The thought of Victoria sent his mind back to Sophia's painting and Liana's too-accurate assessment of his feelings. Perhaps it was time to acknowledge what everyone around him seemed to already know. But that was a concern for another day. Today was about Liana and her birthday celebration. The complicated entanglements of his professional and personal life could wait.
"So what's on the birthday agenda?" Liana asked, helping herself to another piece of the fresh sourdough bread James had picked up from the bakery down the street.
"Brunch at Cloverly, then the botanical gardens, then—"
A knock at the door interrupted his recitation of the day's plans. James frowned, checking his watch. It wasn't even 9 AM yet.
"Popular guy," Liana commented drily. "Maybe your faceless portrait artist is bringing you the sequel—'James Without a Torso.'"
"Very funny," James muttered, moving to answer the door.
His suspicion proved correct when he found Sophia standing in the hallway again, this time holding a small wrapped package and wearing a sundress that seemed excessive for a Sunday morning building encounter.
"Good morning!" she said brightly. "I heard voices and figured you and your sister were up. It's her birthday today, right? May fifth?"
James blinked, taken aback. "How did you know that?"
Sophia laughed, the sound light and musical. "You mentioned it last year when you were heading out with a gift bag. I have an artist's memory for details." She held out the small package. "Just a little something to welcome her to the building. Nothing fancy."
Before James could politely decline, Liana appeared beside him. "That's so thoughtful of you," she said, accepting the gift with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You really shouldn't have."
"It's no trouble," Sophia insisted, her gaze drifting past them to survey the apartment interior visible from the doorway. "I love birthdays. Perhaps we could all go out for a celebratory drink later? I know a lovely wine bar just two blocks away."
"Unfortunately, we have a full day planned," James interjected smoothly. "Including dinner reservations."
"Another time, then," Sophia said, undeterred. Her eyes lingered on James with unmistakable interest. "Did you find a place for the painting? I was thinking it would look striking in your entryway."
"I'm still deciding," James replied diplomatically. "Thank you again for the gift."
"Open yours, Liana," Sophia encouraged, making no move to leave.
With no graceful alternative, Liana unwrapped the small package to reveal a pair of handcrafted earrings—small copper leaves that complemented the pendant James had given her earlier.
"These are lovely," Liana said, her tone genuinely appreciative despite the awkwardness of the situation. "You're very talented."
Sophia beamed. "I noticed your environmental science textbooks when you arrived. Thought these might suit your aesthetic." She turned to James. "I notice everything about the people who matter to me."
The pointed statement hung in the air, its implication impossible to miss. Before James could formulate a response that would be both truthful and kind, Liana stepped in.
"We should probably get going if we want to make our brunch reservation," she said pleasantly but firmly. "Thank you again for the earrings, Sophia. Very thoughtful."
Understanding she was being dismissed, Sophia nodded, though her disappointed expression was evident. "Of course. Enjoy your birthday, Liana. And James—" her gaze softened when it landed on him "—I'm in all evening if you want to stop by after your celebrations. I'd love to hear how the dinner at Altura goes."
As the door closed behind her, Liana turned to James with wide eyes. "Okay, several things: First, how does she know where we're having dinner? Second, did she just invite you over for a nightcap after my birthday celebration? And third, 'I notice everything about the people who matter to me'? James, that woman is not just interested in you—she's planning your wedding."
James sighed, returning to the kitchen to refill his coffee. "To answer your questions: I have no idea how she knows our dinner plans, yes that was absolutely an invitation, and I'm well aware the situation has progressed beyond simple interest."
"Progressed? James, she's orbiting you like a satellite! She's giving your sister birthday gifts based on textbooks she glimpsed for two seconds. She knows your schedule, your plans, probably your shoe size and blood type too." Liana shook her head in disbelief. "This isn't just interest—it's obsession."
James knew his sister was right. What had started as friendly neighborly interactions had evolved into something concerning. The faceless portrait, the constant "coincidental" encounters, the intimate knowledge of his comings and goings—it all pointed to an unhealthy fixation that he could no longer politely ignore.
"I'll handle it," he promised again. "After your visit. Today is about celebrating you turning twenty-five, not dealing with my complicated neighbor situation."
Liana studied him for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But promise me you'll actually address it directly. No more diplomatic non-answers or polite deflections. She needs clear boundaries, James."
"I promise," he said, meaning it. "Now, birthday girl, we should get ready if we want to make that brunch reservation."
As they prepared to leave for the day's celebrations, James couldn't help glancing across the hall at Sophia's closed door. The situation had clearly escalated beyond what he'd initially dismissed as harmless attraction. The painting—with its unsettling facelessness yet perfect capture of his posture and presence—revealed an intense observation that bordered on intrusive.
More troubling was Sophia's apparent focus on his emotional state that night after the encounter with Victoria. What had Sophia seen in his expression? How much had she intuited about his complicated feelings for Victoria?
These questions would have to wait. Today was about Liana and her birthday celebration. But as they left the apartment, James made a mental note to have a direct conversation with Sophia before the situation escalated further. Her artistic insight might be impressive, but her growing fixation was becoming a problem he could no longer diplomatically avoid.
Behind them, the faceless portrait of James remained on the coffee table, an uncomfortable reminder of the emotions he worked so hard to conceal—and how transparent they apparently were to everyone but himself.