Chapter 379: Perfectly Imperfect

[October 1] [New York] [Evening]

By six-thirty, Alex had finished reviewing the latest box office projections for Alien 2 and was considering whether he could escape his office before Rachel found another document requiring his signature.

His phone vibrated before he could make the attempt.

Angela: I’m downstairs. If you’re still wearing a suit, change it.

Alex smiled and typed a reply while reaching for his jacket.

Alex: What’s wrong with my suit?

Angela: Nothing, but wear jeans and something you don’t mind getting dirty.

That was an interesting requirement.

Twenty minutes later, Alex emerged from Titan’s headquarters wearing dark jeans, a grey shirt, and a jacket. Angela stood beside a black SUV, watching him approach with an approving smile.

She wore faded jeans, ankle boots, and a cream-colored cardigan over a simple black top. Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders, and she’d barely bothered with makeup.

"Well, look at you," she said, stepping forward to straighten his collar. "You actually listened for once."

"I usually listen. Whether I agree with you afterward is another matter."

"Of course it is." Angela kissed his cheek before taking his hand. "Come on, I’ve got something planned for tonight."

Alex glanced toward the SUV. "Are you going to tell me where we’re going?"

"That would ruin the surprise, sweetheart. You’ll find out when we get there."

Alex followed her into the vehicle, although he wasn’t entirely reassured by how pleased she seemed with herself.

Their destination turned out to be a small pottery studio tucked between a bakery and a stationery shop in Brooklyn. Warm light glowed through its front windows, illuminating shelves crowded with ceramic bowls, painted tiles, and slightly crooked vases.

Alex studied the sign above the entrance. "Clay & Company. Are we buying pottery?"

Angela laughed as she opened the door. "We’re making pottery. I thought it’d be fun to try something different."

Inside, the air smelled faintly of damp earth and freshly brewed coffee. Six pottery wheels occupied the center of the room, while unfinished pieces dried on wooden racks along the walls.

A woman in her fifties emerged from a back room, wiping her hands on a clay-dusted apron.

"Angela White, you’ve finally returned," she said, pulling Angela into a hug. "I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about this place."

Angela returned the embrace before introducing Alex. "I’ve been busy with work. Maria, this is Alex. Alex, meet Maria Ortega. She’s the one who taught me everything I know about pottery."

Maria looked Alex over and smiled in recognition. "Well, it’s nice to meet you. Angela told me she was bringing someone tonight, although she neglected to mention who."

"She also neglected to tell me where we were going," Alex replied, shaking her hand. "I only found out about five seconds before coming inside."

Angela gave him an innocent smile. "And you survived the surprise. Come on, Maria’s already prepared everything."

She led him toward two pottery wheels while Maria went to fetch some water. As they settled onto their stools, Angela explained that she’d discovered the studio nearly a year earlier, when a modeling campaign had left her with several unexpected evenings free. She’d come in out of curiosity and ended up returning whenever she wanted a few hours away from cameras and appointments.

While rolling up his sleeves, Alex noticed a small blue bowl sitting on a nearby shelf. Its rim sloped noticeably to one side, and the uneven glaze had collected in a dark puddle near the bottom.

"That’s an interesting design," he observed, picking it up.

Angela immediately reached for the bowl. "Please put that back before you embarrass me."

Alex looked between her and the crooked little bowl. "Wait, you made this?"

"During my first lesson, unfortunately. Maria promised she’d get rid of it, but apparently she enjoys humiliating me."

From the water dispenser, Maria called over her shoulder, "I never promised anything of the sort, darling. Besides, it’s one of my favorite pieces."

Alex laughed and carefully returned the bowl to its shelf. "I actually like it. It’s got... character."

Angela gave him a doubtful look. "You’re only saying that because you haven’t tried making one yourself."

"Well, I suppose we’ll find out soon enough."

Maria returned a few moments later with water. She placed the glasses on the little coffee table and then gave them a demonstration, showing Alex how to center the clay and control its shape. Once she’d explained the basics, she left them to practice while she worked nearby.

Alex placed a lump of clay on the spinning wheel, and pressed his palms against it.

Within seconds, the clay tilted sideways.

Angela watched with growing amusement as he attempted to correct it. The wheel continued spinning, a ribbon of wet clay escaped between his fingers, and something resembling a very unhappy mushroom began taking shape.

