Starting From Scratch (16 page)

Shockingly, I was able to concentrate on my work for

the majority of the day. Tyrell had a friend with a new

landscaping company and as a favor (and in return for

doing the lawn maintenance on Tyrell’s yard, I suspected),

he had me designing a look for him. I had no other

projects that were under any kind of time constraints, so I

spent the day working up a logo for Ladybug Lawn Care,

trying to make a ladybug cute and friendly without it

being too cartoonish. It came out nice; I was pleased with

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the shades of red, green, and black and the way they

blended. I think Tyrell was happy, too.

“Nice work, Avery, as always,” he commended me as

he took the color printout with a satisfied grin and told me

he’d show his buddy over the weekend.

I sent the various remains of my baked goods home

with coworkers. ank God I work with people who like

my sweets or I’d be forced to eat them myself. I’d weigh

five hundred pounds, easy.

“I expect a full report on Monday morning,” Josh told

me as we walked out together. “Unless you want to call me

tomorrow…”

“We’ll see how it goes,” I said, trying my best to act

calm, cool, and collected.

“Have a great time.” He was sincere as he winked at

me and got into his car.

“at’s the plan,” I murmured.

Once home, I tried not to flit around like some

nervous fly-like person. I fed Steve, then took him for a

walk as much for me as for him.  e day had been

pleasantly warm and the sun was still bright as we weaved

our way through our development, Steve stopping every

ten feet to either sniff something, pee on something, or

both.

I didn’t mind the stops and starts. ey gave me time

to breathe in the sweet summer air sprinkled with the

scent of fresh-cut grass, and to will myself to relax. I really

was being a little silly, letting myself get so worked up.

I was having drinks with a beautiful woman. at’s all.

Half an hour later, I completely stunned myself by

choosing a suitable outfit for my date on the very first try. I

knew Elena would be coming right from work and would

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probably still be dressed for it. I donned a nice, classy pair

of khaki-colored capris, a cream T-shirt, and a short-

sleeved, zip-up hooded sweater in this really cool shade of

sage green. I toyed with the idea of pulling back my hair,

debated with myself in the mirror, then finally did,

securing it with a simple clip at the nape of my neck.

Simple gold hoop earrings and a chunky bracelet of earth-

toned beads that Maddie made me in jewelry class topped

off the outfit. A quick touch-up of my make-up was all

that was necessary before I stepped into my brown leather

slides and surveyed myself in the full-length mirror.

“What do you think, Steve?”

He lifted his head from my yellow flowered comforter

and yawned widely, going so far as to allow a high-pitched

little squeal come from way back in his throat.

“Perfect,” I said as I rolled my eyes. “anks for your

input. You’re always such a fabulous help.” I tugged the

zipper of my sweater down another inch so the pull lay just

below my breasts, and I absently wondered if Elena would

be looking in that direction. I hoped so.

One quick nod of satisfaction, a spritz from Liz

Claiborne at my throat, a deep stabilizing breath, and I was

ready.

1

Designed to look like a Mediterranean café, the little

Italian bistro was called Antonia’s. I’d only been in it twice

before, but I’d liked the colors, the atmosphere, and the

smell. Aromas of garlic, fresh bread, and basil seemed to

float by as I walked to the bar and grabbed a seat on the

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corner. at way when Elena arrived, we wouldn’t be side

by side, but almost facing each other.

“What can I get you?” His nametag said Jeff and with

his bleached blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and almost

unnaturally tan skin, he looked anything but Italian. His

smile was friendly and his eyes crinkled kindly as he placed

a cocktail napkin before me. “I recommend the house

Cabernet. Smooth, tasty, and affordable.”

“Sold,” I said, slapping the polished wood of the bar. I

watched as he poured, entranced by the ruby-red, somehow

regal shade as it filled the glass.

I was only on my second sip of the wine—Jeff was

right about it being smooth and tasty—when I saw her

walk through the doorway. e glass in mid-air, halfway to

my lips, I watched as she scanned the small interior of the

bistro, then saw me. A delighted smile crossed her face and

she began her trek in my direction, all black business-

suited and sexy. I half-expected her to walk past me and

greet somebody behind me, because I couldn’t fathom such

a beautiful woman wanting to spend time with little old

me, but apparently she did. She took the stool I’d saved for

her and sat down with a sigh of relief, crossing her

stockinged legs and settling in.

“Hi,” she said simply. “Whew! What a day.”

“ank God it’s Friday?”

“You have no idea. What are you drinking?”

“Cabernet. Try?” I slid the glass toward her and she

took a sip. I pretended not to delight in the clear streak of

gloss her lips left.

“Oh, that’s nice.” She gestured toward Jeff, then the

glass, and he nodded.

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e deep, calming breath she took drew my eyes to

the electric blue blouse she wore under the black jacket

and I found myself studying her collarbone once again.

What the hell was it about that part of her that I found so

damn sexy? A
collarbone
? What was wrong with me?

“I had to fire one of my tellers today,” she told me,

grimacing.

“Oh, Elena, I’m sorry. at’s got to suck.”

Jeff set her wine in front of her and I told him to put

it on the tab I was running. She took a healthy sip. “It

does. It does suck. It totally sucks. I didn’t want to do it,

but she left me no choice.”

“Why?”

“She can’t seem to tell time. She’s received three

warnings about being late in the morning and not

returning from lunch on time. e last time, I told her just

that: it was the
last
time. And then she was half an hour

late this morning.”

