by Colet Abedi
“So I met this guy … ” His voice was giddy, filled with excitement.
“What guy? You have a boyfriend,” I reminded him. I loved his ex, even though the two never seemed to go a week without a fight.
“I know, Sophie. But this guy, there’s something about him. I felt like I knew him. I’ve never really experienced anything like it before.”
“Maybe you do know him. You are the mayor of West Hollywood,” I reminded him, hoping my voice didn’t sound full of censure, even though I wasn’t very happy about him looking at other people when he was still in a committed relationship.
“No. I would remember. I don’t know how to explain it.” Erik’s voice was soft, so different from his usual confident tone. “I know I’m with Miguel and I love him. I’d never do anything to hurt him, but something kind of called to me. Don’t judge me.”
“I would never judge you,” I told him, because I knew he wouldn’t cheat on Miguel.
It was three years before Erik and Orie were both free and clear and could be with each other. They had kept in touch, ran into each other a few times at various events, and, after they finally got together, both of them had told me that they knew their time would come.
It’s funny that now I finally know what Erik meant when he said he just felt drawn to Orie. It makes absolute sense to me.
“You guys are making me blush,” Erik interrupts my trip down memory lane. Erik blushing is about as possible as a pig flying.
“As if.” I laugh.
“I can be shy,” Erik says defensively. “It’s happened. Once. Twice, maybe.”
“I’m not going to respond to that, babe.” Orie sounds amused. “I’ll let you go on living in your dream world.”
Erik pinches his cheek then looks over at me with a serious expression. Crap, here comes the lecture, I think.
“Alright, you need to go to your room and stay there. Don’t jump in the shark-infested waters outside your bungalow. Don’t call him. Don’t even move beyond the ten-foot radius of your bed and deck. And for the love of God, shave your legs.”
Orie turns up the volume on the iPod and starts dancing around the bungalow in excitement and I can’t stop the adrenaline rush that comes over me. The countdown for the evening has just started.
I used the opportunity to get out my sketchpad and pencils and draw my view of the ocean. Landscapes are one of my favorite things to paint. I love to add a bit of my own magic to the beauty that is already there. I become obsessed with getting the color of the water right, the dreamy current. It all has to be perfect. As usual, I quickly lose myself in my work. Time and place seem to disappear when I sketch or paint.
These are the moments when I realize how much I need my art for my sanity and happiness. It’s been my passion my whole life. It’s also been my secret sanctuary. I get such a feeling of fulfillment that I can’t even put it into words. I feel peace when I paint. It’s like I was born to do it. If I’m honest with myself, I knew when I enrolled in law school that I would eventually drop out.
I never believed I would last in that cut-throat environment. There was no joy in it for me. Yes, I could get the grades. I understood the law but I was bored and scared—frightened of how it would bring me a kind of existence that would inevitably make me unhappy.
I remember sitting in a Torts class, eyes glazed over, and feeling overwhelmed and desperate. Is this going to be my life?, I thought in horror. What if this monotony was what I had to wake up to every day? It was too depressing to consider. It was so completely unappealing to me that I ended my torture then and there. I got up during the professor’s coma-inducing lecture and walked out and never looked back.
It was the happiest day of my life.
And this is the part my parents cannot understand. They think passion can be found in any profession. That you can miraculously make yourself love something because it is the responsible thing to do, the right thing to do. But it’s simply not true. Passion can’t be willed or found. It just is. And I think it works that way in every part of your life, from jobs, to friends, to relationships. The spark has to be there or you’ll just be lost. You have to love what you do and who you’re with. And want it every day. Otherwise your life will be one, big, empty void and you’ll search for happiness and never understand why it keeps escaping you.
The idea of spending my life practicing law was unacceptable. And now more than ever, being with a man just because it’s what society or my family tells me to do is appalling. Now more than ever I’ve felt something different with a complete stranger and I know better now. I can thank Clayton for this miracle. In a single moment, with a single gaze, he showed me what I had been searching for, what I had been missing all my life.
Speaking of Clayton …
I blush at the thought of the coming evening.
I’m apparently prepared to jump into bed with a man I just met. Oh, a nun would jump into bed with Clayton, I tell myself defensively. I know there’s no way in hell that I’m the only woman who would act this way. Anyone would. I think about his kisses and the way his hands feel on my body and desire washes right over me.
Stop, Sophie.
I try to concentrate on the soothing sound of the ocean and not a bed. Anything but a bed. Let me clarify, a bed with Clayton in it. Sigh. I know this is going to be an impossibility.
I’m jolted out of fantasyland by the loud ring of the phone and I’m glad it stops the sinful thoughts in my mind. I run inside from my deck and grab it, thinking that it’s Erik and Orie, ready to come over and turn me into Cinderella on her way to the ball.
“Yes, I shaved my legs.”
“They felt soft enough to me this afternoon.”
Damn.
Why don’t I think before I speak? I’m too embarrassed for words. Why do I continue to be such an idiot?
“What else have you been up to?” he says into my silence.
Oh, you know, just fantasizing.
About you.
Lord.
“Um. I’ve been sketching.” I try to sound cool.