"Oh, this is wonderful," she said, leaning back on her stool. "I wish I’d brought a camera. Nobody’s going to believe me when I tell them how terrible you are at this."

"I think there’s something wrong with the wheel," Alex replied, staring at his creation.

"There’s nothing wrong with the wheel, sweetheart. You’re pressing too hard. Watch how I do it."

Alex looked over as Angela demonstrated, her hands moving with considerably more confidence over her own spinning clay. She’d already formed a neat cylinder, guiding its walls upward with steady pressure.

He watched for a few moments before trying to imitate her movements. Unfortunately, the improvement lasted only until he attempted to widen the top, at which point the entire thing leaned dangerously to one side.

Angela started laughing again, and Alex eventually joined her.

Over the next forty minutes, his first attempt collapsed, his second developed an unfortunate hole, and his third finally held its shape long enough for Maria to declare it salvageable.

Angela had considerably better luck. She shaped a small mug and prepared a curved handle that Maria would attach once the clay had firmed up enough. After removing her piece from the wheel, Angela decorated one side with tiny stars, pressing them into the damp surface with a wooden tool.

Alex, meanwhile, studied his own creation and decided it looked more like a flowerpot than anything intended for drinking.

"I think I’ll make something for Nacho," he announced, looking at the wide, uneven bowl.

Angela leaned over to inspect it. "Your cat’s going to think you’ve insulted him."

"Nacho judges everyone anyway. At least now he’ll have somewhere to do it."

Angela reached across to smooth a rough section near the rim. Her fingers brushed his, leaving a streak of grey clay across his knuckles.

Alex caught her hand gently. "You’ve got something on your face."

Angela pulled her hand away and looked at him suspiciously. "Where exactly did I get clay on my face?"

Alex touched the tip of her nose with one damp finger. "Right about there."

She stared at him for a moment before reaching for a little clay from the worktable. "You’re going to regret doing that, Alex."

He tried to lean away, but Angela caught his wrist and smeared a streak across his cheek. By the time Maria returned with two cups of tea, both of them were laughing, their sleeves were dirty, and Angela had somehow acquired clay on her forehead.

Maria stopped beside them and surveyed the mess. "I leave you two alone for a few minutes, and suddenly you’re behaving like children. Should I be worried about my studio?"

Angela immediately pointed at Alex. "He started it, Maria. I was minding my own business until he put clay on my face."

Alex looked at Maria. "I think you’ll find she started laughing at me long before any of that happened."

"Well, as long as you haven’t broken anything, I suppose I can forgive you." Maria placed the tea on a clean side table and motioned toward their unfinished pieces. "Finish decorating those, and I’ll take care of drying and firing them later."

They moved their pottery to the worktable, keeping each piece on its wooden board. Angela finished marking the stars on her mug before carefully carving a tiny letter A near its base.

Alex noticed her work and picked up a wooden tool of his own.

Angela set her tool aside and reached for her tea. "What are you writing on yours?"

"Just making sure everyone knows who it belongs to."

He slowly rotated the wooden board as he scratched a message around the outside of Nacho’s bowl. Once he’d finished, he turned it toward Angela so she could read the crooked letters.

[Property of His Majesty Nacho. Humans may approach with offerings.]

Angela burst out laughing and nearly spilled her tea. She quickly steadied the cup before giving the inscription another look.

"Oh, that’s perfect. I can already imagine him sitting beside it and looking at you like you’ve personally offended him."

"That’s how he looks at me every morning. At least this way, he’ll have a proper bowl to complain about."

Angela shook her head, still smiling, while Alex set his wooden tool aside and finally picked up his own tea.

After finishing their tea, they spent a little longer decorating their pieces before Maria helped move everything onto the drying racks. She explained that everything would need time to dry before firing and glazing, and promised to contact Angela when their pottery was ready.

Afterward, Alex and Angela washed the clay from their hands and cleaned their faces. While Angela was occupied at the sink, Alex quietly spoke with Maria about the crooked blue bowl on the shelf.

Maria was initially reluctant to accept money for something Angela had made herself, but eventually agreed on the condition that his payment go toward supplies for her children’s classes.

She wrapped the bowl carefully and slipped it into a small paper bag, which Alex accepted before saying goodbye.

