by Haley Travis
Absolutely. No question.
I opened my laptop and searched for Erlik Stone. There weren’t any. I searched for Eric Stone. There were dozens until I added the word “construction”. Then there was only one in Toronto.
"Sweet fancy dancers,” I muttered.
It turns out that my accidental pick up wasn't just some guy.
Eric had said that he and his sister ran Two Stones – a corporation that oversaw building projects. More specifically, they made incredible office towers all across North America. He really was the head of the company. I didn't think he was lying, but people often exaggerate. If anything, he seriously downplayed his position.
I could tell by his condo and that building that he was obviously wealthy, but this was a bit much to take in. My brain just couldn't absorb it.
I'd never cared much about money, as long as I had enough to take care of myself. It was the power that came with extreme wealth that was a bit strange for me to consider. I searched again until I found a photo attached to the name and title. Yes, that was definitely him.
Slumping onto my bed, I tried not to cry. Staring out the window, it only took about twenty seconds for me to fail spectacularly. Fat tears dripped down my face as I thought about all of the lies and manipulation from my ex, Andy.
In the beginning, I was a bit surprised that he seemed so eager to date me. A month later, I had thought that we really clicked. He was my first real boyfriend in every possible way.
Sure, I didn't like the way he talked down to me, or the way I seemed to be number seven or eight on his list of priority people. But he was usually there for important things.
Then when my Mom was in the hospital, and I needed him most, I found out the truth. He had been dating me because he was trying to get promoted at work. He thought that since the company was so vocal about their family values that he should have a steady girlfriend to show how wholesome he was.
Using someone to further their career was something that happened in cheesy soap operas. But I overheard him talking to his friend about it.
Andy had gone to get us some coffee while we were in the waiting room of the hospital after my Mom’s hip replacement surgery. After a while, I came to look for him, and overheard him on the phone with his dudebro, Chad.
He was going on about how he found a much hotter girl who would be a better fake girlfriend, and then fiancé. He went on to describe their existing sugar baby arrangement that would suit him much better, rather than having to deal with my apparent neediness. But he would wait a day or two to break up with me, since I seemed so worried about my Mom.
The way he had described me made me feel more pathetic, lost, and alone than I ever had in my life. Not exactly what I needed when my Mom was being wheeled into recovery.
I never understood the concept of a broken heart before that day. I thought it was a poetic turn of phrase. Something abstract.
When I discovered the man I thought I'd loved had been using me, and was about to throw me away like trash, my heart didn't break, exactly. It vaporized. It was replaced with a dark, heavy cloud that sat in my chest, poisoning my blood with every breath.
It took six months to be able to look at myself in the mirror without wanting to punch it. It took journaling, kickboxing classes, and endless wine-soaked tear-stained nights with my girlfriends to finally consider putting myself out there again someday.
When I went out dancing with Kelly, I’d finally forced myself to look at men again. I had no way to know that I’d literally stumble into a man who would have been absolutely perfect for me if not for his name.
The universe has a sick, twisted sense of humor about some things.
Now all I could do is avoid Eric, and know that someday, there was hope that my heart might heal enough to let someone in for more than one wild night and morning.
At least there was hope. That was always important.
~ Chapter 8 ~ Eric ~
* Desperation *
After sending Eden several texts and not hearing back, I sent her just one a day. Something chatty and light. I didn’t want to sound desperate, even though I obviously was.
By Wednesday night I was losing my mind. I didn’t want to obsess over her, but I couldn’t help it. There was no way I could go back to my regular life. I needed Eden.
Stepping outside of myself, I was fully aware of how nuts that sounded. If a buddy of mine came to me and explained this situation, I’d tell him to try texting her again next week, then let it go and move on.
There was no way in heaven or hell I was going to let Eden go.
I went home from work a bit early to sit in the center of my living room in sweat pants and a tank top, likely looking disheveled and pathetic. My giant sketchpad was always how I brainstormed things. Somehow scribbling and making a mess helped me think.
She didn’t even tell me her last name. How could I not have gotten that information? I was normally extremely detail-oriented.
But until she was about to leave, there was zero doubt in my mind that I’d be seeing her again within a day or two.
I shut my eyes and tried to focus. All I could think of was the feeling of her skin. The way she was so polite until we were naked. She seemed so shy at first, then with the slightest encouragement, she blurted out that she needed me.
Holy shit, that was officially the hottest moment of my life. Feeling her surrender to the moment was more satisfying than my own climax, which was mind-scrambling, for the record.
Focus. Serious brainstorm time. It was effective with projects at work. This was much bigger, much more important. What clues did I have that would help me find her?
