.
I do know what I want. And it’s right in front of me.

After dinner and a horrible movie—a raunchy guy comedy involving far too many boob jokes, Elly felt Keith softly nudge her out of a comatose state. They were snuggled up on the couch, Elly’s head tucked under Keith’s chin.

“Hey! Let’s go up to the roof for dessert.”

She turned her head and viewed him with skepticism. “After that cinematic treasure, dessert sounds wonderful.”

Keith twirled his fingers through Elly’s blond tendrils. “Sorry about the movie. Dave told me it was hilarious.” He paused. “Actually, I thought it was pretty funny.”

Elly gave a moan. “The only female characters were a shrill wife and a hooker!”

“At least the hooker was nice.” He kissed her forehead. “I think I have a better idea than the movie, but you have to give me ten minutes.”

Elly closed her eyelids. “Granted. Wake me up when you need me.”

A few minutes later, Keith led Elly up to her roof-deck. She had poured a portion of her payment from last spring’s gigantic wedding—her ex-husband Aaron’s wedding— onto her roof-deck, and why not? It was her favorite spot in the world. A large wood pergola now stretched its rustic arms out over the concrete space. Her orange couches had remained and were now covered with bright-colored paisley pillows, all made with water proof fabric and adorned with the emblem of a sheepdog stitched in the middle. Dangling fairy lights dipped and danced down from the pergola and the whole area oozed charm. Elly grimaced as she thought of her first decorating attempt; it had not been as successful. Three boxes of pink Christmas lights were pushed up against the wall, along with plastic pink flamingoes and an unopened kiddie pool. “Paradise Found” had been her idea, but her best friend Kim’s look of disgust had shut that down immediately. Even though Elly had loathed her for a couple of days, she had been right. “Vintage Arts and Craft Loft” had been a much better theme. Elly had an impeccable eye for floral and wedding design, but she wasn’t as gifted in home design.

As Elly came up the landing, she gasped with delight. On her low coffee table, a few generic candles lit the darkness around them, sending flickers of light across a bottle of her favorite wine. Elly clutched his arm. “Are you trying to seduce me?” She quickly kissed his cheek and she could hear a happy sigh under his breath.

“Maybe.”

“I don’t deserve you. You know that, right?”

Keith’s arms tightened around her. “I hate when you say stuff like that, Elly. You
do
deserve me. I deserve you. We deserve each other.” He rested his heavy head on her blond curls. “I mean, I’m a mildly attractive but chubby man, and you are a curvy Grecian goddess. We’re perfect together.”

Elly’s loud laugh was muffled in Keith’s shirt.

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s bust open this extravagant bottle of fifteen-dollar wine.”

Elly settled back on the couch and watched as Keith uncorked the bottle
.
He glanced up at her, winked and began pouring. Elly closed her eyes and leaned back. When he began humming the opening bars to “Moon River” in his low register, she was instantly taken back to their first kiss.