Chapter Eight…
Back in the safety of my loft, I let the tears fall. Why did I think that I could do a fling? Because… other men never meant anything and they never came with a firm deadline. They all just seemed to run their course and fizzle out. Not with Nate. Nothing he did or said signaled an end in sight though it was looming like a big neon flashing light. Everything about Nate screamed that a lifetime with him would never be enough and an eternity without him would be far too long.
The worse part of our situation was that we were perfect together. We loved doing the same things; going to the beach, trying all different kinds of food, spending all day in bed snuggling, and even our rooftop attempts at stargazing with our pal Nash. Most of our casual times—when I wasn’t working at the café—were spent inside; at his loft or mine—more so at mine since Nate had uncovered my in-home music studio.
I was happy to curl up in a chair reading, studying, and sorting through my tablet filled with my beloved fashion magazines. He strummed, tickled my piano keys, mixed sound, or quietly wrote words while I was nearby, in the same room. I interjected when he asked for my opinion otherwise I remained quiet pinning photos or making fashion collages on one of my many apps which I sometimes submitted to sites. Last February my favorite blog Fashionista Forward used one of my collages for a Valentine’s Day posting and even thanked me—Evie Sandiego—my alias that I used on the internet for commenting rather than Evie from San Diego. I was so thrilled that I received a private email from their editor-in-chief, Chanel Devlin, that told me to keep them coming and that they loved to be informed about new products. I loved the look of the adorable chocolates I had sent them and continued to submit as asked. Being with Nate almost the entire time had slowed my submissions a bit. I was more interested in submitting to him instead.
With him in his own corner of the loft area, I had time to get back to my own schedule. And maybe it was for the best, he only texted me a few times, and then stopped when I didn’t reply. What could I say? I love you… I did, I loved him madly. But he didn’t want to hear that and I would never tell him. It appeared that an earlier ending was going to work better in the long run—just rip the bandage off, Evie and move on.
So I was back to my regular schedule—pre-Nate—working in the café, singing along with the music, enjoying one too many orgasm cookies supplied by our evil baker along with, sadly, coffee with lots of cream. I thought of giving it up, but I was addicted to it as much as I was to him—I could only give up one at a time.
“How’s Mr. With-Lots-of-Cream?” Something about that sounded so naughty the way Saylor called him that. Actually, most of the café girls and our chef Vin called him that ever since his loud outburst at open mic night.
“You smell good… like peach cobbler with a scoop of ice cream,” Marzi sighed and saved me once again from having to answer Saylor’s inquiry about my lack of a love life. “You have me craving that now. Pansie, tell Basil to bring some peaches, stat!”
“Sorry,” I laughed, “It’s my new lotion… all organic… I found this great shop.” I had bought it when Nate and I were apart, but I had forgotten all about it until I saw Rhett Scarlett products mentioned on Fashionista Forward.
“Oh, is it Rhett Scarlett?” Vivienne asked as she was waiting for Saylor to finish her latte. “I use only her products in my salon now and I sent her name along with mine into Fashionista Forward—they have both of us listed as of this morning.”
Quickly, I pulled my cellphone out of my apron pocket and scrolled to their site and sure enough Vivienne was listed as a Beauty Engineer, a title she dubbed herself. “I love that site. Congratulations!” I told her—I was truly excited for her.
“I should congratulate you too. I just found the site recently and looked all through it…” she paused looking suspiciously at me. “I see you contribute collages to them from time to time—you are Evie Sandiego aren’t you?” How she knew that, I wondered, and then she whispered, “I saw the name over your shoulder one time.” She was definitely nosey, but so nice. At least she hadn’t figure out anything else about me or at least she was keeping quiet about it.
“Look at this,” Vixen said showing her mini tablet screen to everyone. “Our Evie is quite famous on that site!” She was wearing a big smile on her pretty face.
“What other things are you doing behind my back?” Bossy-Pan turned toward me with her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face.