While we were joking about the dreadful music at the club, she mentioned a band she liked. I looked them up earlier, and they weren’t playing in town any time soon.
She mentioned sending a text to her friend Kelly to say that she was safe. I was pretty sure that she didn’t go to that dance club often, but I’d go there every Friday and Saturday night until the end of time if that’s what it took.
But she didn’t seem to really like the music there. She wasn’t a party girl. What did she like?
Just picturing her in that little red dress made my heart rate soar. Red. Didn’t she say something about a color?
I sat on the floor, trying to concentrate. I didn’t know why sitting on the ground always seemed to help. I doodled circles in the margins of the page. Then diamonds. Then arrows. Maybe I should try colored pens instead of a pencil.
Blue. Her tongue would have been blue if she’d been drinking blue beaches.
I’d thought at the time I must have misheard her, but that sounded like a cocktail. It was something.
Grabbing my phone, I made a call that would definitely change my status from a nice guy to a potential stalker, and I didn't care.
"Yes, Mr. Stone?" The crisp voice that answered was the epitome of efficiency.
"Patricia, I am so sorry, but I need to send you on an insane wild goose chase."
I could almost hear her grabbing her ever-present notebook and pen. "Go ahead."
It was freaking hilarious that I could probably have sent my assistant to comparison shop for supercars, pick out women's high heels in my size, or analyze every Chinese food restaurant in the city. She would approach the project with an equal amount of dedication, while pointedly rolling her eyes at me. As she should.
“There is a bar, cocktail lounge, or pub somewhere in the city that serves a drink called a Blue Beach. I need to find out where that is."
There was a long pause. She probably thought I'd gone off the deep end this time. "Is it a central location, sir?"
"Probably. I would start with a two-mile radius around the club district and work out from there."
"Priority?"
I sighed heavily. "Obviously office work comes ahead of this, but I'm sort of desperate."
She paused for a moment. "Sir, the two new interns have been looking for a research project. Shall I give thi
s to them, and make it sound like some sort of test?"
"Perfect," I said. "Give them each a bonus for trying hard, and give the winner something extra.”
"I'm on it. Is there anything else?"
"That's it. Thanks, Patricia."
I tried to tell myself it wasn't stalking. I certainly wasn't looking up Eden's home address. Or where she went to school. Did she work as well? I didn't even know.
Standing up and walking to the window, I looked out across the city. The five-year-old part of me loved being higher than most of the other buildings. It made me feel like a superhero. Like somebody who was in control.
Most parts of my life had been fairly controlled. There had been a plan, steps had taken place, and there was an end result. Things almost always worked out. Sure, sometimes there would be added steps in the middle, or something unexpected would happen. But the target was always acquired. The goal was always reached. It was extremely rare that any project in my life was completely abandoned.
I didn't have a lot of experience at failing. I would just try again and again in new and different ways until I got the result I wanted. Or at least something fairly close. This gave me a feeling of power that admittedly, was pretty terrific most of the time
Now I was faced with a challenge that made me feel weak. I didn't know what I'd do if I couldn't find her.
Grabbing my phone, I called up my notes. The things I was jotting down would have made me sick had I seen another guy do it.
Private investigator. Call up security photos from my condo lobby to get her photo. Find a hacker who could figure out her full name and address from her phone number.
Honestly, I didn't want to do any of those things. It was extremely creepy. If she found out I did something like that, Eden would freak out, and she would be right to do so. I couldn't start a relationship with her like that. It wasn't right.
She was so pure. So full of light. I wanted us to start dating in a nice, normal way. Dinner and a movie. Bowling. One of those escape room adventures.
Unable to stand being awake any longer, I went to bed early, getting up at six am to hit the gym hard. I need to burn out this frustration. I needed my muscles to ache more than my heart did.
I finally dragged myself back up to my condo for a shower and to get dressed for the day. Then I picked out a red tie the exact shade of Eden's dress from Saturday night, just so I could feel like I had a tiny connection to her.
I had officially become sappy.
I went to my office and had a nice, normal morning, even though I couldn't quite distract myself from my misery.
At a quarter to noon, Patricia came in with some paperwork, my second coffee, and a gigantic smile. The first two things were normal. The third was exceedingly rare.
After setting down the coffee and dropping folders full of contracts on my desk, she waved to a sheet of paper on top. "Names and addresses of twenty-three places that serve a Blue Hawaiian or a Blue Lagoon, just in case you were mistaken." Patricia pointed to the name of a pub that was in bold at the top. "And the one place in the city that has a drink called a Blue Beach."
I blinked hard, feeling absolutely paralyzed for several heartbeats.
“Thank you," I said quietly. "Please tell the interns thank you as well. And give them each a three hundred dollar bonus."
