“But we’ll both be there, early, wildly hungover, but we’re cursed with an insatiable work ethic, are we not?”
“We are,” I agreed, cracking a smile. She got me. We were the same.
“Then yeah. I’ll bring you coffee,” she declared, a done deal. “Just say yes.”
“How do you know how I take my coffee?”
“Because I cared enough to ask the barista.”
“That’s kind of nice.”
“Don’t spread that around.”
“Never.”
“So I’ll see you in the morning,” she concluded.
I nodded, she smiled, and that was it. I discovered that night that Luna Soto and I could be friends. It turned out that when you opened your eyes to one person, you could see everybody else as well.
Eli was whiney about the lavender, wanted traditional first-aid cream with verified reviews and physician endorsement. But I explained that the oil was better, natural, and would heal faster. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll give you a hundred bucks.”
“I want a ticket forGiselle,”he countered.
“I’ll get you a ticket forGiselleanyway,” I assured him. “Two even, so you can bring a date.”
“I’ll bring my mom.”
My breath caught. His mother? “Two for sure, then.”
“And after, you can meet her and we could have a late dinner.”
I nodded quickly, this development the most promising of all. His mother.
He made a face. “Is that weird? Do you think that’s weird? Me just inviting myself and my mom to the ballet and then asking you to eat with us?”
“No,” I whispered. “I would love that. I miss mine every day.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I just—I would love to be mothered again.”
Eli scoffed. “Well, I’m telling her you said that, and when she finds out you need her…heaven help you. I’m Jewish, and my mother is a force of nature. I think they all are.”
“I can’t wait to meet her,” I said with a sigh.
Once I had him patched up, he stood and entertained me while I put the syrup in a glass bottle and made a lovely arrangement of limes and lemons and oranges. I added the lemon press on the plate and carried it out to the table, where Luna lavishly thanked me. When I returned to the kitchen, Maven and two other dancers from the company were there chatting up Eli. They were doing what you did when you were flirting. They touched his biceps, his chest, simpered and smiled and made direct, prolonged eye contact. I knew the signs, I wasn’t stupid. But I had the weirdest, strangest possessiveness about him already, so I crossed my arms and waited.
“What?” he asked, noticing me instantly and stopping all other conversation.
“I’m about to expire from starvation,” I announced with great flourish.
The flashing grin again. “Okay. Let’s go.”
He didn’t invite the women, just wished them a good night, then walked over to me and asked what I wanted.
“I’m a vegetarian, so your choices are limited. I’m not one of those long-suffering types who says, oh, it’s fine, I can get a salad anywhere. I’m not a huge fan of cold food.”
Eli chuckled. “I already know you’re not the long-suffering type.”