“My friend Jules, mostly,” I say, sipping my coffee. “She doesn’t mind posing for me. Then my parents too. They live back in New Hampshire.”
His eyes search my face like he’s discovering something. That hint of a smile has broadened into something almost fully realized. And that has me squirming in my seat.
My cell buzzes in my pocket, and the bells above the front door chime. My stomach drops before I even look up. I already know.
Jules.
She sweeps into the shop like a storm front, her wavy dark hair bouncing, her oversized purse knocking into a display of birthday cards. “Avey, Avey, Avey!” she calls out, spotting me. “I’m double-parked, let’s get outta here. I got us a reservation at—”
She stops. Her eyes land on me, then move to Chris. She examines the book in his lap, then spots the edge of his tattoo peeking out from beneath his sleeve. Her expression instantly shifts from one of glee to one of stern concern.
“Who’s this?” It’s a rhetorical question, which really meanswhat are you doing?
“Oh.” I glance at Chris. His expression has sealed shut again, causing my heart to sink. “Yeah, we just met. We were talking—”
“Great,” she says, already at my side, her hand closing around my arm. “We’ve got plans, so let’s go.” She flashes a fake smile at Chris with no warmth behind it. “It waswonderfulto meet you.”
Chris says nothing. He just watches as Jules pulls me to my feet, his expression something I can’t decipher. Anger? Frustration?
I let Jules pull me to the door because I don’t know what else to do. Making a scene would be wrong, especially as an employee. And she clearly doesn’t want to be introduced further.
“Who the hell was that?” she barks when we reach the door.
“He’s a customer. Comes in every Tuesday.”
“Avery,” she sighs, gripping my shoulders. “That man looks like he eats iron for breakfast. Did you see his tattoo? Men get those inprison.”
I scoff. “You don’t know that. He said he was a security consultant—”
“And you believed him? You don’t know anything about him.”
“I know his name is Chris, he likes black coffee, and he is interested in my photography.”
I’m feeling defensive now. After all it took for me to go over there and get him to ease up and talk to me, now Jules is pulling me away and basically calling me dumb and naïve.
She’s not entirely wrong, though. I am naïve when it comes to men. I’ve never had a boyfriend or been on a real date. The only guys I talk to are the ones I’m ringing up at the store.
Still, I’m offended.
“Avery,” Jules sighs, closing her eyes before opening them and looking at me. “I need you to promise me that you won’t see this man again.”
I can see where this is headed, and I really don’t want to get into an argument with her. “Fine. I promise.” It’s a lie, but it doesn’t matter. Chris comes in every Tuesday, so I’ll just wait until next week. The next six days will be painful, though.
“Okay, let’s get out of here.”
“One second, I have to drop my apron out back,” I tell her. “I’ll meet you at the car.”
I walk quickly through the employees-only door and hang my apron up on the rack. Part of me just wants to say screw it and go back to Chris and finish our conversation. But that will just lead to Jules causing a bigger scene and me potentially losing my job.
So I walk back out front and head for the door. I expect Chris to be gone—having bailed after Jules’s spectacular scene—but just as I’m reaching for the handle, I feel his presence. I smell him.
I turn and find myself staring into those icy blue eyes. “When do you work next?” he whispers. “Tomorrow?”
I can barely breathe, but somehow manage to reply, “No, the day after. I’m off at noon.”
Something exciting flashes in his eyes, causing my body to tense and my belly to warm. “Okay, I’ll see you in two days, Avery.”
And then he’s gone. Out the back like a phantom, leaving me standing there stunned.
