“Oh.”
The giant store next to us makes Caffeine Couture look like a speck in comparison. It’s all sleek blue and gold signs, with a doorman who wears white gloves.
“I think I saw a giant fish tank through the doorway yesterday,” I say.
Ashley stares at me, her mouth falling open. “You’ve never been inside?”
“No.”
“Oh my God.” She scoffs. “We have to rectify that. I go in there at least once a month to try on their most expensive designs. They’re gorgeous. They have the most beautiful pieces.”
“Do you own any?”
She laughs before sighing at my question. “Babe, I’d need to sell a kidney to afford even the deposit on one of the designs I like.” She picks up the tip jar and fishes out the bills from inside it. “But a girl’s got to have motivation, you know?” She winks as she hands me my cut.
I tuck it inside my bra.
She purses her lips as she flicks through the stack of business cards that were inside the tip jar.
“Real estate,” she reads. “Hmm, means he can sell you a fantasy more than he might be willing to deliver on it.” She tucks the card to the back of the pile and moves on to the next. “Cuthbert Taylor.” She wrinkles her nose. “Imagine calling that out as you come?” She tips her head to one side, studying it. “Still, he’s a doctor. And I think he was the one who smelled good.” She puts his card into the pocket of her apron.
“Ooh, here’s one for you.” She shoves a card into my hand.
“A lawyer?” I screw my nose up as I study the thick gunmetal gray card embossed with gold font.
“Yeah. Maybe he can help you with everything, you know? And you won’t have to work all these extra shifts… not that I don’t love you being here.” She smiles at me, then sighs. “I just don’t want to see you running yourself into the ground.”
“I’m fine. And I’m saving faster than I thought with all the extra flirting tips,” I say, forcing my tone lighter. I pat my bra as a cold prickle runs up my spine, like it does whenever I think about these past few months and how tough things have been financially.
Ashley looks at me like she doesn’t buy a word of my fake bravado, but keeps her mouth shut, knowing that I won’t back down. I know she’s trying to be a good friend, but I’ll hire a lawyer myself once I’ve saved enough.
“Fine.” She sighs. “Keep the card, though. Call him. Go for dinner. Get some dick. You need to go out and have fun. You’re twenty-seven. Not seventy.”
“I’ll think about it,” I tell her, knowing I’ll toss the card the minute I finish my shift.
She nods approvingly. “Good.”
“Besides,” I add. “I do go out and have fun.”
“Racing around the city after some weird guy in a mask doesn’t count.”
“You haven’t heard him play,” I point out. “…Rumor has it he’s appearing somewhere tonight.” I raise a brow at her.
She narrows her eyes. “Fine. I’ll come with you, just to make sure you don’t try and chain yourself to his piano or something that’ll land you in jail.”
“It’s not like that. No one usually gets near enough to touch him. Anyway, it’s not him I go for, it’s his music.”
“Got to be if you can’t see his face. It could be anyone under all those black outfits and ski masks.”
I grab a cloth and start wiping the counter, hoping to distract Ashley from my goofy smile. He’s been dubbedThe Masked Maestro. A guy who wears all black and pops up in random places across the city with a piano, which he plays so beautifully, like he’s been doing it his whole life. No one knows his identity. Although social media has conspiracy theories over who he could be. But I like not knowing. I love the mystery. And I go to hear him play rather than watch him. Sometimes I close my eyes and just feel the music running through my veins like the blood I need to live. It’s my sanctuary.
“I don’t care.” I shrug. “I go for his music. Not knowing which song he’s going to choose. How he’s going to play it.”
“You’re such a romantic.” Ashley sighs, opening up a drawer beneath the counter and tossing the remaining business cards into the pile that’s already inside.
“I just think society values a person’s worth based upon their beauty too often. I’d choose a guy who I felt a deep connection with over abs and biceps any day.”
“Uh-huh,” Ashley hums. “I want all that too. I’d just prefer it if my soulmate also comes with a big dick, muscles, and a handsome face. I want to look at him and have the urge to rip his clothes off and ride him into next week.”