Outside, the evening had grown pleasantly cool. Alex handed the bag to Angela as they started walking toward the SUV.

"What’s this?" she asked, peering inside.

When she discovered the blue bowl, she stopped and looked at him in disbelief.

"You sneaky bastard," she murmured, lifting it carefully from the bag. "You really bought my terrible pottery?"

Alex tucked his hands into his jacket pockets. "I told you I liked it."

Angela examined the uneven rim again before looking at him. After a moment, she carefully returned the bowl to its wrapping. Alex pulled a hand from his pocket as Angela finished wrapping the bowl, and she slipped her fingers between his.

They stopped at a little bakery that was preparing to close and bought two warm cinnamon pastries. Angela tucked the bowl securely into its bag, and Alex offered to carry it while they ate.

From there, they walked toward the waterfront, taking their time along the quieter streets. By the time they reached the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, the Manhattan skyline glittered across the East River.

Alex set the paper bag on a nearby bench before joining Angela at the railing. She was already looking out across the water, slowly eating the last of her pastry.

"You know, most men try to impress me by taking me somewhere expensive," she said, glancing at him. "You’re the first one who’s spent an entire evening making a terrible bowl and somehow made me enjoy every minute of it."

Alex leaned against the railing beside her. "I’d like to point out that my third attempt was considerably better than the first two."

"Your first one looked like a mushroom, Alex. I’m pretty sure even you can’t argue with that."

He shook his head, conceding the point as Angela turned back toward the river.

After a moment, she gestured toward the waterfront. "I used to come here after my lessons sometimes. I’d get something sweet, sit by the river, and just enjoy having a few hours to myself. It’s one of my favorite places in the city."

Alex looked along the promenade, where a few couples were walking beneath the streetlights. "I can see why you like coming here. It’s peaceful."

"Exactly. Nobody bothering me about work, nobody asking for pictures, or expecting me to look perfect all the time." Angela smiled faintly. "I love my job, of course. The campaigns, the traveling, everything I’ve worked for. Sometimes, though, I just want to spend an evening doing something silly without worrying about it."

Alex watched a boat crossing the river below them. "Well, you certainly picked the right activity tonight. Although I think I’ll need a few more lessons before I can make something that doesn’t look completely ridiculous."

Angela nudged his arm. "You don’t have to get good at everything. Besides, I rather like having something I can teach you."

They finished their pastries and brushed the crumbs from their hands. Alex slipped an arm around Angela’s waist, drawing her closer as the wind lifted a few strands of her hair. She leaned against his side and rested her head on his shoulder, and they spent the next few minutes watching the city lights reflecting across the water.

Eventually, Angela lifted her head and looked at him.

"Can I tell you something a little embarrassing?"

Alex turned toward her. "Of course. What’s bothering you?"

"I was actually worried about tonight," she admitted, keeping one arm around his waist. "I kept wondering whether you’d find a pottery class boring."

Alex looked at her for a moment.

"Angela, I spent most of tonight laughing with you. I can’t remember the last time I had that much fun being terrible at something." He glanced toward the bag on the bench. "And I’ve got a rather interesting souvenir to remember it by."

Angela followed his gaze and laughed quietly. "You’re seriously going to keep that ugly little bowl, aren’t you?"

"Absolutely. I was thinking of putting it on my desk."

She stared at him for a moment before smiling. "You’re rather sweet sometimes, Mr. Wilson. Even with clay all over your sleeves."

Alex glanced at his clothes. "I’ll consider that a compliment, especially since you’re partly responsible for the mess."

Angela laughed, then rose onto her toes and kissed him. Alex cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb lightly along her jaw as she leaned closer. Her arms settled around his shoulders, and he drew her against him while the kiss lingered.

When Angela finally pulled back, she rested her forehead against his, keeping her arms loosely around his shoulders.

"Next time, I’m taking you somewhere even stranger," she whispered.

Alex smiled as he looked into her eyes. "Should I start worrying about what you’ve got planned?"

"Probably, sweetheart. I’ve already got a few ideas."

She kissed him once more before stepping back, and Alex retrieved the paper bag from the bench. Angela took his free hand and led him along the promenade, occasionally bumping her shoulder against his as they talked about what else they could try together.

The little blue bowl swung gently inside its paper bag.

--

AN: This is it for now. I’ll release the remaining chs next week together.