“I don’t know if I could do that,” I admitted. “I don’t

think I’m brave enough to fire somebody.”

“It’s not about bravery. It’s about it being in your job

description. It’s got to be done and you’re the man, so to

speak. You have to.”

“Ugh.”

“My sentiments exactly,” she said with a chuckle. “at

sums it up perfectly.” She took another sip of her wine,

then cocked her head slightly to the side and studied me.

“So.”

“So.”

“Hi there, Avery.”

“Hi, Elena.”

“I’m glad to be here with you.”

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“I’m glad to be here with you after a day like that.”

“Tell me about your job.” She took her jacket off and

slung it over the high back of the barstool. e electric blue

shimmered slightly in the dim lighting and was a

wonderful complement to her bronzed complexion as she

propped an elbow on the bar and her chin in her hand.

“What drew you to graphic design?”

“Color,” I answered honestly. “It was all about color for

me. Some people love words. Some people love the law.

Some people love food or politics or cars. I love color.”

“Interesting,” she said with a gentle nod. “What do

you love about it?”

Her eyes took in every expression I made, I could feel

them on me and it was simultaneously exciting and nerve-

wracking. I wet my lips and tried to explain my passion. “I

love the way it invokes a mood. It can draw your eye

immediately with its brightness, its volume. It can hide

something with its subtlety, make you skim right by and

not even notice. It can bring out feelings of happiness, or

sadness, or grief, or anger. I took a theater class in college

on stage lighting. It was amazing the feelings the lighting

director can cause in an audience just by using specific

colors or filters for specific scenes.”

“Blues and reds?”

“Generally, yes. But more specifically, oranges and

yellows and greens. Color affects mood in all kinds of

ways, ways we don’t even think about. It’s pretty cool.” At

that point, I worried that my babbling might be boring

her, but she continued to watch me intently as I spoke. I

liked her focus on me. It made me feel warm. Like orange

light.

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“You probably don’t have a favorite color, then, do

you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Really?” Her surprise was so cute.

“Red. I like red because it says so much, you know? It

can scream anger or rage. It can grab your attention with

its sheer brightness. Or it can be subtle, more of a brick

red, and just make you feel…warm all over. Content.”

“at is the most unique description of a color I’ve

ever heard.” Elena raised her glass. “To red.”

We clinked and sipped, our eyes locked the whole

time, a delicious tension stretched between us like taffy.

“How’s my man, Max?” I asked, worried that if we

stayed silent and staring, I might toss her onto the bar and

have my way with her.

“Max is great,” she said with the fond smile that

parents often get when talking about their children. “He’s

great.”

“You said he’s with his grandparents tonight? Your

parents?” At her nod, I asked, “Do they live close by?”

“In Webster. ey’ve got a big yard and a pool, so Max

spends a lot of time there in the summer. He’s done with

school next week, so he’ll probably be over there a lot

more. My mother spoils him.”

“at’s what grandmas are for, right?”

“at’s what she tells me,” Elena said. “Do you still

have grandparents around?”

“Yep. My Grandma King actually raised me. She lives

in one of those new-ish apartments over on Jefferson.”

“I know exactly where you mean. ose are nice.”

“She likes it a lot.” I could sense Elena wanting to ask

more, but for some weird reason, I didn’t want to talk

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about my upbringing. I liked hearing about her, so I

jumped in before she could formulate her next question.

“You have siblings?”

“ree. Two older brothers and a younger brother.

You?”

“Only child.”

“Oooo, spoiled.” She grinned.

“Just a little. And you should talk, being the only girl.”

I arched an eyebrow, daring her to tell me I was wrong.

She tossed her head back and laughed. “You are

absolutely correct. I was spoiled rotten by both parents.

And my brothers, though they’ll never admit it.”

“And I bet they still spoil you.”

“ey do. And they’re so good to Max. Two of my

brothers have kids, so Max has three cousins to play with.

ey’re a little older than he is, but they’re really good

about including him and teaching him the games they like.

It’s fun to watch.” Her smile turned wistful. “Sometimes it

seems like yesterday when my brothers were teaching me

how to swing a bat or throw a curve ball and now I’m

watching
their
kids teach
my
kid the same things and I just

shake my head. It’s almost surreal, how quickly time goes

by. You know what I mean?”

I nodded, trying hard not to blurt out the sentence,

“You can swing a bat and throw a curve ball?” I had a

lifelong love of all things softball, but imaging Elena in

full-on jock attire and smacking a line drive was almost too

much wonderfulness to bear at one time. I managed to

keep control of myself until the blissful feeling passed a

bit.

“So, you were raised by your grandmother?” She

emptied her glass and motioned to Jeff for refills.

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“Can’t slip anything past you, can I?” I joked.

“is isn’t going to be one of those dates where I do

all the talking—which I’m very good at, I’m sure you’ve

noticed—get home later, and realize I didn’t learn a thing

about you. So…spill.”

Her words were demanding, but her tone was not, and

I think that’s why I felt safe enough to come near a topic I

rarely broached. For whatever reason, I felt secure enough

with Elena to open up and talk.

“My mom was only sixteen when she had me,” I

began. “God, that sounds like the opening line to a young

adult novel, doesn’t it?”

“A catchy one,” Elena agreed.

“Anyway.” I cleared my throat. “I don’t think she and

my grandmother had a great relationship during my mom’s

formative years. Grandma was very driven, a career woman

in the days when career women were often frowned upon.

She had a full-time job, had my mom later in life,
and

brought home more money than her husband.”