Page 11 of Gary
She nodded as she set about cleaning the counter.
“What did you do before?”
“I was in the corporate world. An admin.”
“And you decided to leave and do this…” He gestured towards the shelves. “Why?”
She finished the counter and dumped the rag into a pail at her feet. “How’s the latte?”
It was not exactly his favorite, but he would have said anything to please her. “Good.”
“Just good?” Her winged eyebrows lifted.
“Great.” He mumbled, taking another sip and doing his best not to grimace. “Why did you leave?”
She came around the counter and took up her position on the sofa. He almost swallowed the muffin when she curled her feet under her. “I left because I hated the corporate world, the rat race, the petty backbiting among the staff to fight for position and a bigger salary.
My mother loves coffee and my dad…” She looked away from him and he felt his heart twisting at the profound look of sadness on her exquisite face.
“Well, he was a coffee drinker. We all are. Mom is a retired schoolteacher and when I mentioned that it would be an innovative idea to open this shop, she went with it. We pooled our savings and here we are.”
“Your dad? He is dead?”
“Yes,” she murmured huskily.
He wanted to ask how he died, but did not want to cause her further sadness.
“The books?”
“What?”
“How did the books come into the equation?”
She smiled and literally took his breath away. “I love reading and I figured I would combine my two favorite things.”
“Coffee and books.”
“How is business?”
“Very good.” She laughed as he looked around the empty store. “This is the low time. We have our best hours in the morning and late afternoon.”
“I see.” His latte was almost finished as well as his muffin. He was going to order another. He had come here trying to get a feel of the place his father’s company had built and never expected anything like this. “It’s nice.”
“Why, thank you.” That smile again. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”
“I am new to the area. I lived several miles away before I…, before I left.”
“Left?” She had a very endearing tilt to her head that made him want to slide onto the sofa and pull her into his arms. The collar of her dress sagged open slightly to reveal a swell of breasts. Desire, such as he had never known before, flooded his entire body.
“I…, er…, I have been living in Italy.”
“Italy, huh? Fascinating.” She had a way of looking at him as if he was the most important person in the world and it made him feel powerful and needed. “With family?”
“My mother’s side. She was Italian.”
“Was?”
“She died.”