Page 18 of The Call of Azure (Unexpected Love #3)
“You really think you can pull something like that off?”
She leans further toward me over a small café table in a break room that smells just enough like fish that it’s hard for me to sip the coffee she kindly placed in front of me when she refilled her own mug.
We’ve talked for nearly an hour, largely while wandering around the center.
Like me, she doesn’t seem to be the type who enjoys being stuck behind a desk for very long, but I wish we’d ended up in the small public café-style refreshment center rather than the fishy staff room.
“Absolutely. I honestly think it would be one of the best performances I’ve ever put on.
We could do a few afternoon shows, of course, since they’re easier for families with young kids, but we could also bring in a few strategically placed spotlights and do a couple of Saturday evening events and make a whole thing of it.
I’ll supply my silks, of course, and pay for any costs associated with building the scaffolding framework I’ll need to suspend above your tanks.
I don’t know if you have any money in your budget available for specialty events, but if you do, you could turn it into a couple of theme nights, maybe with catering and a bit of décor.
They could even be promoted as an exclusive fundraising party to lure in some extra revenue. ”
I have no idea if they have any money for anything like that or if it’s even the type of thing they’re interested in doing.
All I know is that her eyes have been sparkling with interest since I first pitched the idea, and I’m so very close to getting her to agree.
I desperately want to be able to pull this performance together, and if she’s able to use it to make a bit of money for the fishies, well, even better.
“We do keep a small budget for promotional events every year. We do yoga in the aquarium in the large shark tunnel room and the outdoor center square a few times over the summer, and we have a ‘kids sleepover with the fish’ night where we bring in storytellers, and they get to learn about the exhibits and the ocean life that resides here a bit more intimately than they would just walking through on a school trip and then camp out in sleeping bags in the manta ray room. Tickets for those events always sell out quickly.” Deep in thought, she taps her fingers on the table and bites at her bottom lip.
“We’ve never really done a performance-type event though.
I mean our mer-performers are here as often as possible.
They’re all volunteers, so we can’t hold them to set schedules in order to keep someone here all the time or anything, but they do a good job of keeping someone around during our busy hours, and almost everyone who visits takes at least a few minutes to hang around and watch them. ”
“I don’t actually have a lot of free time in my life with my day job and performing as well, but I’ve been here a few times, and everyone I’ve seen has been pretty amazing.
” While it’s definitely true that the momentary glimpses I’ve caught of them on the few occasions I’ve been here before have been impressive, I haven’t really paid all that much attention, aside from the trip with Blue and Ethan a couple of weeks ago, but I’m certainly not going to tell her that my stupid tarot card, not the center’s performers that inspired the idea for this performance, not when a bit of complimenting her center might help me persuade her to say yes.
“You know, I think you’re on the right track with the exclusive evening performance idea. Something like that could be marketed as a spectacular evening out for couples looking for a unique date night or folks interested in supporting either the center or the performing arts.”
She shakes her head as she shifts away from planning mode and brings her attention back to the here and now.
“Well. It’s the start of a good thought, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
Like I said, the performers are all volunteers, so we’ll have to find someone who’s interested and able to rearrange their schedule in order to spend time with you choreographing and practicing and performing.
That’s a pretty big commitment, and they all have families and day jobs and things, so it might be a tough ask.
Why don’t we head back out to scout a few potential performance placement locations and see if any of the performers are here right now to chat with?
If not, I can send out an email later to see if anyone is interested. ”
“That would be absolutely amazing! I’m more excited about this idea than I have been about any of my other performances, maybe ever.
I really think it could be something super unique and awesome.
” I know my excitement bubbles over, and I’m practically bouncing as we get up to head outside.
I’m probably pushing too hard instead of playing it cool, but I can’t help myself.
“Unique and awesome, huh?” She laughs and tilts her chin, silently asking me to follow her out of the break room, and I nearly scramble out of my seat, all too happy to escape the combination of coffee and lingering fish scents.
“Well, I mean…I just…” Fluff, what is wrong with me? How have the tables turned so drastically from the moment we first met and she blushed after accidentally leering at me? It’s barely been more than an hour, and now, somehow, I’m the embarrassed one. Ugh, why am I like this?
She cuts me off with a hand on my forearm and another laugh. “No, I like it. Unique and awesome is exactly the way I feel about this whole place.”
She doesn’t stop talking as we make our way through the maze of outdoor exhibits.
She tells me about the way her favorite otter carries his special rock around with him twenty-four seven as we pass their enclosure.
She offers obscure facts about moray eels and sea urchins and points out specific fish to tell me how they came to be at the center as we walk past various tanks.
It’s clear that this place holds a bit of magic for her as well.
Our haphazardly routed trip to the merfolk tunnel entrance takes nearly twenty minutes, but I don’t mind one bit.
If anything, I wish I had the whole afternoon to wander a space that already fascinates me while learning about its inhabitants from someone who clearly cares deeply about their well-being and the importance of educating others about their place in our world.
The tunnels are empty every time they cut across our path, but she says that’s to be expected.
It’s four p.m. on a Thursday, and there apparently may not even be a performer around at this hour.
Evidently, they try to have someone here every weekday from ten to three so there is a bit of extra magic for kids at the center on school field trips, but there’s often a gap between three and five before someone else shows up for the evening to perform through the family night and dates rush until the center closes at eight.
We’re almost to a quiet little corner of the center I’ve never even noticed before, when a happy, childish squeal captures my attention.
Only a few feet from where the tunnel disappears into a small cement structure that’s been carefully constructed to look like a cave at the edge of a large building and painted with bright renditions of fish and seaweed and mermaids, three little girls stand with their faces slightly blue and distorted as they press them up against the glass on the other side of the tunnel.
Their hands are all crowded together as their fingers follow those of a merman’s along the glass in the shape of shells and starfish.
Since he’s facing them, all I can see is a golden tail with stripes that look almost like a tiger’s along the fins and sides, a broad pale back, and long hair the color of wheat or sunlight or something else equally poetic.
He’s floating effortlessly, with small flicks of his tail keeping him in place as he plays with the girls, making them laugh and bringing their dreams to life.
He’s so large, and his coloring so strikingly pale, with movements so gentle and serene, that I’m reminded of the way the man from the jazz club held my tiny Cupcake cradled in his arms a few weeks ago, and I stupidly find myself wondering what he’s up to at this very moment.
“He’s great, isn’t he? They all are. When I first came to work here, I honestly thought their presence cheapened the center a bit and pulled attention away from the wildlife, but that’s not what they do at all.
They offer a sense of wonder and excitement that seems to linger with visitors as they make their way through the exhibits, and I think they find everything else just a touch more enchanting than they would otherwise.
” The way her voice slowly fades as she continues toward the cave pulls me away from my nonsensical musing about mermen and memories of ice-blue eyes and back to focusing on convincing her this performance will work.
I have to jog a few steps to catch up with her.
Fortunately, that I can do. Performing definitely keeps me in good shape, but outside of that, deliberate exercise isn’t really my thing.
On the rare occasions Blue talks me into going running with him at the beach, my body protests and threatens to shut down so that I can curl up into a little ball and let the tide carry me away so that I never have to - gag - run again.