Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Berk
Another day, another man chatting with Astrid Rehn.
That’s what I spot the moment I walk into Vinyl Crush with a full report of every song on each of the albums she sold to me two days ago.
Initially, I thought I’d make it back here last night, but Stevie’s teacher had other plans.
She requested an impromptu parent teacher conference.
It seems that fourth grade teachers have changed remarkably since the days I sat in the second row of Mrs. Hosek’s class.
Miss Casto, Stevie’s homeroom teacher, is young, attractive, and not shy when it comes to mentioning the fact that she’s single.
She dropped that tidbit on me moments after I arrived in her classroom. She followed that up with a reminder when she reached out to shake my hand at the end of our meeting.
Her touch lingered. Mine didn’t.
She’s lovely, but seeing that she’s my daughter’s teacher and I find Astrid Rehn captivating at the moment, I left with a smile and a recommendation that I speak to my daughter about her penchant for talking in class.
I handled that as soon as I got home last night.
Stevie promised me that she’d limit her storytelling to recess and lunch breaks.
She never misses an opportunity to gift me with one of her stories. Before I left home to come to Vinyl Crush, Stevie kept me entertained for almost an hour with a made-up tale about an Orca whale and a girl with brown hair who befriended it.
After Stevie was done telling me her pre-bedtime story, I kissed her goodnight, reminded my sister to make sure my daughter was in bed by nine, and I set out to see my favorite musician.
I’m staring at her now as the bell above the door signals my arrival sending her gaze in my direction.
I interrupted a conversation she was having with a brown-haired guy wearing jeans, a hoodie, and a baseball cap.
I’m still wearing the suit I put on this morning because Astrid didn’t seem to mind the one I wore the other day.
“Berk!” Astrid’s voice carries over the soft tones of a jazz song playing in the background. “I’ll be right with you.”
“No rush,” I call out to her as I take stock of the guy who just inched closer to her.
She turns her attention back to him.
That affords me a clear view of her back.
Long blonde hair cascades around her shoulders in soft curls. My gaze trails down to a perfect heart shaped ass beneath dark wash jeans.
I already know that she’s wearing a Vinyl Crush T-shirt.
I’m not complaining.
It suits her and fits her in just the right way.
The guy next to her says something that sends her hand to his forearm. They laugh in unison.
He pats her hand giving me a straight shooter view of his left hand, and the thick silver band wrapped around his ring finger.
I wore a similar ring once. I slid it off fourteen months after my wife’s death. It was moments before I met up with a woman I’d connected with on an app.
I had every intention of putting the ring back on after the encounter, but I made a conscious decision not to. My body had moved on, and even though my heart wasn’t invested in what happened in the hotel room I’d chosen for that first one-night stand, I knew it was time to put the past to rest.
I rub my ring finger, feeling a sense of acceptance I’ve grown accustomed to.
“I sold Berk a copy of Lulu Jenkin’s debut album the other day,” Astrid says as she motions toward me. “I have a feeling he’s here to tell me he’s a new fan.”
“Indeed I am.” I smile at her, ignoring the guy next to her.
They both approach where I’m standing near the front of the store.
“Joseph was lucky enough to sit front row at one of her concerts.” Astrid sighs. “I’d give anything to do that one day.”
The man next to her raises a hand in the air. “I’m Joseph, by the way.”
“Berk,” I offer.
I’m in and out of stores in Manhattan on a daily basis. I’ve never set foot in one where I know the names of my fellow customers.
Something tells me that Astrid makes everyone feel comfortable enough to share not only their names but also details about their lives that to any other shop owner would seem trivial.
“I’ll finish up with Joseph, and then I’m all yours, Berk.”
I perk a brow. “I’ll be waiting.”
I doubt she heard the bite of need in my tone, but it’s there, brewing beneath the surface.
Astrid might be willing to give anything for a front row seat at a concert, but I’d give anything for her undivided attention for an hour or two.
I want her to be all mine, at least for tonight.