Love Is...

by Haley Hill

  While Jed began loudly defining the different love languages and explaining what makes one of us feel loved might not do the same for another, I glanced to my side to see Dominic about to drift off. I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow.

  ‘The key to a happy relationship,’ Jed said, while pacing back and forth on the stage, ‘is to discover your love language and that of your spouse.’

  ‘Did he just say “spouse”?’ Dominic asked, rubbing his eyes.

  I jabbed him again. ‘Listen. This is important.’

  Soon after, we were instructed to pair off for a session entitled ‘Finding Your Love Language’.

  Dominic sat opposite me and then grinned. ‘So what makes you feel loved, Ellie?’ he asked with a double eyebrow raise.

  I bit my lip and thought for a moment.

  ‘Time,’ I said. ‘Someone spending time with me, wanting to be with me.’

  ‘Someone?’ Dominic asked, with another eyebrow raise. ‘Or Nick?’

  I tutted. ‘Nick, of course.’

  He crossed his legs and smirked. ‘Well, you said “someone”.’

  ‘Well, it’s obvious I meant Nick.’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘What else makes you feel loved? Flowers? Chocolates?’

  I scrunched up my mouth. ‘I suppose I like presents, but it’s more the gesture, the token, to show that he’s thinking about me.’

  Dominic smirked. ‘Who? Someone? Or Nick?’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘And you, what makes you feel loved, Dominic?’

  ‘Blow jobs,’ he said.

  I tutted. ‘Anything else?’

  He let out a sharp sigh. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.’

  ‘Isn’t now the time to think about it?’

  He looked down at the floor, then back up at me, a fleeting sadness preceding his smile. ‘What’s the point?’ he asked.

  I cocked my head and stared at him for a while. ‘What you said earlier, about your mother and your—’

  He interrupted me with a laugh. ‘I was just winding him up,’ he said, then he laughed some more.

  I continued staring at him, realising that the conversation had now reached a dead end.

  ‘So,’ I said, gripping my workshop notebook and pen and adopting a Jed Tandy–style demeanour. ‘Do you have a spouse?’ I asked, emphasising the word to make him laugh.

  He grinned. ‘Why? Are you interested?’

  I rolled my eyes again. ‘I’m married, Dominic. Did I forget to tell you that?’

  He sat back. ‘No, Ellie, you didn’t forget to tell me that.’ He lifted his arms up behind his head. ‘In fact, if I recall correctly, you told me approximately thirty seconds after we were introduced.’

  I felt my neck flush. ‘No, I didn’t.’

  He smirked. ‘Yes, you did. You said: “Hi, I’m Ellie, I’m married and I’ve been a matchmaker for five years.”’

  I frowned. ‘That was a weird way to introduce myself.’

  He laughed. ‘Yes, I thought so. I found it odd that you chose to prioritise your marital status over your profession too.’

  I frowned.

  Dominic laughed. ‘I just assumed it was an unconscious reaction to my good looks. “Wow, he’s super hot. I’m married. Must not have these thoughts. I’m married. God I want him. I’m married. I bet he has a huge…”’

  I smirked. ‘You’re not funny.’

  He grinned. ‘Then why are you smiling?’

  I sighed. ‘You want to know what I really thought?’

  He nodded.

  ‘I thought you were a privileged little prick who walked like he had a stick up his arse.’

  Dominic sat back and laughed. ‘Blow me,’ he said. ‘Eleanor Rigby swears. I never thought I’d see the day.’ He laughed some more and then his expression suddenly shifted. ‘Just for the record,’ he said, leaning forward, ‘I wasn’t asking you to blow me.’

  I giggled.

  ‘Although any offers would be gratefully received,’ he added.

  I raised my eyebrows. ‘So you don’t have a girlfriend then?’

  ‘You so want me, don’t you?’

  I sighed.

  He was still grinning. ‘No, I don’t have a girlfriend. I’m saving myself for you.’

  I sat back and stared at him for a while.

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, don’t even try to analyse me, Ellie. Poor Dominic had his heart broken and now he deflects any questions about love with crude innuendo and requests for oral sex.’

  I laughed. ‘Dominic, I’ve been matchmaking for ten years. I don’t have to analyse anything. I can read you like a book.’