I could say the same about Pansie as well. She had not informed me that new equipment was being installed to the stage area. I hadn’t heard about any changes being made to enhance the area. I usually knew everything that had to do with things pertaining to open mic night. And yet I had no idea that the area was being outfitted with three brand new monitors giving performers the ability to have visuals going on in the background while they performed. I had seen that done at a few clubs—it was a pretty cool feature to offer up to each slot if they had their own graphics or wanted generic ones—that was an option as well.
It was when open mic night rolled around on the following Wednesday that I realized why it had been installed and by whom as Nate made his way to the stage. He was not on my list or, actually, he was—using an alias that I called to the stage. When he moved forward up onto the stage and took his place I moved to my usual spot at the back near our technician. My tech guy that was obviously also in on the ambush. With nowhere to go, I watched us appear on all three screens and listened to Nate sing his feelings about me… about us and tears streamed non-stop. He told of his love for me. How he hadn’t meant to fall in love with me, but what could he do when the most perfect woman for him came into his life unexpectedly. As the song continued with him telling of all the traits he fell for, he asked me to come home to Chicago with him. What the hell? We were from the same hometown… how could that be?
That open mic night turned out to be my last night and my goodbye party. Nate had contacted good ol’ Bossy-Pan and gotten her to agree to meet him privately. He told her how much he loved me and that he was pretty sure I felt the same about him. She agreed with him and then he laid out his plan to win me back along with donating the new video equipment to Cafélicious. She told him that she would go along with the plan but absolutely not to the donation—she would pay for the improvement. Nate told me that they compromised on that because he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I’m not sure what the final agreement entailed since Pansie also had to agree to allow my departure without notice—provided I said yes to his request.
My answer was a definite yes to following him if that was what it took for us to be together without a deadline. How could I complain about going home? I could always stay in my family home although I didn’t think that he meant for us to live separately since he didn’t even know that we were neighbors-of-a-sort in another city, as well. My nod when a spotlight hit me in the back of the room had Nate asking me to join him on stage for a duet. I wasn’t so sure about my answer to that but with the crowd and my café girls cheering, I had no other choice but to comply once again. I had to admit it felt pretty good to feel his arms around me when I stepped up… and oh, the kiss he gave me nearly had me falling off of the stage—his strong arms kept me steady. Then he strummed a few notes and I knew that I would be singing the same song I sang to him on our first open mic together… Just A Kiss and this time he took over the male vocals. We ended the song with him kissing me again to a roaring crowd. Thankfully, I had others ready to take the stage and I was able to escape to the back of the room—only not alone. Nate was at my side as he had been the first night and several that followed.
Done with my duties of the night, we were not allowed to slip out silently as we usually did after a quick clean up. No, it was then time for my big send off with all my close café friends in attendance. Champagne flowed thanks to a new sales rep named Darla who seemed to be making Cafélicious her second home—I had a feeling it had something to do with our handsome Vin, or maybe it was just his mad-cooking-skills. I could definitely see that attraction, I was going to miss his delicious comfort food. Truly, there wasn’t anything or anyone that I wasn’t going to miss. The café and people in it were like family to me over a little more than two years.
Ready to wrap up the night, we helped close up while waiting for our hired car. One too many glasses of bubbly, I wanted to be driven—no walking for me unless Nate planned to carry me. I think he too was in favor of getting me home to his place. I was sure he had a whole orchestration planned for our time between the sheets—I was right. With a click of a button, the loft was filled with soft music and he was pushing me down to sit on the bed. Only he didn’t join me. Instead, he got down on one knee and I thought maybe the effervescence of the champagne had me hallucinating—if that was even possible.
“Evie, I never wanted to love you. There wasn’t supposed to be anything more than fun between us. But I was a fool to think that. The minute I saw you at a glance my heart leapt in my chest. Then you appeared out of the shadows on stage wearing an orange beanie over a lovely shade of turquoise hair and I thought maybe I was seeing things, or wanting her to be you. Because there was that ache again gripping my heart. I went back to the café to confirm my assumption. Before I could fully ask you, your lips were over mine. It was official I had fallen but I still refused to believe that you were it for me. I told myself I could walk away but in the back of my head I knew that I never could. Minutes turned to hours, hours turned to days, days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and each second that ticked with you was the best moment of my life. My life can’t go on without you in it. Marry me, Evie.”