Page 3 of Just One Moment
“Oh,NewYork,I’vealways wanted to visit.Youstudied accounting,Ipresume?Aman good with numbers.”Herability to overlook my timidness surprises me, plus, she doesn’t appear put off.Ichance a look at her and the one thingIdon’t expect is for her to wink at me before her lips pout to the side in contemplation.
Inthe next beat, her hand is on me again, andIdon’t know whatIdid to even deserve her attention tonight, let alone her soft, warm touch, but hereIam.Openingup her clutch with her other hand, she pulls out a pencil and uncaps it with her teeth.Shetugs me closer,Igo willingly, and as she bends over my arm, the hair at the top of her head tickles my chin.
Somethingsweet fills my nose.It’snot overpowering or floral, something rich and inviting.Likebrown sugar and vanilla.
Thetip of the pencil glides across my skin in quick strokes andIpeer down at what she’s doing, only to realize it’s one of those black eyeliner pencils.Iremember my little sister,Florence, explaining something about smoky eyes, which sounded painful.Whenshe’s done, she pulls back and admires her artwork.Orthe ten digits she’s marked into my skin.
“IpromisedJoIwouldn’t leave her for long.That’smy number…”Shetrails off and her eyes go wide as she spies the stack of napkins next to my glass. “Oops.GuessIcould havewritten on one of them.Buttext me, and we can arrange that coffee if you like.Orcome by the bakery,I’measy.Anyway, whatI’vebeen trying to say is thatJomentionedIshould speak to you about the bakery and the restaurant working together.Icould provide you guys with freshly baked bread and pastries.”
Myheart drops like a pebble in a well.She’snot here to get to know me; she’s here because she wants me to set up a business contract.
Myeyes dart from her and the numbers on my forearm.Ifthis wereBooth, he’d somehow turn this around.Heck, he’d be the one writing the numbers on the girl’s arm.Whycan’tItalk to a woman like a normal guy?
Muchto my disappointment,Quinn’seyes leave mine as she waves at someone across the room and gives them a wide grinI’dstupidly hoped was only for me.
“I’mreally gladImet you,Graham.”Hersmile and tone are so genuine,Iquestion if she’s still talking to me.BeforeIcan tell herItwas amazing to meet you, she gives my arm one last squeeze and walks away.
ThemomentIlose sight of her, the room turns cold, like her presence was the only warmth in here.Hopingno one sees me,Iquickly type her number into my phone, before some drunk idiot spills a drink on my arm and washes away the evidence that she was actually here and wasn’t a figment of my imagination.I’mdesperate to leave, butIstick around a little while longer.
Aboutan hour later, whenIspot a tipsyQuinntaking unsteady steps into the cool night alone, my goodbye barely passes my lips asIabandonPatrickat our table.Ineed to make sureQuinngets home safe.Selfishly,Ihope it meansIget to spend another five minutes with her, even if it just ends up with the silence being filled with her chatter.Withoutcurious eyes around us, maybeIcan take her up on her offer for coffee, even if it is to discuss a business relationship.
SinceI’vebeen single, no one has caught my eye the way she has.
Myhope of getting to spend more time with her is desecrated whenIwatch her climb into the back of a truck along with two other people who were at the bar tonight.Herlaughter echoes across the parking lot; carefree and bright.Maybeit’s a good thingIdidn’t find the courage to ask her out.There’sno chance in hell someone so quiet and awkward could make such a vivacious woman like her laugh.IwishIcould be that person, though.
Thedriver is one of the restaurant’s servers, whoItrust to get her home safe.Itdoesn’t stop me wishing they’d get a flat as they drive out of the parking lot.IknowIdidn’t say much, and that would normally bother most people, butQuinnseemed happy talking to me.AndIliked listening to her.Shemade the silenceIusually leave in my wake a little less lonely.
Iwait for the taillights to disappear beforeIdrag my feet over to where myJeepis parked.Disappointmentin myself like lead in my boots.HadInot been a nervous wreck,Iwould have asked her out there and then.Typedher number into my phone and called her, so she had my number too.Iwould have insistedIdrive her home and waited until she was safely inside before driving away.
Only,I’mnot that guy, and a girl likeQuinnis best matched with someone confident and outgoing.
Laterthat night, afterI’veletCurlyout and locked up,Ican’t stop overthinking tonight’s interactions.Asusual,Iput my thoughts down on paper before heading to bed, letting the wordsIcouldn’t find flood the pages.Allmy worries, doubts, and frustrations inked for my eyes only.
TonightImet beauty incarnate.
Quinn.
HowIhadn’t heard about her before has an odd sense of anger bubbling in me.Iwas aware of the bakery that had opened onRobinRoad, butI’mhardly ever in town.MaybeifIdidn’t have such a dislike for sugary snacks,Iwould have met her sooner.
Iwas so enthralled by her thatIalmost forgot what a fucking messIwas making of our meeting.Almost.
WhoamIkidding thinking she would ever be interested in me.It’sa good thingIcouldn’t string a coherent sentence together.Iwould have bored her to death.Iwatched her laugh and dance all night.Sofull of life.
AndI’mjust not anything that would interest her.
Ijust wishIcould be.
Ialways feel lighter afterward, but something still niggles in the back of my head, scratching to get out.BeforeIoverthink it, pen meets paper, andIfind myself doing somethingIhaven’t done for a long time.
Etchedinto a fresh notebook, sit three short lines.
Aprism of colors
Herbeauty outshines us all
Toobright for dull gray
CHAPTER TWO