  His eyes widened momentarily, then he sat back with his arms folded. ‘You know every good book has a killer twist, don’t you?’

  I smiled and then nodded.

  Once a now jaded Jed had concluded the afternoon sessions of the Love Languages conference, we took our goody bags, which comprised Jed Tandy branded materials and a signed copy of his Master the Language of Love handbook complete with DVD series, Dominic and I made our way outside.

  The air was icy and I pulled my coat in around me.

  ‘Fancy a bite to eat?’ Dominic asked. I could tell he was trying to be casual but there was an underlying awkwardness.

  I shook my head. ‘Nick and I are having a night in tonight.’

  Dominic nodded. ‘No worries,’ he said. ‘I’ll probably just head back to the hotel now anyway.’

  I grabbed my phone as Dominic walked away and dialled Nick’s number. It took twelve rings before he picked up.

  ‘Hey, babe,’ he said. I could hear music pumping in the background and squealing female voices.

  ‘Where are you?’ I asked.

  ‘Vodka Fusion. Work drinks.’

  ‘Oh right. Sounds like fun,’ I said, realising he’d clearly forgotten our planned night in. Or chosen to forget it because he was still annoyed.

  I held out for an invite, then the line began to crackle.

  ‘It will probably be a late one,’ he said between crackles. ‘Don’t wait up!’

  I stood on the cold stone steps and watched my breath clouding into the evening air. Since we’d arrived in New York, not once had Nick and I even so much as gone out for dinner together. So much for our fresh new start.

  I looked across the street and saw Dominic about to turn a corner.

  ‘Hey!’ I shouted. ‘Wait for me!’

  Chapter 19

  ‘I don’t mean to criticise your husband,’ Dominic said, as he took my hand and led me to the front of the queue, ‘but I can’t believe he hasn’t taken you to Sushisamba yet. What’s wrong with the man?’

  I shrugged my shoulders. ‘Who’s to say I couldn’t have brought Nick here instead?’

  He scrunched up his face. ‘A woman taking a man out for dinner?’ Then he shook his head. ‘That’s just wrong.’

  Dominic dragged me to the front of the queue and straight through the doorway. We were greeted by the front of house, who was six feet of Russian supermodel.

  ‘Table for two,’ Dominic said.

  She glanced at the queue, then back at Dominic. ‘You have a reservation?’ she asked in a tone generally reserved for gathering military intelligence.

  Dominic leaned forward and whispered something in her ear.

  She nodded and smiled. ‘My apologies, sir. Come with me, please,’ she said before walking ahead.

  As we weaved our way through the glitzy crowd, I leaned into Dominic. ‘What did you say to her?’ I asked.

  He smirked as we sat down. ‘I told her she could have my number.’

  I frowned and then laughed. ‘More like you told her your grandfather is the chief investor in the restaurant.’ Dominic laughed.

  ‘I told you I could read you like a book.’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said and then smirked.

  Straight away and without ordering we were presented with cocktails. I took a sip of mine and looked around, suddenly feeling conspic
uous in my dull grey work suit, which was creased from sitting all day. I glanced down and noticed there was a stain on the inside of my trouser leg: the result of an overzealous embrace from an empathetic delegate with an egg mayonnaise sandwich.

  Dominic must have noticed me trying to rub off the stain with my napkin because he reached for my hand and lifted it back towards my drink.

  ‘Relax,’ he said, with a soft smile. ‘It’s not like you’ve got anyone to impress, is it?’ He winked. ‘After all you’re married, don’t forget.’

  I smiled. ‘Marriage doesn’t save anyone from the humiliation of a greasy crotch stain,’ I said, and then took another sip of my cocktail. It tasted like chilled lychee heaven.

  The head of house, seemingly having abandoned her post as door monitor, placed menus in front of us. She leaned in extra close to Dominic so he had an uninterrupted view of her sculpted cleavage.

  Dominic did a double eyebrow raise as she walked away. ‘She’s really angling for my number, isn’t she?’

  I laughed. ‘So what did you really say to her?’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘It was as you said, I reminded her my grandfather paid her salary, of course.’ Then he grinned at me.

