Chapter 14 Samir
Ihadn’t expected to hear from Cole after the way he practically ran home on Sunday. I definitely hadn’t expected to hear from him so soon, or to be going out again this fast.
And yet here I was, on Tuesday evening, pumped and ready for another date with the young firefighter hunk. And here I was, once again, with an ache in my stomach and a knot on my throat as if it were my first date ever.
There was a knock on the window, and Cole waved at me from outside. Before I could respond in kind, Zainab leaned in and waved at him herself.
“He’s so freaking cute,” she gushed.
I rolled my eyes and turned my back on him so I could pick up my coat.
“Don’t forget to place the orders before nine,” I told her, and she shooed me away.
“Go away. I know my job. You go do yours.”
I glared at her and she chuckled.
“Oh, you know what I mean. Now go. Have fun.”
I shook my head and left the building, joining Cole outside.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey. Thanks for offering to pick me up.”
He shrugged and smiled. Zainab was right. He was cute.
“Pfft. You don’t need to thank me. Should we go? I hope you’re hungry.”
I nodded and followed him through the streets of Mayberry Holm that were getting more crowded by the day. Which was good for business. Not so good for living, but that was a side of Mayberry I’d had to get used to. All the festivals, and the highs and lows of tourism.
“How was your day yesterday?” he asked after a few moments.
“Good. Busy. Practiced my gift-wrapping skills all day.”
He paused and stared, and I chuckled.
“Everyone needs their books wrapped in December. And I’m a terrible gift wrapper.” Cole laughed. “And apparently it doesn’t matter how badly I wrap them; people still insist on asking me to do it.”
“Really? But it’s so easy.”
“It is? I guess they forgot to tell me. Or show me.”
“I can show you.” He chuckled.
“Okay then. I can’t wait,” I replied.
I failed to tell him both Zainab and Alina, hell, even Elliot who was new, had tried to show me, but they’d all deemed me a hopeless case.
“How was your day?” I asked.
He shrugged.
“I was working.”
“The whole day?”
He nodded.
“It’s how the shift pattern works. Twenty-four hours on, forty-eight hours off.”
I blew out a deep breath.
“Wow. I’m not complaining about twelve-hour shifts anymore.”
“I know it sounds terrible, but most of the time we’re just chilling, or sleeping at the base, so it’s not that exhausting. Unless, of course, there are a lot of incidents.”
“And? Have there been a lot of incidents this week?”
He shook his head.
“Not this week, no. But November was a bit nuts, to be honest. And I’m sure December will be wild too with all this foot traffic and all the fairy lights and electricity on overtime everywhere.”
When we reached the bay, he turned left and we walked along the waterfront a couple blocks until we stopped in front of a white, unassuming Federal style building with a red door and a hanging sign above it that read “Atelier.”
“Here we are.” Cole pointed to the door and stood by one of the two Christmas trees on either side of the door.
The hue and brightness of the fairy lights on it gave him a kind of glow that could only be described as romantic. They made his face, and his lips more specifically, look so inviting.
I stepped forward and checked with him before pushing the door open and becoming embraced by the candle-lit buzz inside. A woman stood behind the host stand and smiled widely at both of us.
“Good evening. Do you have a reservation?” she asked.
Cole gave his name, and the hostess led us to a table by the window with a sea-side view. The table had a Christmassy centerpiece with pine leaves, pinecones, dehydrated orange slices, glittery balls, and a large candle in a glass jar.
The hostess placed a leatherbound clipboard in front of each of us and asked us if we’d like tap, mineral, or sparkling water, then she left us to our own devices.
I looked around. There was a similar vibe everywhere. Attentive staff walked around, ensuring everyone was happy, cheerful smiles on every patron and candles on every table. Next to the bar was a large Christmas tree dressed in white decorations, but the rest of the floor was pretty plain.
“This is different,” I commented.
“Have you been here before?” Cole asked.
“No. I meant different than The Crown.”
Cole closed his eyes and pressed his lips together.
“Let’s not talk about that disaster of a place. I thought this place might be a better fit for a date. And they do halal.”
I smiled.
Someone was trying to outdo himself and make up for our first date, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate it. Not that the first date had been bad. Then again, I didn’t have much of a barometer on this sort of thing.
“Perfect,” I said and looked at my menu.
This was definitely no Crown. It didn’t have pages upon pages of food or an overwhelming number of dishes to choose from. It was simple yet elegant with four appetizer options, five entrees, and three desserts.
“Mmm, the beef bourguignon sounds just about right in this weather,” Cole hummed, and I nodded.
“I quite like the sound of the roast lamb.” Though everything seemed equally mouthwatering.
“I think I’m ready,” Cole said and put the menu down.
“Um… there don’t seem to be any prices anywhere.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Cole waved me off.
“I can’t let you pay again,” I said.
“You can and you will. You paid so much money at the auction. It’s the least I can do.”
“Yeah, but it was for charity.”
I didn’t tell him Alina and Zainab had helped with that particular check. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, and I didn’t want him feeling guilty for anything. Besides, it was my friends that made me bid so high. Offering to split it threeways was the least they could do.
“Don’t worry, Samir. Besides, you’re doing me a favor.”
“A favor how?”
“Well, this place is a strong competition for the Grill, and I’ve always wanted to check it out, so our date was the perfect excuse.”
“Well, if it’s for research, then okay.” I chuckled. “What’s so special about this place? I wouldn’t have thought it’d be competition.”
