“You made these?”
“They’re just samples. I can revise them if you—”
“No! The second one is absolutely gorgeous.” He’d captured the chaotic energy full of summery colors that she’d been going for, but unlike her, he’d nailed it. “I love the font, love everything about it.”
“That’s my first recommendation.”
She listened as he suggested how she could increase the visual appeal of the site, and he’d apparently made a sample account to show her how to add collages and carousels to showcase her work. He finished with some recommendations about what she could do using social media, which included contacting influencers and people who hosted related podcasts.
“This is exactly what I needed,” Iris said, fighting the urge to hug him. “It’s not that I can’t do these things, but I get bogged down and I don’t know what to do first, you know? Then it feels so overwhelming that I end up doing nothing at all.”
Eli nodded. “I feel the same way in social settings. I can’t figure out who to talk to or what to say. Nine times out of ten, I duck out and wind up watching a movie by myself.”
“Really? You’re so easy to talk to! I never would have guessed.” She paused, wondering if there was any way she could help him in turn. “Oh! If you ever need someone to be your plus one—for moral support or whatever—I’m there.”
“That would be incredible. Anyway, let me know how it goes. I hope sales pick up. And I’ll spread the word about your shop as I can.”
Iris beamed. “You’re seriously my hero. The dance lessons are on me.”
* * *
Eli fought the impulse to say he’d pay.
Iris didn’t want someone to make her problems vanish or to buy everything for her. Though he didn’t know her well, he already understood that much. She preferred support to outright interference, and she was probably trying to thank him by paying for the ballroom dance classes.
“Then I’m looking forward to it.”
He scooped up his laptop and retreated before he said or did something that revealed how much he already liked her. Hell, it had been awkward enough when he found her in her robe, wet hair tumbled back from her glowing face. And urges that he didn’t struggle with or even think about sprang vividly, awkwardly to life.
Fortunately, he had business to conclude, as Liz had finished reviewing the contract while he was painting bedrooms like it was a path to inner peace. The documents were ready for his e-signature—just in time, as What’s Cooking gained users daily and the need for more staff to maintain the platform would become WeiZhen’s problem. Eli read the documents himself, perusing the sections Liz had flagged, but everything fell within reasonable parameters. He esigned with the understanding he’d be paid within fifteen business days.
After checking the time, he called Gamma. She liked video calls, and he was the one person she’d never refuse to chat with regardless of what she had going on. Tonight, it sounded like she was at a party when she answered. That alone put a smile on his face.
“Sorry, it’s a bit loud here. Let me step outside.” The music and laughter got fainter when she closed the door. “Better?”
“I can hear and see you. Everything okay?”
“Settling in fine! I’m at a neighbor’s barbecue, so I can’t talk long.”
“There’s nothing urgent. I haven’t heard anything about your house yet. I’m just checking in.”
“Ah, well, I’m fine. How’re you, little man?”
“Surprisingly well. I actually like St. Claire.”
“If you’d realized that sooner,” she said, “we could’ve spent more time together.”
“Hey, I was a teenager. I thought I had to leave home to prove myself.”
“I know. Oh, they’re calling me. I have to run. Love you!”
“Love you more,” he said as Gamma disconnected.
Home reno. Ballroom dancing. The business deal. A woman he couldn’t get off his mind and a taciturn elderly gent.
There was too much happening in his head and not enough space for it. To reach that blissful, quiet place, he locked his bedroom door, opened the window, and stripped. That fast, he was soaring up and out, circling the house once, twice, riding the crisp autumn wind with gentle flicks of his wings. Then he arrowed away. A long flight was exactly what he needed tonight.
Eli lost track of time, flinging himself into the night. The wind smelled of the coming winter, brisk to the point of bitterness. Fewer animals about, mostly pets that had snuck out of the house for a small adventure. He let them be, though other predators wouldn’t.
When he returned to the purple house, Iris stood on the front porch, gazing out.
He’d wanted to see her with hawk’s eyes, but nothing could have prepared him for the glorious silver corona that shone from her. In fact, he’d never seen anyone who gleamed so, platinum so bright that other hues flickered about the edges, somehow opalescent with hidden fire full of rainbows. Because she was so beautiful, he almost flew straight into the side of the house. Eli corrected at the last moment and glided through the window. He shifted back, cold now and exhausted enough to sleep.
She’s absolutely not human. They don’t look like that. None of them do. But he was too tired to contemplate why she gleamed so brightly when she supposedly wasn’t anything special. Not a psychic vampire, like the rest of her family. Something about that didn’t add up, but he lost the thread in exhaustion. After shutting the window, he tumbled into bed naked and didn’t dream.
The next couple of days, he focused on finishing the work he’d started with Iris and trying not to stare too much at her. Consequently, he lost his ability to speak naturally in her presence and started acting more like his weird self. On the fourth day, they wrapped up in the front room. Between the paint and the gray-and-white paper on the accent wall, it was a new space.
“It’s great, isn’t it?” Iris didn’t seem to have noticed his odd behavior, at least. “You did an amazing job with the wallpaper.”
“The wainscoting was all you, though.”
“I did my best. I wonder if Great-Aunt Gertie would like what we’re doing with the place,” she added in a musing tone.
“Definitely. She’s probably beaming right now, wherever she is.”
“Hopefully not here,” Iris said with a small shiver.
Eli couldn’t resist teasing her. “You never know…”
“That is not funny.”
“Should we host a séance?” he asked, just as Henry Dale came to inspect their handiwork.
The old man ran a hand over the walls and offered an approving nod. “Looks good. I like gray and white.” He turned a hard look on Eli. “But no mucking about with spirits, you hear me? No candles. No table rapping. No asking if anybody’s here. Even if they are here, there’s no point getting them stirred up, is there?”
Iris tilted her head, visibly surprised. “I didn’t know you believed in such things.”
Henry Dale cleared his throat. “Believe might be a strong word, but I’ve lived a long time and seen some odd things. Not everything can or should be explained, Miz Collins.”