  I looked at him for a moment, trying to read his expression but I failed to glean anything other than genuine amusement.

  ‘Right,’ he said, suddenly breaking eye contact and picking up his phone. ‘This trip we’re going on.’

  He began scrolling through his phone. ‘OK, here it is. The travel plans.’ He looked at the screen, mumbling the destinations as he read. ‘Texas, Long Island, Iceland…’ Then he paused.

  ‘Why on earth has Mandi booked a retreat in Bali for a week?’ He glanced at me as though demanding an explanation. ‘We’re not here to find ourselves. We need to get results.’ He scowled at me. ‘What happened to the list I sent you?’

  I glanced to the ceiling and then back at him. ‘Mandi said it was too Western-centred. She insisted we balance it with some Eastern philosophies.’

  Dominic rolled his eyes. ‘Most Western practices are based on Eastern principles anyway. It’s not as though we’ve managed to come up with anything new.’ He sighed and then scratched his head. ‘Us Westerners just choose to evidence our research rather than rely on generations of inherited assumptions.’ He continued to read. ‘Ayahuasca,’ he said facing the phone to me. ‘What is that?’

  I squinted at the screen. ‘Oh yes,’ I said. ‘Mandi said it’s a therapeutic tea that the Peruvians drink. Apparently, you get to see inside yourself and it makes you a better person.’

  Dominic tapped on his phone. He frowned at the screen. ‘Ayahuasca is a hallucinogen, one which is illegal in most countries, it seems.’ He looked up at me. ‘Mandi wants us to take some crazy trip so we can hallucinate the answers on how to prevent divorce? What is wrong with her?’

  I narrowed my eyes. ‘Her? What’s up with you? How come this is all suddenly us?’

  Dominic shifted in his seat and then took a gulp of his cocktail.

  ‘You clearly need some supervision,’ he said.

  I frowned, wondering why everyone seemed to think I was incapable of conducting this research alone.

  The supermodel reappeared at our table.

  ‘I take your order?’ she purred at Dominic.

  Dominic glanced at me, then back at her. ‘We’ll have the fifteen-piece sashimi, lobster rolls, rock shrimp tempura and the pork belly lettuce wraps.’ He handed her the menus. ‘Oh, and the Moqueca Mista.’

  She nodded, her gaze lingering on Dominic, almost implying the threat of suffocation between her thighs if he didn’t reciprocate.

  He waved her away and then turned back to me. ‘I’m quite surprised you’ve been so passive in this whole process,’ he said. ‘You’ve got such strong opinions about everything else.’

  I frowned. ‘It’s not my fault I’m unfamiliar with the menu.’

  Dominic laughed. ‘I’m talking about the research. You were the one who was all gung-ho about finding a cure for divorce and developing advanced training for matchmakers. And now it’s come to it, it’s as though you’re delegating the process to everyone else.’

  ‘Oh I am, am I?’

  He nodded. ‘Why else would you let me and Mandi arrange your trip?’

  I took a breath. ‘I didn’t let you and Mandi arrange my trip. You foisted it upon me.’

  He leaned back. ‘Oh, come on, Ellie. You’re hardly the sort of person who lets things be foisted upon them.’ He paused for a moment. ‘If you were that way inclined I would’ve ordered the sea urchin.’

  I sighed.

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘it’s common knowledge that you and I haven’t seen eye to eye.’

  I raised my eyebrows.

  ‘OK,’ he said smiling, ‘it’s common knowledge that you hate me.’ He leaned back and smoothed down his shirt. ‘Although I stand by my hypothesis that you’re deeply attracted to me and you’re unconsciously attempting to drive temptation away.’

  I rolled my eyes.

  He continued. ‘And you’re letting me and Mandi…’ he paused ‘…who’s a raving loon at the best of times…’ he paused again ‘… and now fuelled by hormones…’ He looked down at his plate. ‘She’s positively mental. You should’ve seen the outfit she was wearing last week. My God.’

  I slurped the last of my cocktail and then gestured for the waiter to bring me some more.

  Dominic raised his eyebrows. ‘Thirsty, are we?’

  I smiled. ‘I need something to tide me over while I’m waiting for you to get to the point.’

