Do you believe in manifestation? Yes, I’m asking you reader. Do you?
Do you believe in the power of visualisation and the power of words to create your own reality? If you do, does that mean that I have created a new reality with the words in this book? Have I pulled you into a reality? That would mean that every story, song, film that has ever been written is it’s own reality. Or do you believe in chaos? That there are no laws of attractions or assumptions or coincidence, but only the chaos. That we, and the universe around us, are purely just bumping into each other without agenda? Or perhaps we live in a state of both; where we have free will and make our own choices, but they’re influence, as we are always influenced by something…. Which kind of proves my first point. A choice was a thought before it was decided, in conclusion, suggesting the notion of just how powerful our thoughts —our imagination— can be.
James couldn’t quite believe it himself. He was raised on more of the atheist belief, that his reality was completely up to him, and him alone. That no invisible being or force played part in one’s life. Yet as he matured, his views and beliefs became more agnostic. There was something, but he wasn’t quite sure what or how it worked. He had also never given much thought to the concept of coincidence, but he was definitely questioning it now.
Vivienne often appeared within his mind, as he would within hers. The well appointed attorney kept thinking of her short reply to her opponent, and that maybe she should send a follow up email. However, she didn’t action such thoughts yet. She hadn’t been rude, she knew that, but sending another reply lurked within her mind. As for James, well, he had played with the idea in his mind; sitting opposite Vivienne in a cafe, chatting over cups of coffee and tea, as he got to know her for her, the woman behind her legal persona. And then there she was, as if he was watching the idea play out in his mind. The manifestation, the wish, the prayer, it was before him; she, was before him. There she sat, back to the wall while she pursued a home interiors magazine, with her half filled cup of coffee to her right. Her clothing choices proved that it was a Saturday morning, as she was not layered in her usual office attire, just as he wasn’t. Why James felt a brew of nerves within his stomach was ridiculous. He reminded himself just who the hell he was— a legal tycoon who had a lethal command of the courtroom, so he should easily be able to manage his sudden, ridiculous bout of nerves.
“Vivienne”, he said simply as he walked to stand next to the cafe table she occupied.
“James”. He felt the remainder of his nerves begin to dissolve as she looked up at him and smiled. “How are you?”.
“Very well. How have you been?”. It had been a few weeks now since their last encounter, the final mediation and then email. “Well I hope?”.
“Yeah, pretty good! What are you up to this morning?”. She was always a little amazed at just how tall he was.
“I got up early for a run, and am now in need of an espresso”. There was a chuckle around his words that told of his tiredness. His ears greedily took in her agreeable laugh, how warm the tones of her tune were.
“Do you want to join me? No pressure if you’d prefer not, I just—
“That would be lovely”. How was this unfolding the way he had hoped? The way he had imagined. James warmly accepted, and stated that he would just go order his espresso, but not before he asked— “you like chocolate cake?”.
Chocolate cake became a common occurrence between Vivienne and James as their friendship began to flourish. They learnt more of each other that day. James found it easier to relax around Vivienne than most other people. He wasn’t quite sure what it was about her, he just felt.
Coincidental coffee turned into planned lunchtime coffee meets, which then turned into non-formal dinners usually at a mutually favourite Japanese restaurant, or a drink in a near by bar. Months went by, and they learnt so much more of one another the more time they spent together. Vivienne —or Vivi as she told him to call her— was a fan of sending funny pictures to James that would catch me slightly off guard through his working day.
“Where do you stand on this frog?”, the text message had read that he quickly checked before his meeting.
“I am not sure, my dear. What is so special about this frog?”. James was truly unsure what to make of it. The picture consisted of what appeared to be the same frog in four different stances.
“He’s just so funny! Look at the last pic, he looks so suss”. It took a few memes to be sent for James to start understanding and matching Vivi’s humour. But that was what was so interesting, because there were many sections to her humour, which kept it fun and engaging. Mature and childlike. She was just as quick witted and sarcastic as he was, and there were times when they both took quiet pleasure in a dark joke. Her chosen memes always managed to put a smile on his face throughout his work day, despite how trifled that day had made him. She kept him on his toes in a sense, but he loved it. He loved the depth and contrast within her. Even her laughter; as the more time they spent together, James discovered that Vivi had more than one type of laugh.
“I like how you have different styles of laughter”, he had said to her that evening in her lounge room. She asked what he meant as she calmed her laughter. “Well you have your usual ah-ah-ah, but when you find something very funny, you have your laugh that makes you sound like a stove kettle that is coming to the boil. And then quite randomly you can have a little demonic chuckle or the snake like hiss”. Vivi covered her face with her hands as she agreed and commented on how embarrassing they all were, while James assured her that they’re all very endearing and to not be embarrassed.
With the discovery of the different layers of her laughter, James felt like he was begining to see the different layers of her. Because there was so much depth to Vivienne Knight. She had seemed like a relatively open person, and she was, but there was so much more that she hid. Temperament, for one. Although her tone and words became easily authoritative in the court room, James saw how angered she could get, one night when they met for a drink. She went to order another round —despite his protest and attempt to preform the small act of service— as he waited at their table. He heard her voice start to raise, it wasn’t a tone of threat, but it was evident that something was of issue. He made his way up to the bar and placed himself next to her, listening to her give the barman a verbal telling off.
