A Breathtaking First Encounter

“Earl Grey” The barista shouted for presumably the third time. Frustration lingering in her gaze as she looked in my direction. I rushed up to the counter nodded and whispered a thank you before promptly pivoting and going back to my safe zone.

My red suede chair sat comfortably in the far corner of the coffee shop, I sat down crossing my legs and gently placing my tea on the table just beside me. The dark wood worn and ringed from the many before me that have found solace in that quiet little corner. I gave the lobby a once over, admiring the dark leather and dark wood that gave the place a real old time speakeasy vibe. The rest of the lobby was empty with the exception of Earl, the local homeless man who would pool his previous day's earnings to get a cup of coffee the second the doors were opened. It was a quarter past six and I had just a little time left in the quiet before the business folk started pouring in desperate for their morning cup of joe .

I picked up my book and thumbed through the pages to find where I had left off. My drug of choice this week was a novel about the illusive Siren. I found comfort in the pages of fantasy books. It started with reading the entire Harry Potter series and has manifested into me hitting up the book store once a week and grabbing a fantasy book at random. Not every book was a winner, but I never started one without at least seeing how it ends. The chipper ding of the door pulled me from my book an hour later, I felt the hair on my arms perk up as it did.

I looked up to see a man had walked in, not a day over twenty-five if I had to guess. His wavy blond locks bounced at the back of his head, thick rim black glasses pushed back to hold his hair out of his face and his sun-kissed skin popped against his plain white t-shirt. The barista who had spent the entire morning glowering at her phone, no doubt arguing with someone, had suddenly become peppy as she slapped on a smile and bounced her way over to the register. I couldn’t seem to pull myself away from this man that had just come in, my hair on my arm remained erect though the initial buzz had worn off. I kept staring intently as he paid for his coffee and she handed him his cup, suddenly he turned and his icy blue eyes locked onto mine.

The air had suddenly become so thin I felt as if I couldn't breath, my vision began to blur in the corners of my eyes, growing until all I could focus on was the strong jawed male in front of me. I blinked, giving my eyes a hard rub, I heard my book fall to the floor and the melodical ding of the door and when I opened my eyes the stranger had gone.

“What the fuck.” I whispered to myself as I gathered my book from the floor and tossed it into my black leather satchel.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder as I made my way out in a rush, I stepped out into the dreary Portland morning and took a deep breath. My heart rate began to slow although my mind continued to race, confused by that extreme response to something as trivial as eye contact. It’s not like attractive men have never looked at me before, and while he was very good looking I wouldn’t say he was the most attractive man i’ve ever seen.

I continued to ponder all the possible, logical, reasons something like that could happen. It could be low blood sugar, or maybe I'm developing asthma, that’s a thing right? To just suddenly get asthma. Or maybe I’ve met him before, and it was an unpleasant interaction so I have blocked it out of my mind completely.

Before I knew it I was standing outside Glorias, I knocked on the door, and impatiently knocked a few seconds later as the subtle chill of the early morning was starting to set in. I peered in the window to my left to see if anyone was in there. Just as Boston emerged from the swinging door on the far wall, a cheeky grin plastered on his face as he pointed to his watch, I looked down at mine and it was a quarter to eight. I was fifteen minutes late, how in the hell am I late. I looked back up as I heard the creak of the door opening.

“You feeling okay, Marge? We were just about to send out a search party, the punctual Margaret Abernathy, fifteen minutes late.” He poked playfully.

“Oh shut it, is she mad?”

“Gloria? Are you kidding, she’s hoping you got arrested or something, she thinks you need to spice up your life a little bit.” He laughed.

“Jesus you two need to stop planning for my demise, you’re never going to corrupt me.” I smiled, shoving my way past him and hurrying to the bathroom to get myself ready.

I pulled open the large oak door to the ladies room and made my way in, tossing my bag onto the pristine white countertop I rummaged through it searching for my apron. Once I tied that snuggly around my waist I ran my hand through my curly red locks a few times before securing it snuggly at the back of my head. I paused for a moment, admiring my olive skin and blue/green eyes. The voice of my last foster mother pounded in my head. You're such a plain girl, you should wear a little makeup every once and a while.

I don’t know why that stuck with me, it’s been almost four years since I left her home and that certainly wasn’t the most horrible thing someone has said to me in my thirteen years in and out of foster homes. My mom died when I was five and I have no idea who or where my father is, with no living, sane, relatives I was taken by the great state of California and condemned to a life of home hopping until I was legally deemed old enough to take care of myself.

With a sigh and a final brush of my apron I grabbed my bag and made my way to the kitchen, I swung the door open and the mouth watering smell of bacon flooded my nostrils. I waved at Henry the chef and his seu chef Abel. Both men in their forties, they served in the marines together before they got out and opened a food truck; about seven years ago Gloria found them and recruited them to help her open her restaurant.

“I was just about to send out a search party woman!” Gloria emerged from her office, her bright pink glasses latched onto the front of her floral blouse that stood out beautiful against her ebony skin.

“I am so sorry Gloria, I have no idea what happened.”

“Don’t apologize honey, everything okay?” She leaned against the door frame.