  He laughed, then waved at the waiter too. ‘Wine list, please,’ he said. Immediately, the Russian supermodel breezed past and handed it to him, lingering gaze intensifying.

  Dominic glanced at it, then ordered an expensive-sounding Chablis. He turned back to me.

  ‘The point I am trying to make, Miss Rigby, is that you have spent the best part of a decade trying to find the secret to everlasting love, and now you’ve reached the final point, you are deferring responsibility.’ He folded his arms across his chest and looked at me. ‘Don’t you think that is a little odd?’

  I glared at him. ‘How can you accuse me of trying to defer responsibility when I’m the only one who’s done any research? I didn’t see you and Mandi in the bloody couples’ counselling vagina tent in Texas.’

  Dominic double blinked. ‘Well, firstly, Mandi and I are not a couple, so that would’ve been odd.’

  I nodded. ‘Odd like the couples’ coaching you and I just had with Jed?’

  Dominic laughed. ‘Yes, precisely. And secondly, what is a vagina tent?’

  ‘It’s a metaphor,’ I said, waving my hand dismissively.

  The waiter interrupted us by announcing the arrival of the food, and introducing each dish as though they were guests at a society ball.

  Dominic took his chopsticks and pointed them at me. ‘A metaphor that you deliberately used to distract me from my line of questioning.’

  I smiled. ‘I was simply making the point that I could not be accused of deferring responsibility when it is I who has conducted the research thus far.’

  Dominic dunked a piece of salmon sashimi into the soy sauce. ‘You may have conducted the research—’ he popped it into his mouth and chewed for a moment before swallowing ‘—however, you’re just meeting all the experts that Mandi and I lined up for you.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ I said, spearing some tempura. ‘The divorce lawyer wasn’t on your list.’

  Dominic took a long slow glug of wine. ‘We won’t find the right answers if we don’t ask the right people.’

  ‘We? What’s with all the we’s?’ I stared at him. ‘What I don’t get is why you suddenly give a shit.’

  Dominic sat back, looking a little startled.

  I continued. ‘The moment you joined the company, all you’ve cared about is the bottom line.’ I smeared some wasabi on a lobster roll, realising that perhaps the oxyt
ocin might be wearing off. ‘You’ve repeatedly discounted any areas of the business that focus on customer well-being or long-term satisfaction. And now, out of nowhere, you appear with a new-found, and quite frankly dubious, concern for our clients.’ I shoved the roll into my mouth and glared at him.

  He took another sip of wine, this time quick and fast. ‘Look, I understand it must appear like a complete turnaround—’

  ‘Yes, it does.’

  ‘This new service has the potential to be immensely profitable. Not only one-to-one coaching but also weekend retreats, even trips around the world for clients to find the answers themselves. We could treble our turnover in one year.’

  I rolled my eyes.

  Dominic continued. ‘Look, Ellie, I was brought into the business to make money for the shareholders, not to wrap the clients in cotton wool.’

  I sighed. ‘For a man with an MBA, it’s odd that you can’t see the connection between the two.’

  ‘The two what?’

  ‘Happy clients and healthy profits.’

  Dominic leaned forward and squeezed my hand. ‘I’m hesitant to blight your utopian view of the world, Ellie. But have you considered for a moment that perhaps by trying to prevent your clients from experiencing any heartbreak, you are in actuality stifling their growth?’

  I sat straight up. ‘You think heartbreak is a good thing?’

  He downed the rest of his wine. ‘Well, it’s certainly the best thing that ever happened to me.’

  I arrived home, unsure of two things: the whereabouts of my keys and the rationale behind us ordering a third bottle of wine. I rummaged in my bag, locating all manner of lost objects, not one of which could be used to access my house. After a while Nick came thundering down the staircase and opened the door.

  ‘Where the hell have you been?’ he asked, eyes squinting at the light.

  ‘Out,’ I said stumbling into the hallway. ‘I thought you were out tonight too?’

  He went to check his watch, only to realise he was wearing nothing but his boxers and a pair of socks. ‘Yes. I was out this evening. But not all bloody night. Ellie, it must be 4 a.m. Where have you been?’

  ‘Dominic and—’

  He sighed. ‘I might have known old slimy pants would be involved. Fabulous.’