“You’re their redheaded Scot.”
“Or so the investor will think,” Evie sighed, “unless I open my mouth.”
Andy shrugged off the argument, as though it was not worth debating. “You just being in that room with his glasses on your pretty little face will seal the deal. There’s no need for you to stand up and make declarations.”
“Oh, right,” the redhead quipped, annoyed with his evidence, “so just sit pretty and keep my mouth shut.”
Andy landed her with a stern gaze. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“That’s what you said,”
“It is not,” He may have chuckled, but it lacked humour. “I said you were pretty. It was a compliment, and you somehow managed to make it an insult.”
The girl felt her anger flare as he made his defence and Evie knew it was misguided. Andy wasn’t the one she was upset with, she need not take it out on him. She was mad at herself for not knowing how to help Connie succeed.
“Look, you’re stressed, luv, I get it.” The voice on the other end was more caring than she deserved.
When she looked at the face on her phone again, her anger dissipated.
“You’re overcomplicating it. You being there for your dude is really enough. Don’t feel like you need to do anything else.”
A resigned sigh left her lungs, grating out of her in a groaning wheeze. She gave her face a cleansing scrub with her free hand, peering at Andy finally from between her split fingers. “I just…don't think it will make that big of a difference.”
“Sure, it will…”
“That’s not what I mean,” she quipped back, cutting his interjection in two, “I can’t be the face of Thistle.”
“Why would you think that…?” Andy’s voice questioned, suddenly small and quiet, thick with concern.
“I’m not a model! I’m not pretty! Sure, I have red hair, big deal! There are way more gorgeous girls out there with red hair, who are actually Scottish, that can actually model, for Thistle.”
“You just don’t get it,” the voice on the other end said, not patronizing but doggedly determined. Something in the sound of his words made her hand pull away from covering her face. “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. The only important thing is what the other person you choose to share the rest of your life with thinks. And if they think you’re beautiful, you’re gorgeous, you’re their everything, then you are all that matters to them. Up and down, inside and out, just the way you are.”
Evie was frozen by the words that still hung in the silence. Her watery eyes traced the face of her friend. He was always more understanding of her than anyone right next to her.
Andy licked his lips and ran a hand back through his long beachy waves. He sat back from the computer he was in front of and gave a weary sigh. He looked down at his hands in his lap, lost beyond the edge of the surface he sat at. “If he wants you there, then just being there is enough.”
A hand brought the blanket closer to her face, obscuring the tremble of her bottom lip. She gnashed her teeth down to secure it, as she batted her lashes and sniffed to ward off the tingling threat of tears that pricked at her sinuses.
Andy smiled then, his warm, generous smile that was like a comforting digital snuggle. “Now, tomorrow night, you should make sure you get there early.” He began to lecture her, taking on a nasally authoritarian voice of a wizened old scholar tired of dealing with the youthful inhibitions of his pupil.
Evie giggled into the blanket, watching him straighten his back and lift his nose into the air, drawing his mouth low into a thin line, “We both know your nerves, so bank on being ridiculously early. If you sit outside the door twenty minutes before everyone else, I’m sure that’ll do the trick. Crickey, make it thirty if that’s what you need.”
Andy knew her too well. “Yes, boss,” she snipped back, pursing her lips and giving him a lame salute.
“Hey, now,” he threatened, pointing at her, as his voice transitioned from one of a scholarly dignitary to that of a snappy commanding officer, “I won’t be takin’ any of your lip.”
The girl laughed and pulled the blanket down from her face, sticking her tongue out at the picture on her screen.
He gave a loud inhalation of disgust, bringing a hand to his chest, as he playfully menaced, “Don’t make me come over there, because I will!”
“I’d like to see you try,” she chuckled, as she took another sip from her forgotten tea.
◆◆◆
Andy had been all too right. On Friday, Evie’s nerves were crackling, and she still had fifteen minutes of the shift left to go. Ian had just left, having finished up the stacks of work orders to be cut. The piles were now on her work station, ready to be called for patient pick up. That would have to wait until tomorrow. She was too tense to do it now.