“Ya fine, I just must have lost track of time is all.”

“Mmm, that has a boy written all over. What’s his name?” She proaded.

“No name, just a face, and biceps you could crack walnuts with.” I zoned, his icy blue eyes flashing through my mind.

“Earth to Margaret,” Gloria waved in my face, I snapped out of it realizing she was now standing right in front of me, “dang girl he must have been something to have you all googly like this.”

“Honestly, he was not even my type.” I responded, walking over to the hooks set up at the back door and throwing my satchel up on one, “In a line up I would have picked Boston before this guy, but-”

I was cut off by the light squeak of the door, “Oh, Marge I am flattered.”

Boston mused behind me, he sauntered in and crossed his arms over his chest, the elaborate tattoos that blanketed his right arm stretched out with the movement. His dark brown hair ruffled, but in a purposeful sort of way and the smallest hint of stubble covered his chin. His jaw flexed as he continued to flash his pearly white teeth in my direction. I had always found Boston attractive, but we were just friends. I have seen him flirt with far too many women around here to even think about anything other than friendship, but that didn’t seem to stop him from asking every few weeks.

I rolled my eyes and playfully shoved him with my shoulder as I exited the kitchen, “Down boy,” I said playfully as the door swung behind me.

I looked around and it looked like Boston had begun setting all the tables for me, salt and pepper were already out so I went over to the bar and grabbed the trays of milk bottles filled with glass beads and fake daisies and set one at the center of each table. Rows of booths with light grey cushioning lined the walls and small round tables were scattered across the rest of the floor, elegant white table cloths lay over the top of each and every one. As soon as I finished placing each bottle on the table I heard Gloria come out, keys jingling in her hand as she made her way to the front door and unlocked it.

With that the customers gradually trickled in, I was by myself for the first few hours and then the barbie twins made their debut. What they lacked in work ethic they made up for in perfectly toned legs and bleach blonde hair. Gorgeous by anyone's standards yes, but incredibly dense, they didn’t notice that I would start taking over their tables shortly after they arrived. I will give some of the credit to Boston though, him simply existing behind the bar tended to take up a fair amount of their attention no matter how busy we are.

The hours passed by in a blur, finally the last few brunchers made their exit and the evening staff made their way in. I worked diligently getting the place cleaned up and ready to go for the evening rush, by myself I might add. Thing one and thing two proudly perched at the end of the bar counting their money for the shift, bragging loudly about the club they were going to tonight in hopes that Boston may want to tag along. He seemed none the wiser as he polished champagne flutes and waited for his releaf to get there.

I went to the back and grabbed my bag. Waving goodbye to Gloria as she berated one of our vendors for not sending the right product I made my way out to the dining room and slid into a stool at the bar, as far away from the twins as I could. With a sigh I slung my bag over the back side of the stool and counted up my haul for the morning before shoving it in my wallet and back into my bag. I placed my elbows on the counter and my face in my palms, attempting to rub the exhaustion out of my eyes when I heard the faint tap of a glass being placed on the bar top. I looked up to see a bubbly amber liquid, behind it was Boston.

“You know one of these days those girls will catch on.” He crossed his arm and raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

We stayed like that for a moment before bursting out in laughter.

“Right,” I said, picking up the glass and taking a few large gulps. “Can I get some pineapple juice?” I smiled, sliding the glass back at him.

“You’re kidding, I thought this would be the one!” He said, grabbing the small can and topping my beer off with a splash of pineapple juice. “One of these days you’ll make it through a whole beer without adding any juice.”

“What can I say, a woman wants what she wants.” I shrugged, pulling the glass back to me.

“And what do you want, Marge.” He placed his palms on the bar and leaned in.

I picked up my glass and gulped down more of my beer. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” I responded calmly, placing my glass back down and running my finger along the rim.

“I would.” He said bluntly, his demeanor shifted slightly and his eyes pleaded for me to give him something.

“Why?” I asked

Just as he opened his mouth to speak we were interrupted by the shrill sound of what could only be one of the stepford sisters. They both pranced over, curls bouncing with each step, hips swaying in unison.

“So Boston, Gabby and I are going to that new club tonight, Moxie, have you heard of it?” Abby questioned, placing a perfectly manicured hand on her hip.

He sighed and bowed his head before stepping back and crossing his arms, “I’ll be there,” he winked and they gushed, giving him a wave and scurrying out the door.

“Why do you encourage them,” I questioned, shaking my head.

“They strike me as a little crazy, got to stay on their good side.” He smirked, “Besides, I’ve got to go, it’s the grand opening and a friend of mine is DJing.”

“Gosh why are you over here slumming it with me, you’re so cool.” I teased, picking up my glass and chugging the last bit of beer left. “I should probably get going before I drag your social status down. Be careful tonight, and don’t forget to wrap it before you tap it.” I shot him with a finger gun and threw him a wink as I slung my bag over my shoulder.

He chucked his towel at me and it landed just short of my feet, “I am not picking that up.” and I turned to leave.

“You should come!” he shouted after me.

“Doubt it.” I shouted back without turning around.