I changed into the dress I had brought with me. It was the last one Elliott had bought. I studied the layout. I wanted to go back to the gallery to buy two additional paintings that were complementary. They were pricey, but VERT was worth it. I texted Dexter to see how the revisions were going and asked if Mark had any time on his schedule. The revised green was deeper. More robust. I wanted to carry that theme outside into the courtyard. I let go of my long-held ideas about this place. Reimagining requires letting go, but in the process, you gain something even better. It was all so bittersweet. Griffin knocked on the door. I stood up, zipped my dress as far as I could, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

“Sit down on the sofa. What do you think?” I asked him in regard to the miniature restaurant I had created.

“You look beautiful,” Griffin said.

“Not me. This,” I said as I spanned my hand around the panorama of his office. Then I sat down next to him. I wanted to see what he saw. In the silence, I picked up my wine. He took his time. He considered my efforts. I appreciated that about him. Even now.

“It’s different from Julian’s vision. It’s deeper. Richer. Fresher. I really love the painting, Bae. The vases are the exact color of the dots of blue in the painting.” He looked into my eyes. “It’s better.”

“I want to order linen napkins one shade darker than the vases. I’m pondering that.”

“Sitting here, the wall color is really growing on me. It’s not the cool colors of the restaurant now. It’s soothing. It’s a very sophisticated vibe, Bae. Mature. Very assured but very welcoming.” He stopped, sitting with his thoughts. Was he just describing the restaurant? He seemed so reflective and serious. Were we ruminating on the same question: would I have put this together ten years ago?

“We need a bartender out here,” Charlie said. It broke the sweet reverie.

“I guess I need to get to work. I hope you’re not planning to do anything with my couch.” Griffin leaned into me. “It holds some very happy memories,” he said and smiled. “You’re unzipped. Shall I unzip you the rest of the way?” The moment and memories blended together to form an elixir of might-have-beens and possible maybes.

“I wouldn’t think of doing anything with this couch,” I smiled. “Finish zipping my dress.”

“I would rather not, but I will.” Griffin let his hand rest on the zipper. “I like it. No, I love it, Bae.”