Evie had gotten everything squared away for the evening, and now she sat watching the time on her phone, chewing on the corner of a nail. Once six o’clock hit, she would close-up shop, call a cab, and hoof it over to the hotel for the meeting. She might be forty minutes early, but she could relax.
Her phone vibrated in her hand as a badge appeared at the top of the screen.
A.W. – Remember to be ridiculously early, so you aren’t a nervous wreck, luv!
It vibrated again.
A.W. – You got this!
Evie texted him back a quick thank you, as the front door opened. The redhead nearly dropped her phone as she sprang up from her chair behind the reception desk. Embarrassed to have been caught texting, she called out a snappy salutation.
“Connie,” she breathed, his name coming out of her like a breathy sigh.
The raven-haired man lopped up to the desk in quick strides, a hand reaching out to cup her face as he closed the distance between them. Their mouths met in a chaste kiss over the top of the desk, and when they parted, he began his interrogation. The questions came in rapid succession. “You have what you need? Remember which hotel we’re at? How are you getting’ there?”
“Yes, yes, and don’t worry. I will manage,” Evie answered.
Connie did not oblige her with what she wanted, but his excited smile sufficed for the time being. “I’ll see you there then. Ian and I will get the room set up for the presentation. Mara and Becca are meeting us there.” He explained, his words thrumming with the rush of nerves and adrenaline that lit his actions.
“You’ll be magnificent,”
“What frames are you wearin’?” he asked her, his eyes moving to the turquoise plastic currently on her bridge and then dropped to the deep plum dress.
Serena had made her go shopping that week, helping her to pick out a cute, professionally cut peplum- waisted dress to pair with the black pumps that had almost cost her an ankle at Rockstar’s pub. His look said what he hadn’t—he didn’t approve.
“What frames are you wearing?” she teased, pointing out that he didn’t even have a pair on yet.
His chuckle was that you-caught-me kind of laugh. His smile spread, dimpling his cheek as he looked down his thin nose at her. “The white and green one,” He answered, flapping the end of his tie at her, “to match this here noose ‘round my neck.”
“Mmm, good choice,” she purred, using the tie to haul him in for another kiss.
His mouth was not as tender as she would have liked, and when the door alarm sounded, they flew apart. Connie made a strange choking sound, adjusting the tie at his throat, as Evie greeted their customer.
“Hi, Donna, how are you?”
“I’ve been better, deary,” the nurse replied, handing her glasses to Evie, “Can you adjust these for me? I took a wallop to the head from a braw laddie the other day.”
“Of course,”
Connie made his way to the front door, turning around long enough to mouth the words ‘yellow frame’. Good thing she had packed her other two pairs in her purse. She gave him a discreet wave before he climbed into a cab with Ian.
Donna settled
herself at a dispensing table, purse in her lap, as the optician worked on straightening her frame. It was not all that bad, given the description the pediatric nurse had given her. Evie was able to rectify the slight twist in the temple hinge without much effort and then she came around the work station to hand the frame back to its owner. Donna slipped it on, the nose pads finding the right spot.
The redhead bobbed her head lower to get a good look at the woman straight on. She checked the balance of the frame front from eye to eye, straightening as she announced, “All better.”
“Feels much better! Thank you.” Donna praised her as she twisted her head from side to side in front of the mirror. “I was hoping’ ta try on that other frame again while I’m here.”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” Evie agreed. She went to the frame boards and found the pomegranate coloured frame with ease. She returned it to the woman, enticingly inquiring, “Thinking that you want to get a second pair?”
“Well,” Donna scoffed, in a teasing tone, as she tried it on, “Evelyn, that minx bought two! And now she’s filchin’ all the compliments.”