“Can I see?” He sounds genuinely interested.
“I don’t show anyone my work until I’m done.”
“I’m not anyone.”
And there goes my heart again—banging against my chest. No, he’s not just anyone. He’s the man who is dominating all my thoughts. Not letting me concentrate. Just making me think about him in all sorts of scandalous, X-rated ways.
R-rated. Okay, PG-13, but a PG-13 with lots of action.
“Admit it, Sophie,” he continues.
I give him what he wants. “I admit it. But I’m a little apprehensive about showing people my work.”
“You’re shy about a lot of things. And I think you’re perfect. I have no doubt that your art is as well. I want to see what you do.”
He does know what to say to put me on cloud nine.
“I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll have my way, you know.” I don’t mind the arrogance I hear in his voice because I know he’s probably right, but I’m also wondering if this phrase is his company slogan.
“We’ll see,” I say.
“I can be very persuasive.”
“I have no doubt.”
Clayton laughs before he continues, “I took the liberty of getting us all a table together. I hope you don’t mind.” The funny thing is, I don’t really think he’d care if I did mind, because he already did it. But as it happens, I’m happy he’s taken the decision out of my hands.
“That sounds great.”
“Reservations are for seven. Shall I swing by your place and pick you up?” I smile at his words. It sounds so formal.
I can’t believe I have to say no to him, but Erik and Orie are my dates to the party. I tell Clayton and he actually sighs. There’s an uncomfortable silence before he says, “You’re very frustrating.”
“I don’t mean to be. I came here with them. They dropped everything to come with me so I wouldn’t be alo
ne. All because I said that I needed my friends.”
“I know,” he finally says after what seems like an eternity. “But I’m not a patient man, Sophie. I can let them escort you down to the beach, if they must. After you arrive, you’re all mine.”
I like the sound of that.
“And Sophie?”
“Yes?” I say anxiously.
“You and I are having dessert in my villa after.” His voice is so sure. “Alone.”
Holy.
Shit.
At exactly seven o’clock I’m staring at myself in the full-length mirror, totally amazed at what I see. My loving friends have outdone themselves. The dress, is long, white, and flows whimsically in romantic waves around my body. It fits beautifully, but it’s just a little too long. There’s a bit of a train that adds to the goddess look that Erik and Orie say they were going for. The material is almost sheer and gives a hint of the outline of my body as it drapes around me. It’s strapless, fitted at the top, then cascades to the ground. My tan compliments the dress perfectly. They were so right! I do look a bit like a Greek goddess.
Orie has styled my hair, letting it tumble in loose curls down my back but giving it a beachy, wind-blown look so it doesn’t seem like I’m trying too hard, or so he says. I opted to put on only a bit of mascara and lip gloss, because my color is perfect from my new tan. I’m so flushed from excitement that I don’t need any blush. Erik moves up behind me in the mirror. He’s wearing all white as well, as is Orie.
“You look stunning, Sophie. Just stunning.” He puts his arm around my shoulder. “I think I’m going to cry.”
Orie joins us. “Our girl is all grown up.”
I watch as the two of them admire their handiwork. They are obviously very pleased with what they see.
“You guys are too funny. Thank you, thank you, thank you for this incredible dress and for making sure everything is perfect. A girl can’t ask for two better friends.” My voice is hoarse with emotion.
“No, she can’t,” Erik agrees.
“Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I tell them sincerely.
“Neither do I.”
Orie narrows his eyes at Erik. “Must you detract from a sentimental moment? She’s trying to be sweet and emotional.”
“I’m only agreeing with her,” Erik says.
I can see the twinkle in his eyes and I laugh. “Sophie knows how much we love her. She knows how much she means to us.”
I’m touched by the emotion I hear in his voice. He is my best friend. Through thick and thin, he’s always been there for me. Through all the years we’ve known each other he’s never questioned why I had to see him immediately or the amount of times I cried about my parents or Jerry, which would have driven any other man to drink. He just listened to me. I know I can always count on him. In the chaotic world we live in, this kind of friendship is invaluable.
“You know how much I love you too.” I say as the tears well up in my eyes.
“Don’t cry and smear your mascara,” Orie commands as he pulls me in to give me a kiss.
“I won’t,” I blink back the water in my eyes.
Erik holds out his hand.
“Shall we?
I gladly take it and follow the guys out of my bungalow. They were totally cool with sharing a table with Clayton and his friends. In fact, Erik promised to do some investigative work and try to get as much information on Clayton as he could, especially after Clayton and I left, which Erik was sure would happen. I didn’t tell the guys about Clayton’s plans for “dessert” because I didn’t want the added pressure that would come with them knowing. I promised myself I would not think about being alone with him, or have any expectations. Who knew what would happen? What if the islanders are right? What if the world ends tonight? At this party? One can never be too sure.
We make our way toward the white sand beach and I’m awestruck by the magical ambience that the hotel staff has created. Candles line the beach and look like shimmering stars on the sand as Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwi’ole echoes through the night. God, I love this song. It always strikes a chord with me and brings only happy thoughts to mind. The tables have been set along the water’s edge so everyone can experience the allure of the Maldives. It’s almost like a fantasy. There are already many people hanging out by the water or seated at their table. We stop on the sand when we’re about twenty feet or so away from the tables, just to take it all in.