He sighed.
“Every restaurant is competition.” He pointed out. “But this place is different. They change their menu almost daily. They don’t have a theme. They could be doing Italian one day and steaks and fries the next. Their chefs have total control to do whatever they want. To create art. Hence the name.”
I nodded.
“I guess their unpredictability can be dangerous,” I said.
“Yeah. Or we could learn something from them. Not all competition is bad competition. My parents taught me that.”
“I wish I’d met you two years ago.” I sighed and sat back, smiling.
“Why?”
“I spent so much time stressing about the bookstore, about other bookstores popping up, or any place adding books to their offerings that I gave myself hives.”
“Oh. That’s awful,” he said.
“I’m kidding, but it’s not far off from the truth.”
“I would have thought the cat shelter side of the business would be your edge on anyone else though.”
“It is. But that was before we opened. I wasn’t sure if the fundraising side would be enough to cover the cats, so I thought I need the book side to do exceptionally well to make it possible to care for the cats.”
“Are things working out now?”
I nodded.
“They do. Zainab has monetized our social media so that helps, as does the following we’ve built. And I came up with a subscription idea most of my regulars take up.”
“Subscription? What kind?”
“It’s nothing fancy. They pay a monthly fee, or their choice, for the cats, and they get points to buy books.”
Cole smiled and leaned on his hand on the table, staring at me.
“That’s… very smart,” he said. His eyes didn’t waver and neither did their effect.
It felt as if he were looking into my soul, or trying to, anyway. The longer I stayed under his scrutiny, the harder it became to breathe or swallow. The way the candle’s flame danced in the dark of his eyes was intoxicating. Something I could watch until the end of time and never get bored.
Thankfully, the waitress stopped by the table to take our order and saved me from total embarrassment.
As good as the food sounded, it tasted even better, though we stopped short of getting dessert. After Cole took care of the check, we went back out.
“I know the perfect place for something sweet,” he said.
“They had good desserts,” I pointed behind us.
Cole laughed.
“I never have dessert in the same place I dine.”
“What? Why?”
He shrugged.
“It’s just… I don’t. Neither does my brother. I guess we both know desserts aren’t the main focus of any restaurant. But those who focus on desserts and baked goods? Those are the best.”
We reached Main Street before long and got swallowed up in the flurry of the crowd visiting the Christmas market that had taken up the entire road.
We passed stalls selling hot cider, wine, gingerbread and snowpeople cookies, and hot cocoa with peppermint sticks. We stopped in front of a pastry stall occupied by a tall, lanky guy with dark features.
“Hi, can we get two cones please?” Cole told him before he turned to me. “You have to try these. They’re called…” He glanced at the stall owner who chuckled and said “trdelník” in an accent I couldn’t define, and Cole nodded.
“Yeah. That. They’re traditional Czech pastry cones.”
“What filling do you want?” the guy asked, and I assumed his accent was Czech.
“What do you have?” I asked and paused to turn to Cole. “This is halal, right?”
“Of course,” Cole replied with a smile. “I’ve learned my lesson, Mr. Ali.”
I smiled too and jostled his shoulder. I got lost in his gaze for a moment. It seemed like a more and more regular occurrence when around him, and I didn’t know what to do about it, if anything.
I still wasn’t clear if Cole was doing this dating thing because of the auction or because he was genuinely interested in getting to know me.
One would think the way we look at each other, the way we linger when we do, would make the answer obvious, but I wasn’t sure. Maybe I was projecting or hallucinating. Or maybe I was terrible at reading the signs seeing as I was so inexperienced in the dating game.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and it took me a moment to realize I’d gone all still and quiet, lost in my own head.
I gave a quick nod, and he passed my chocolate and strawberry-filled trdelník to me.
We both dove in and wandered around the market, browsing the various stalls, and getting immersed in the holiday spirit.
“You were right. This is freaking good,” I moaned a few minutes later.
“I know.” He smirked.
It was messy but delicious. It was a good thing I always carried antibacterial wipes with me because there wasn’t an inch of our fingers that weren’t covered in chocolate.
It took a lot of finger acrobatics to get the wipes out, and even more to clean ourselves, and by the time we managed it my stomach was aching from laughing too hard.
“Next time, we’re asking for a knife and fork,” Cole said.
“I don’t think they can be eaten with a knife and fork.” I chuckled, trying not to get too hopeful by his mention of next time.
Surely that was good, right? Surely him wanting to do this again meant he was interested.
I sighed.
Why am I so depressingly clueless about men?
Maybe there was a dictionary or encyclopedia I could read because my head could explode from trying to interpret everything the right way.
Or maybe that was where I was going wrong, and I simply needed to go with the flow.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I nodded and looked at him.
His eyes looked as if they were on fire, reflecting every light that surrounded us, making him utterly enchanting.
I stared at him, and he stared at me, and I was unsure if I should make the first move. If there was even a move to be made.
It felt right though. It felt like the moment. Like in all the romantic movies I’d watched and all the romance books I’d read.
A moment of stillness amidst chaos, when two souls felt closer than they’d felt all night.
Surely that was the moment to share a first kiss.
Before I could decide, or make a move, Cole blinked, turned away, and bit his lip.
“It’s getting late. We should head back,” he said.
I didn’t say anything. I just nodded and followed him.
Hm, maybe I read the signs wrong.
At least I hadn’t made an utter fool of myself by trying to kiss him in front of all those people.