Chapter 2
Natalie
“Ithought you were off today.” Gwen appeared beside me as I was bundling old newspapers for recycling.
“I took Ellen’s shift. She said she had a family emergency.” I cut a long piece of twine and wrapped it around a dusty stack.
Gwen lowered her voice. “Have you noticed that her family emergencies always seem to happen when there is a shitty job to do like dealing with dusty newspapers?” She blew a stream of dust off the closest pile and wrinkled her nose.
“You don’t have to take people’s shifts or switch days just because they ask. ”
I shrugged. “I don’t mind.” That was a lie.
I did mind. I hated the dusty jobs. They left my hands dry, my clothes messy and me sneezing for days.
But when someone asked me for something, I instinctively said yes.
Hello, my name is Natalie, and I am a people pleaser.
I liked to think that I was solving problems but realistically, I just hated saying no.
“Besides, I have to order the food for Bernie’s retirement party. ”
Gwen rested a hand on her hip. “You got roped into planning the party too?”
“Just ordering the food.” I sneezed and a plume of dust filled the air. “Oh, and I have to get the decorations after work.”
She shook her head and muttered something under her breath as she walked away.
I studied the pile of neatly wrapped bundles at my feet.
I had been at this for over an hour and had barely made a dent in it.
The sign for the coffee shop down the block shone through the window like a beacon.
I was a moth to the flame. I was a bee to the flower.
I was a coffee addict willing to spend seven dollars on the good stuff. I grabbed my purse.
******
“So, you send me off with a book about a plague and keep the dirty stuff for yourself?”
I jolted where I stood in line at the coffee shop and my book clattered to the floor. I turned around and looked into Jake’s blue eyes and felt a flutter in my chest.
He reached down and picked up the book, examining the cover. It was a less-than-discreet image of a near-naked woman straddling a shirtless guy.
I felt blood rush to my cheeks. “The Stand is a great book, and I didn’t think romance was your style.” It was a last-ditch effort to keep the conversation on books and away from naked straddling, but my voice cracked.
“If I’d known that was an option,” he said as he gestured towards the book, “I would have considered it. Mind if I join you?”
It was happening. We were going to shift from librarian and patron to just two people in a coffee shop.
I nodded hard enough that my earring bounced and smacked against my cheek.
He moved to stand beside me, my shoulder brushing against the middle of his bicep.
He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved forest green tee. He looked good enough to eat.
Possible wedding color? A late fall ceremony?
I bit down on the inside of my cheek and forced myself to stay in reality.
This was a pattern I knew I had to break.
I was a romantic at heart. I wanted to have the kind of relationship they made cheesy movies about.
This sometimes—okay often—led to me looking past the get-to-know-you phase and mentally jumping onto a committed path to long-term wedded bliss.
I deserved the real thing, and I shouldn’t settle for anything less. I had to start at step one. Technically, step zero since this wasn’t a date, even if I wanted it to be.
“What can I get for you?” The young woman behind the counter beamed.
“Medium black coffee for me, what you would like?” Jake pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.
“Chai latte with a shot of vanilla please, biggest size you have.” I pulled a bill from my own purse and put it in the tip jar as Jake swiped his card.
We grabbed our drinks and headed for a table. I really should head back to work, but since this wasn’t my day to work anyway, I decided against it.
“Biggest size? You must be having a day.” He folded his big frame into the chair and his knees came to rest against mine.
I blew on my latte. “My desire to please got me into a very dirty situation this morning.”
He choked on his coffee and grabbed a napkin to wipe his chin. “How dirty are we talking here? I’ve seen what you read, so it has to be good.”
I buried my face in my hands as my skin burned scarlet. “Not what I meant. Oh my God, not at all what I meant.”
“Don’t get shy on me now, I want to hear the rest of the story.”
I dropped my hands, my face was probably a blotchy, red mess as I laughed hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. “I was bundling old newspapers. It was a dusty job that someone else was supposed to do.”
His eyes sparkled with laughter, and he leaned in. “I like my version of the story better.”