The friendly competition between the two made Evie laugh as she sat down at the desk. She reached for the laptop that was no longer there. The redhead sighed. She had already shut down the computers and locked them up for the end of shift. She would have to put the order through on the front computer. A little bit more complicated but doable.
“It’s not a problem. I have everything on the computer, ready to go.” Evie reminded Donna as she fetched the frame for her to try on.
“Was this the colour that I chose?” the nurse asked, scrutinizing her every angle with the frame on in the mirror by the frame boards.
“Yes. Just lovely, isn’t it?”
“Hmmm,” Donna mused, in a rather unpleasant tone.
Evie felt her teeth sink into her lip hard and fast. This was not what she needed right now. She needed to be out of the shop and in a cab, but she couldn’t kick Donna out! Not when she was prepared to purchase a second pair.
Donna asked to see the other colours that the frame came in and Evie cursed her unfortunate luck with a big old smile on her face. Obliging, she gathered the glasses. It sucked to be so irritated with a process that she usually loved. They tried on all the variations and then started creating new combinations, finally settling on one that was new and unique. Satisfied, Donna gave Evie a grateful hug, thanking her for her patience.
“Goodness me, deary, I have kept you well after hours!” Donna exclaimed in earnest.
“It’s alright,” Evie lied, “I’m just glad that we found the perfect pair for you.”
“Me too,” Donna chirped, her eyes crinkling slyly, “Evelyn will be so jealous!”
The girl gave the older woman her receipt and walked her out of the store. When Donna was out of site, Evie threw the lock and flew into action. She dashed about the store, pushing aside the frame parts at the work station to tidy up the next day, reprinting the days end paperwork, and quickly shutting down the computer. She grabbed her coat and purse, shut the lights off, and turned on the alarm before stepping out and locking up.
With a stroke of good luck, a cab was coasting by. With flailing arms, Evie flagged them down and jumped in. She hastily gave the address of the hotel, imploring the cabbie to hurry. She reached for her phone to check the time and found it missing.
Evie gave herself a furious patdown, searching every pocket, every nook and cranny. Nothing. In a frenzy, she rummaged through her bag. Still nothing.
Cursing, she remembered seeing the phone beside the front computer.
Evie leaned forward to check the time on the cabbie’s dash, only to find it obscured by the timer and counter. “Do you have the time?”
The response that the haggard man in the front seat grunted back was not at all what she wanted to hear. It was nearly seven. She was not sure how long it would take to get to the hotel, but she was pretty sure that she would be late. Not too late, but late was late! A lump swelled in her throat as she closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the seat. Her grit teeth kept a vexed groan from escaping.
There’s nothing you can do about it, Evie, she reminded herself, At least Donna bought. You have a reason for being late. Won’t make up for it, but better than nothing.
Berating herself, as she thought of Connie’s gaze skewering her as she walked through the door, she remembered his last comment to her. What frame would she be wearing? Did it really matter? She had thought that the turquoise went nicely with deep plum of the dress and the dark cap sleeve blazer she wore with it. Serena, her newly crowned personal stylist, had agreed with her, but the yellow frame was what Connie had asked for.
The girl reached into her purse and pulled out one of two frame cases. She switched the frames, sliding the yellow one into place on her bridge, as she felt the cab decelerate. Her head bobbed up, eyes searching for the hotel, finding only the red tail lights surrounding them. Then she saw the yellow flashing lights of construction and a peevish groan escaped her.
Seven came and went, the minutes slipping past like sand through her fingers, as she fidgeted with the hem of the tight-fitting dress. Her molars ground with impatience.
Not your fault, can’t help it, marched through her head, a mantra to keep her nerves from fraying beyond repair, as they finally pulled under the hotel portico. Evie passed her credit card to the cabbie, hassling the man to hurry up. The driver apparently used to being hustled by busy professionals, merely flipped her the bird and took his time finishing the payment.