“It looks like a dream,” I whisper.
“Kind of feels like one,” Erik answers as he squeezes me tightly. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget this night.”
“Me neither.”
“Act cool, Sophie baby. He’s staring right at you,” Orie whispers softly. “And from the look he’s giving you I think we did a damn good job,” Erik says with a smile.
My heart rate accelerates from their words and I immediately search the tables for any sign of him. I zero in on him instantly. Oh, my. Yes, he certainly does like what he sees. His friends are chatting around him but he’s ignoring everything they’re saying, because his gaze is fixed on me. He’s leaning back in a chair just taking me in. I notice, with some embarrassment, that his friends are now all looking at me as well. I try to ignore them and focus on Clayton, who is too handsome for words. He’s wearing tan linen pants and a crisp white linen long-sleeved shirt. It’s unbuttoned at the top, exposing a part of his chest.
Suddenly he stands and starts to walk toward me.
“The man’s got style,” Erik says as Clayton reaches us. I’m secretly pleased because I know a compliment from Erik is not easily earned.
“Hi,” Erik says politely.
“Erik. Orie.” Clayton answers cordially, then reaches out his hand for me. I walk to him without hesitation. “You look lovely, Sophie. Exquisite.”
Lord. His mom must have really taught him well. Or maybe his nannies.
“Thank you. You look really beautiful.”
Orie coughs, I know, to cover his laughter at my somewhat lame reply. I flush with embarrassment. Well, shit, the words do just seem to tumble out of my mouth. I’m okay with it, though. Shouldn’t he get a compliment from me, too?
Clayton pulls me away from my friends and up close to him. I can tell he likes what I said by the way his eyes light up and look over my face caressingly. I smile shyly.
“We’ll just go on over and join everyone. Don’t mind us,” Erik says behind me. I can hear him mutter something about manners to Orie. I smile at Clayton and roll my eyes.
“Did you miss me, Sophie?”
“Yes.” The words come out before I can stop myself. Talk about
desperado.
“Good.” Is that all I get? Clayton smiles at my look, then leans down to kiss me. There’s an urgency there that tells me what he failed to say.
“Shall we join our table?”
Our table? I like the sound of that. “Yes, that sounds lovely.”
He takes my hand in his and we make our way back to the group. Elizabeth smiles at me warmly, standing to embrace me.
“What a stunning dress! Did you buy it in the gift shop? I feel like I saw it when I went in there yesterday for some suntan lotion.”
“Yes. Erik and Orie treated me. I’m very lucky to have such wonderful friends,” I tell her. “You look so pretty, Elizabeth. Your dress is incredible. I love the color.”
She blushes and waves off my compliment. “I don’t look like you. I’m dying over your dress. I wonder if they have my size?”
“It was the last one,” Erik tells her as he takes a seat. He and Orie are across the table and a few seats down. He checks out her short green dress in a second says, “Versace?”
Elizabeth nods in excitement. Erik knows how to make a woman obsessed with him.
“I usually don’t go for something so loud, but I thought, why not give it a try?”
“It’s a great fit for you,” he compliments her. “Love the fabric and the color
goes perfectly with your blonde hair.”
I watch Elizabeth bloom like a flower from Erik’s praise. He can make you feel so secure; it is one of his many talents. It’s probably why so many Hollywood starlets love to work with him. I’ve seen him do it with women who are afraid they’ve lost their youth and women who are overweight. It’s his way. How he makes someone feel. Like you’re the most special person in the world. And the thing is, he genuinely means it.
I look over at what seems to be an angry Jane and wonder if she always has that pinched grimace on her face. Does she ever smile? How on earth did they all become friends? Elizabeth is so pleasant, so nice. Jane is just a pill. She reminds me of the Debbie Downer character on Saturday Night Live.
Luckily, I’m saved from wondering about her any longer because Clayton takes me to the head of the table and pulls out a chair for me on his right. When we sit, he takes my hand again. I know I must be smiling like a loser, but I just don’t care. I see that Clayton and his friends have been drinking champagne. Clearly, the party’s already started.
“More drinks for the table?” Clayton asks the group politely.
“For sure. I say let’s start this end of days party with shots of lemon drops,” Orie says. I love him. He must have read my mind.
“Here, here,” Eduard agrees.
“Let the games begin,” John seconds. My gaze meets Erik’s and he raises a brow. I know what he’s thinking. And yes, I agree with him; a shot is exactly what I need right now. I am a giant mass of quivering nerves.
“What would you like, Sophie?” Clayton asks me quietly, leaning in.
“I’ll just have what the table is having, thank you,” I respond politely.
“Not tonight.”
I let him see my frown.
“I’m having a shot, Clayton.”
He actually has the audacity to smile. I get a nice view of his perfect white teeth and full, sensuous lips. I lose my stomach. I wonder if I’ll ever become accustomed to looking at him. Probably not.
“I like the way you say my name.” His voice is seductive, his eyes, glued to my lips. He likes the way I say his name, I think dreamily.