To Love and To Hate

Chapter Six

"Stop pouting. Seriously. It's unbecoming of you. I told you about this days ago, and besides, you like to sleepover at auntie Sal's house and you know it as well as I do." I looked over at Onyx to see if he was listening, and to see if any of what I was saying was sinking in. He was laying in front of the fireplace in the bedroom, his usual spot, except he had his head on his paws and kept giving me sulking sidelong looks of disapproval. I rolled my eyes as I grabbed my skirt suit from the hanger to put in the luggage. I was just about packed for the two-day conference, I only had to find the heels that went with the suit. Going back into my closet I shuffled through my shoes. The suit was a very sophisticated grey with subtle red pinstripes with a matching blouse in the same red. Moving aside little worn sneakers, trying to look for the red heels with the grey lace overlay, I finally found them in the back. 

Holding them triumphantly, I shuffled back out of the dusty closet to put them in beside the suit in my suitcase. Looking over at my doleful cat to see if he was still pouting (he was), I walked over and bent to scoop him up into my arms. He held himself stiffly in protest, but a couple of scratches under his chin, and he was soon melting against my fuzzy bathrobe putting like a tractor in the cold. I leaned my cheek down to the top of his warm head and rubbed against his softness. Indulging in one last squeeze, I set him back down on his favorite spot. I smiled, glad he wasn't mad at me anymore. I would have hated to drop him off at Sally's with him still upset with me. 

"That's my boy" I said with affection before turning to finish packing. I still needed to get together my toiletries bag, and check on my portfolio, making any small finishing touches that I may still need to do to it before packing that as well. With that in mind, I finished putting the last garment in my bag, tucked in the toiletries I had collected, zipped up my suitcase and dragged it to the front door; ready for tomorrow. I was ready. Leaving Onyx contentedly by the fire, I went to my office to take a last look at that portfolio. I wasn't officially told to bring it, but I didn't want to be found in an opportunity without it either. Flicking on the little heater, I glanced at the mantle clock. It was four in the afternoon. Great. I would have just enough time to get anything I still needed here before dropping Onyx off at Sally's. I wasn't leaving until the morning, but I didn't want to have to worry about it since I was leaving so early. I would miss my little guy like the Dickens, but it couldn't be helped. I didn't want to leave him home alone for two days, and I certainly couldn't bring him. Deciding that I needed to stop obsessing over it, and just get it done. I had to go as it could mean a huge opportunity for my business. The Slater's money would only last just so long. Sigh.

Sitting at the desk, I tried to get my wandering brain to focus on the task at hand. My portfolio usually existed in a state of completeness. It contained mood boards of past projects, with pictures of the finished rooms. I had included the Slater's bedroom and bathroom I recently completed. Even though it was decidedly one of the most painful projects I had taken on to date, I was very proud of the end result. I had wanted to include a clipping of the write up from the small magazine, Design Estate, in the portfolio. Rustling through the detritus that was the top of my desk, I saw the ring in the wood where my coffee mug had stained the surface of the desk. Seeing that small stain, I thought back to the mug disappearing and then resurfacing back in the cupboard. I frowned. Then I remembered the noise I thought I had heard during that odd incident, which led to remembering the weird dream I had of Ryan; thinking he had come to me in the night after a bad dream to cuddle, and frowned deeper. Why hadn't I spent more time thinking about that moment so many weeks ago? Instead I had brushed it off, and let it escape further examinations. At the time I was consumed with finishing up the Slater's project,  getting ready for the conference, and then celebrating with Sally, that I completely let that whole thing slip my mind. Looking at the mantle clock again, it was almost five, jolted me out of my reverie. Moving stacks of folders onto the floor, I finally found the clipping I was looking for. It wasn't much, but it was a published piece of my work. Glancing over the picture that was included, it was of a finished kitchen done in a Tuscany charm with warm reds, oranges and yellows. There wasn't a single sign of fake fruit anywhere. It was more of a subtle, subdued Tuscany. The clients had fallen in love with it, I remembered. The memory had me smiling, and losing the thread of past events once more. Tucking it in with the other evidence of my career, I turned my attention back to making sure everything was as it should be. I was due at Sally's with Onyx soon. Closing the portfolio with a small, satisfying, snap, I ran my hands lovingly over the worn leather. It was a representation of my life's work, my blood sweat and literal tears. I was very proud of what was in that portfolio, and I was determined to continue to feel that way even if I didn't make a single profitable connection at this conference.