Read FRAGILE: Part 1 for Free Online Page A

coming from Eli’s pocket. He sets his glass down and pulls out his phone and looks at the screen. “I need to take this,” he says. He steps a little away from the kitchen, holding the margarita in one hand. “Hey, Grandpa.”
    Grandpa? At last, I know something about Eli’s family; he has a grandfather.
    “No, you’re fine.” Eli takes a sip of his margarita, staring off. “Yes.”
    I mix the vinaigrette together, but I hold off pouring it over the salad. Since Eli’s busy, I set the dirty dishes into the sink as quietly as I can.
    “Perkins?” Eli says. I look up to see him frowning. “Very well.” He glances at me. “Not tonight. I’m busy.”
    I smile, as I pick my margarita up.
    “Yes, tomorrow night will be fine. Thank you. Love you, too. Bye.”
    It’s weird to hear Eli say those words. I watch him, as he sets his phone back into his pocket. “Grandpa?”
    Eli looks at me carefully. “My mother’s father,” he says at last. He opens a cabinet and pulls out two plates. I search around and find silverware, and we take everything to the beautiful dark wood dining table in a room nearby, Eli and I sitting on opposite ends of one corner of the table.
    After a few minutes of eating, Eli nods his head at his plate. “This is very, very good. Thank you.”
    “Aw, you’re welcome,” I say. “Do you cook?”
    “As little as I have to,” Eli says. He smirks, as I chuckle. “I know a few meals.”
    “Alright, you’re cooking next time,” I say. We share a smile and keep eating for a bit. “Are you close to your family?” I ask.
    Eli’s reaction is worse than this morning. I watch, as his body tenses, a shadow overcasts his face, and his eyes glaze over as if an opaque window were closing shut. “No.”
    “I’m sorry,” I say quickly, afraid he’ll leave. I reach a hand out and touch his cold fingers. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”
    Eli, who had started to lean back, stops. His eyes focus on me again.
    I take charge of the conversation and focus it back on myself. “I’m close with my mom. Not so much with my dad and my stepmom and stepsiblings—although I get along with them fine. We just don’t talk much.”
    Slowly, almost cautiously, Eli’s broad shoulders relax back down. “Where is your mom?”
    “Savannah, so not too far,” I say.
    Eli nods once and returns to eating. “How does she feel about your business?”
    “She loves it. I thank her for my name all the time.”
    A small smile appears on Eli’s face. “She must be very proud of you.”
    “Oh yeah.”
    I debate asking Eli a reciprocating question about his family, but as I watch him sip at his margarita, I decide against it. Mental note to self: Never ask Eli about his family again unless I’m hanging onto him and he’s got nowhere to go. I search for something non-personal to talk about.
    “So, when do you exercise?” I ask. I’d seen Eli’s exercise room. It had mirrors on all sides, something that had amused and delighted me, imagining watching Eli from multiple angles getting all sweaty working out.
    “In the mornings,” Eli says.
    “Would you mind if I joined you tomorrow?”
    Eli smirks. “I don’t have any workout clothes for you. Should I ask Mary to get some?”
    “No need. I’ll just do stretches.”
    “Oh. Naked, then, I hope?”
    I laugh, feeling relief that Eli is at ease again. “Sounds good. So how early?”
    “I start exercising at five in the morning.”
    Pointing my fork at Eli, I shake my head, glaring at him. “That’s an unholy hour! It’s a good thing you’re freaking hot.”
    Grinning, Eli shrugs. “I’m a morning person.”
    “Obviously. I’m not.”
    “Obviously.”
    Snickering, we share another smile as we finish eating. Eli stares at his empty plate, and then he looks up at me. I can tell he’s searching for something, but I don’t know what, and I give him a smirk. He suddenly reaches a hand across and takes mine.
    “I’m still