"Dare I ask what this is about?” she asked.
Looking up at my assistant, I knew she was about to laugh at me, and that I deserved it. What the hell. "It's to help me find the girl of my dreams," I said frankly.
Her mouth actually fell open. Then she snapped it shut and shook her head. "Well. Damn. I wasn't expecting that."
I shrugged. "I wasn't expecting to find my gorgeous perfect dream girl last Saturday night, but here we are."
She smiled warmly. "Best of luck, sir," she said, turning on her heel and leaving quickly.
Glancing at the list, I turned to my computer and instantly searched the Renaissance Pub. It was in a quieter neighborhood, and seemed to be a low-key local bar.
Their social media pages had lots of photos of nice, normal people enjoying a drink after work. There were photos of big birthday parties, and smiling bartenders waving cocktail shakers. In one photo, a bartender was pouring a bright blue drink for two young ladies at the bar.
One of them was my Eden.
~ Chapter 9 ~ Eden ~
* Language *
By Thursday, I would have thought that I could put Eric out of my mind for more than ten seconds. But it was impossible.
After finishing my classes for the day, I tried to get ahead of some of my reading but couldn't focus. I heard my phone beep, and almost burst into tears. I couldn't believe that Eric hadn't given up by now. Having a man that wonderful, who obviously liked me, was an incredible gift.
Yet I could not take the chance that something bad would happen to either of us. I could never live with myself if Eric was suddenly hit by a car because of the curse. If something happened to him and not me, I would be devastated. Naturally, I didn't want to be injured either. It just wasn't a chance that I could logically take.
Then my phone beeped three times in quick succession.
Kelly always sent rapid-fire messages. I ignored Eric's texts for fear of being heartbroken yet again, and went directly to Kelly's. She demanded that I meet her at Renaissance Pub, our usual local hangout. Apparently, she had a rough day, plus she hadn't had a chance to tell me all about the bearded man from Saturday night.
Looking around my tiny apartment, I could either stay here and wallow in self-pity for the evening, or go catch up with my friend. Before I'd even thought it through completely, I responded to her text, telling her I would be there at seven.
I brushed my hair, threw on minimal makeup, and found a comfortable but flattering gray patterned dress. It sort of looked like clouds, which made me think of the dark cloud hanging over me. It might have been a bit emo, but it was how I was feeling at the moment.
I walked to the pub, strolling in to see Kelly sitting in a large booth.
"Jamie just left," she said. "I was hoping that you could meet him, but it's his brother's birthday so he had to get to dinner."
"I take it that Jamie is your sexy bearded guy from last weekend?"
"Yes," she said, her eyes absolutely sparkling. She went on to tell me some of the sordid details, including the fact that he still had a waterbed, and was incredibly skilled with his hands.
Strangely, I found myself blushing less than usual during her raunchy tale.
"I don't know how official we are yet," she said, "But we're going out again Saturday night, so that's something."
Our regular bartender Todd was working tonight, so Kelly only had to wave to order us two Blue Beaches.
The second they arrived, we both took a sip, then she turned to lean in closer. "Now you must tell me every detail of what happened with that hunk you were dancing with. Did I actually see you kissing him?"
This time the blush shot through me from my eyebrows to my hips. Kelly's mouth fell open. I didn't even realize her eyes could get that wide. "Holy fucking shit. You went home with him."
"Wait, wait," I said, holding up my hands. "It was really late, and I was tipsy. So he took me home to crash at his place."
Kelly was literally on the edge of her seat, practically twitching. "And?"
I honestly wasn't sure how much I could share. It felt private. It felt like a secret I wanted to keep to myself. "He has a very nice condo," I said slowly.
"And? You had better tell me everything."
"Well, he was a perfect gentleman. I woke up in the morning with my clothes on, and a wall of pillows between us because he thought he would reach for me in the night and snuggle me in his sleep."
Kelly made a little puppy dog whimper. "Oh my God, that's so dorky and so adorable at the same time."
“Yeah, he was amazing, but–”
“Psst.” Kelly nodded to the door. “Isn’t that him?”
I glanced up to see Eric turning toward me. As soon as he recognized me, his eyes widened. Was he surprised?
“Sherbert.”
Kelly laughed. “Watch your language.”
There was no way that Eric could be here. I’d certainly never seen him here before. Having him appear out of the blue felt a bit creepy. Did he know I’d be here? Yet this was a public place.
Eric walked slowly toward us, and I felt myself biting my lip. I took a quick sip of my drink then set it down, trying to arrange my hands casually in my lap, but nothing felt right. I didn’t think he’d make a scene, but I really didn’t know him that well.
