“The kind where I find out exactly how much trouble I’m in.” I lean against the counter while we wait. “Figured I’d show up armed with premium bribery material.”
“Smart strategy. Though if you’re going for maximum impact, you probably should have gone with donuts. Everyone loves a good donut.”
“Noted for next time.” I study her face, trying to read her mood. “Speaking of smart strategies, what brings you to this particular corner of coffee excellence?”
“I’m heading to the recording studio.”
“Recording studio? Like music?”
“Commercials usually.” There’s something guarded in her tone, like she’s not sure how much she wants to share.
“That’s actually really cool. I’ve always wondered what that’s like – sitting in a booth, making ordinary scripts sound interesting.”
She tilts her head slightly. “Most people assume it’s easy. Just reading, right?”
“Most people are idiots.” The response is automatic, but I mean it. “I can barely make grocery lists sound coherent. The fact that you can make people want to buy whatever you’re selling? That’s talent.”
“Well, when you put it like that...”
“Order for Dex!” the barista calls out.
As I collect my caffeine arsenal, she grabs her single latte and heads toward the door. I catch up with her on the sidewalk.
“So,” I say, falling into step beside her. “Since I’ve now successfully purchased you coffee without causing any collateral damage, I’m thinking this counts as character growth.”
“Don’t get too excited. The day is young.”
“True. I could still trip over my own feet and take out a fire hydrant or something.” I pause at the crosswalk. “Though in my defense, the coffee incident was at least fifty percent your fault.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me?”
“You were sitting there, looking all...” I gesture vaguely at her, “focused and professional. Very distracting for those of us who are easily confused by competence.”
She stares at me for a moment, and I think I’ve gone too far. Then she laughs – not the polite little chuckle I get from dates, but a laugh that lights up her whole face. The sound hits me like something I didn’t see coming, it’s raspy and sexy and real and now the only thing I want to do is hear it again.
“That’s got to be the worst excuse I’ve ever heard,” she says, but she’s still smiling.
“Thank you. I’ve been practicing terrible excuses for years. It’s become something of an art form.”
“I can tell.” The light changes, and we cross together. “Let me guess – you’ve used the ‘distracted by competence’ line before?”
“Actually, no. That one was specifically crafted for this moment.” I grin at her. “How’d I do?”
“Terrible,” she says, but there’s warmth in it now. “Absolutely terrible.”
“I’ll take it.”
We reach the other side, and she pauses, coffee cup cradled in both hands. For a moment, I think she’s going to say something else. Then her expression shutters again, just slightly.
“Well,” she says, “thanks for the coffee. And for not spilling this one.”
“Yet,” I add helpfully. “There’s still time.”
Another small smile. “Try to resist the urge.”
I watch her walk away, noting the way she doesn’t look back. Most women would. Would find some excuse to turn around, to check if I’m still watching, to give me another opening.
She doesn’t. She just disappears around the corner, leaving me standing on the sidewalk with my drink carriers and the strangest feeling that I just had the most interesting conversation I’ve had in months.
