Page 16 of Love in Focus

“First of all, I want you to know, I did everything I could to make it so we wouldn’t have to work together. But unfortunately, Evelyn is convinced you’re the perfect person for the job. And at this point, it’s also too late to get someone else.”

Celeste smirks, resting her chin on her right hand. “I knew I liked her.”

Frustration rises up inside me like a kettle about to boil over.

“I need this project to do well, Celeste,” I say, my voice coming out sharper than I intended. “If this doesn’t get the attention we need, my coworkers and I might lose our jobs.”

She sits up, finally serious. “This project is a big deal for me, too, so don’t worry about that. Or at least, not about the visual aspect of it. And I’m willing to work with you, if you’re willing to work with me.”

Celeste takes out a tablet from her big black purse and opens it to a gallery of what I can only assume is her most recent work. I try to keep a blank face as I look at her portraits, practically holding my breath because Icannotlet herknow that I stalked her online and have already seen some of these pictures. Thankfully, a good chunk are portraits and videos that weren’t shared on social media, featuring various individuals from all walks of life. All framed and lit perfectly, the people in her art somehow look both familiar and ethereal at the same time, like neighbors portrayed in a way that makes them appear otherworldly.

Like the pictures on her Instagram, all the pieces in her portfolio are beautiful, too. And I can now see why Evelyn thinks she’s perfect for this job. My voice comes out hushed when I say, “You’re really talented.”

Our eyes meet over the small candle in the center of the table. Somehow, even amid all the people laughing and sloshing beer around us, it feels like Celeste and I are in the middle of our own romantic date.

Fortunately, at that exact moment, loud cheers erupt from the people seated around us. Everyone raises their pints of beer, and Celeste, with a bemused look on her face, raises her hand like she’s holding an invisible drink.

Four dancers appear onstage, dressed in matching green shirts and either black skirts or leotard pants.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Celeste says. She stands up from her seat and whoops, joining in with the loud cheers. “Definitely not something you’d ever see in Korea. Well, maybe in Itaewon, but not anywhere else.”

A server comes by our table, asking, “Do you two want to order any drinks before they start the performance?”

Celeste glances over at me. “You okay with drinking during our meeting? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

I mull it over. I do want to keep thingsrelativelyprofessional. But itisa Friday night, and I’m going to need a drink by the time Celeste and I are done talking about everything. “Sure, why not?”

“Fabulous.” Celeste turns her attention back to the server. “I’ll have a Guinness, and she’ll have a Blue Moon.” She turns back to me. “You still like those, right?”

“Yeah,” I say begrudgingly, before it hits me. “Wait, who said I was okay with you buying me a drink?”

She winks at me. “It’s the least I can do for crashing your work project.”

Celeste ordering me a drinkandwinking at me takes us dangerously close to the “date” category. When the server comes back with our beers, I take a small sip of mine.Celestecan get drunk and sloppy, for all I care. I’ll gladly be the one to keep things professional.

The music starts, rendering all conversation impossible as everyone claps and stomps along to the dancers, who prance around the stage to the bright and cheery music. Some sound like traditional Irish songs, while others are classical renditions of holiday tunes.

The performance goes on for much longer than I expected it to, and even though it was my idea to come here in the first place, I start to regret it. I want to keep Celeste at arm’s length, but we still have a lot of things we need to talk about. Namely, our past. Which won’t be an easy conversation in the slightest.

I’m about to suggest to Celeste that we go somewhere else when I notice she’s not at our table anymore. Somehow,she’s linked arms with the guys at the table next to us. I watch as they dance in a circle and joyfully slosh their beer around.

Celeste’s cheeks are bright pink, and my eyes almost instinctively drop down to her red-painted lips. When our gazes meet again, the corner of her mouth lifts. That small movement is enough to make me swallow.

The moment thankfully passes, and she turns around to laugh at something one of the guys said. The music is too loud for me to make out any words, but she replies, and suddenly the whole group is cracking up like she said the funniest joke in the world. One guy even slaps his knees and almost falls backward, which makes everyone laugh harder.

Somehow, she’s already all buddy-buddy with these strangers, something I could never do. And that’s when it hits me. Besides her technical skills, there’s another reason why Celeste is absolutely perfect for this project.

I love my job because I can help strangers in heavily controlled environments, like answering virtual submissions and emails. But just because I love people doesn’t mean I’m good with them. Meanwhile, even back in college, when she first started out by taking graduation photos to build her portfolio, Celeste somehow always knew the right words to say to make her clients drop their guards and loosen up. By the time she was done taking their photos, she not only became friends with all of them, but she captured her subjects in the best figurativeandliteral light, helping them shine in their own unique ways.

From the way she’s instantly charmed her way into the group of guys, it’s clear that Celeste still has those social skills. Meanwhile, since graduating from college, I haven’t made any new friends other than Val and Kiara, whom I met several years ago.

The music finally comes to a stop, and the dancers bow as the audience gives them a round of applause.

“Thank you, everyone!” says one of the performers onstage. “We’re done for the night but stick around for other great performances tonight. The Irish Fighters are up next, and they’ll be ready in a few minutes. Happy Friday and happy holidays!”

After a round of resounding cheers, the college students get off the stage and everyone settles back into their seats. I’m watching the Irish Fighters, a local band whose lead singer looks suspiciously like Dave Grohl, set up their guitars and drums when Celeste says, “Whew. Sorry about that. This is my first time at an Irish pub, so I couldn’t resist having some fun.”

She gives me an impish smile, reminding me of why I first fell in love with her so many years ago. Sure, she’s super sexy, but I was always even more attracted to her personality, the fun, air sign energy that kept her—and me, too, when I was dating her—leaping from new experience to new experience with a childlike sense of wonder.

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