Evie snatched her card back and flung open the door to jump out. As her ankle teetered, she remembered that she was wearing pumps. The redhead took a moment to steady herself on the heels, cursing Serena’s fashion-sense, before she rushed as fast as she could manage. With her heart thudding furiously behind her ribs, she pressed the elevator button. It lit up, and she mashed it five more times, willing the damn thing to arrive already.
You’re fine. Everything will be just fine. You’re here now. You are getting there as fast as you can. No one will even notice you slip in. It will be just fine, Evie told herself.
When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, she stepped inside alone, pressing her floor. The door did not seem to want to close, so the girl punched the door button with her fist. The elevator gave a protesting ding and finally, the doors obeyed.
Evie was carried upwards, as her mind and heart thundered, entirely out of control. Everything was not fine! She felt like her skin was on fire, stung by a million little bees, her muscles tight and sore and unwilling to cooperate. Worst of all was not being able to check the time.
Stop it, she chided herself, as her fingers clenched into tight little fists. She took another cleansing breath. She focused on not charging into the meeting like a panicked animal, breathing heavily and foaming at the mouth.
The elevator dinged. The doors opened. The conference room was directly in front of her.
Evie took another breath. She could hear a voice inside—Connie’s deep timbre as he presented. Evie hated how her heart hammered against her ribs, threatening to break through its enclosure. She hated how clammy hands were as she gently pushed the door open.
The presentation hitched as she slipped inside. She met Connie’s gaze first, knowing her face was beet red, as all the other heads in the room turned towards her intrusion. This didn’t hold Connie back from smiling, as he kindly invited her to sit. The redhead gave an apologetic look towards the investor.
The man’s eyes were already on her, intense, relieved, and…familiar?
Evie’s feet staggered to a stop, her brain sputtering, unable to process what her eyes took in. Evie had expected to see grey hair and wrinkles about guarded eyes over a thin-lipped mouth and a no-longer-as-strikingly-chiselled bum-chin. A businessman, hardened by years brokering money-making deals, seasoned in the ways of skewing a contract to his favour. Instead, the man was way younger than she had expected, handsome and tri
m in a smartly fit suit, with blond waves pulled back neatly to reveal eager green eyes over the curve of a cocky grin.
Andy…
The name echoed in her mind—right before she heard the slap of her purse hitting the floor, followed by the unmistakable skittering of its spewed contents.
Reacting convulsively, she bent to gather her things… and failed. The tight-fitting dress pulled and popped uncomfortably at the waist. She re-maneuvered herself into a closed legged squat to reach the floor. Her hands darted out to shovel her belongings back into the gaping maw of her bag, as she interrupted Connie’s ongoing presentation with her hasty apologies.
Mara scoffed, as Evie rushed to the closest chair and thrust herself into it. With her head downcast, she heard Connie slowly get on with the presentation.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, it’s not Andy! Andy is half-way around the world, in the waves, having the time of his life while you’re here being an absolute idiot!
A bottle of water slid into Evie’s periphery. She turned to see Ian, nodding her thanks as she took the bottle. Her hands were trembling so furiously she struggled to open the top, and when she did, she almost choked as she tried to swallow the water. Her throat felt swollen, gritty like sandpaper and thick. The water was too cold, shocking her system.
Evie kept her head down. Even though she refused to look at the young investor, her mind unhelpfully recalled his image. No matter how many times she erased him and started over, the result was the same—beach waves tamed into a sleek, professional man bun and a bespoke suit instead of swim trunks.
A tie, she questioned, seriously? Andy would never! He’s way too irresponsible. He’s never held a job down for more than a couple weeks! There’s no way… just no way this can be Andy.
Evie considered how long it had been since she had her eyes checked. Mentally scheduling herself in with Mara, hoping to resolve the erroneous prescription as soon as possible, her more rational brain seemed to come back to her. It had been less than five months since her last check, at which her prescription had not changed. Dr. Reynolds had been kind enough to give her an exam before they parted ways, so, her rational brain supplied, her eyes were not mistaken.
Seeing Colour Page 24