“What is the matter, Vivi?”, he asked once she had finished her sentence.
“This oaf seems to have a problem with me ordering a neat whiskey. And I can’t help but feel that he wouldn’t be talking to you in such a condescending manner if you were the one to order a neat whiskey instead of me”. Her eyes hadn’t moved from the bartender while she explained the situation to James. “Seeing I have a pussy, apparently I cannot order a neat whiskey”. When she had ordered the drink for herself, the barman asked if she wanted soda with it, to which she said no and repeated the word neat, with her manner still being polite as she thought that he may have just misheard her. But then he had continued and asked if she wanted ice or lemon. She realised where this was going, and then asked him if he was hard of hearing. Then the foolish barmen had the audacity to ask if she was some kind of boozehound. “Are you a misogynist? Or are you that much of an inferior barmen to not be able to comprehend the meaning of the word ‘neat’. No ice. No lemon. No soda. Just. Whiskey”.
“Look lady—
“Don’t you dare talk to her in such a manner”, James seethed in a tone that he could be known for, yet Vivi was yet to hear it first hand until now. He had wanted to object earlier, but he didn’t want to interrupt Vivienne, and she was more than capable to handle this on her own. She didn’t need him speaking for her, he wasn’t that type of man anyway, he merely wanted to support his good friend. Before the bartender even dared to speak again, Vivienne had slammed her hand down on the bar.
“Neat whiskey. Now”.
So yeah, James saw first hand that night just how temperamental Vivi could be. He really liked that about her. Naturally, she had such a essence of justice about her, but it wasn’t for her selfish gain, as she also had such a true empathy about her. She always wanted nothing but the best for others.
James began to see Vivi’s dark, just as she began to see his light.
Her inkling proved correct, and that he was actually a lovely, sensitive, and caring man behind his usual staunch, composed —and sometimes grumpy and cantankerous— facade. He spoke of his own brother, Thomas, and how he was usually of better character than the character she was exposed to. His relationship with his brother reminded her a lot of her relationship with her brother. How opposite yet similar they were to their siblings, and how evident it seemed that they had gotten through rough periods of their lives with the support of their siblings. They were both learning of the depth within the other, and it was happening almost organically.
And yes, James was very much attracted to Vivi, he always had been. But he tried very hard not to look at her through a gaze of desire. She was a very gorgeous woman to many, may people—although he preferred the term radiant, in relation to her— and she attracted many gazes, and often without her realising. He was able to nullify those certain desires that he felt for her, as he felt that she had already become one of the truest friends he had ever had. He felt very lucky in his new found friendship with Vivi. He reflected of his gratitude for her now as they sat opposite each other, sharing another piece of chocolate cake, that accompanied their teas that sat upon his kitchen table.
“I should read it though. I remember watching the film when it came out, and then I wrote some short essay on it for school or something, but I should read the book”. Vivienne was referring to A Midsummer Nights Dream. James was quite an avid reader and follower of Shakespeare and his work. That was his thing, his vice - reading. Where as for Vivienne, it was music.
“You’re more than welcome to borrow the book, my dear”, James added before bringing another forkful of cake to his thin lips.
“Would you read it to me?”. It was a half serious question. One that you could more easily retract if the other person turned down the idea. James gave a small laugh before replying.
“If that is what you would prefer, then yes”. He meant it, genuinely. He actually rather liked the idea of reading to her.
“I just can’t be bothered reading when I’ve finished work. The amount of reading that we have to do just kind of spoils it for me, you know? I’d much rather blast music in my ears and just drown out the day”. James completely understood what she meant about drowning out the day, as reading is what did that for him. “Obviously reading does that for you though”. See, she understood him so simply, so easily, as he did her. A warmth would radiate across his chest when she did something like that, when she essentially worded his thought or feeling.
“I could read some to you now if you like?”, James offered while Vivi took care of the last bite that he purposely left for her. The real chocolatety bit at the top, the lump of rich icing. Her face lit up at the idea, but then she quickly pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the time.
“Actually, I need to head off”. It was nearing nine in the evening at this point. “I have a… friend… coming over”. He gave a single nod. She had somewhat mentioned of her casual encounters, that she preferred to a serious commitment. All that she had said was that “it was easier”, and that was the end of that conversation. He wanted to know more about her love life and its history, but then again, he didn’t. So he wouldn’t raise it. He was finding that even at the brief mention of her causal encounters, that his stomach would grow heavy.
“Understandable. I hope you have a good night”, he said genuinely as he walked her to his front door.
“Oh I will”, she said with a wink and quick chuckle. “Thank you for dinner and dessert, James. It’s my turn to cook next”. She stood up on her tip toes and planted a soft, but quick, kiss to his cheek.
“It was my pleasure, dear. Stay safe”. That warm feeling that James had felt across his chest earlier, now felt more somber upon her leaving, before he disregarded it for the night.
Oh, but how innocent thoughts of Vivi stayed upon his mind until sleep took over. Well, mostly innocent.