Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Astrid
I lock the door to the store as soon as Joseph exits. Then I flip the sign that hangs on it from the ‘we’re open’ side to ‘sorry, we’re closed.’ It’s a mundane part of my nightly ritual, but one I remember with fondness when I used to watch my mom do it.
After she bought Vinyl Crush, I spent most of my winter break and half of my summer holidays in New York City with her. My dad had primary custody of me, but he always made sure that I’d get to spend Mother’s Day and my mom’s birthday by her side.
Whenever I was with her, I’d feel giddy when I’d see her close up the store. It meant I had her all to myself for the night. We spent a lot of that time talking about music.
School was my focus back home in Ohio, but when I was in Manhattan with my mom, I was swept into another world where I was allowed to eat ice cream for dinner and chocolate for breakfast. The sweet treats were welcomed, but the very best moments were when my mom would sneak me backstage at a club one of her old friends owned so that I could listen to live music.
My mom never sang at those shows, but she would always dance with me out of sight of everyone else.
I take a deep breath before I turn back around to face Berk.
My heart started racing when I saw him walk into the store. I’m not sure if he planned on arriving so close to closing time, but I don’t mind one bit.
“Do you have plans for tonight, Astrid?”
The question catches me off guard. My big plans were to go up to my apartment to heat up a frozen dinner. I was going to pair that with some sparkling water and a few episodes of a show Eloise has been raving about.
“I don’t,” I say. “Do you?”
A smile slides across his lips. “I don’t. I was hoping we could have a drink together.”
I don’t drink.
Well, I do… or, I have in the past.
I went through the stage of indulging in way too many tequila shots on too many Saturday nights when I was in college.
Since I’ve moved to Manhattan, I’ve treated myself to a glass of lemonade with a shot of gin on special occasions.
The last time was months ago when Eloise and I went out for a drink to celebrate her new relationship.
That ended the morning after our celebration before the buzz had worn off from all the martinis she had.
She was dumped via a text message, so I spent that day helping her with her hangover and her broken heart.
“A drink?” I ask.
He nods. “I’d love to talk about those albums you sold me, and I could use a beer. It’s been a beast of a day.”
I’ve never been great at reading between the lines, especially when they’re coming from a man, but this sounds more like a ‘let’s hang out and talk music drink’ than an actual date.
I glance down at my jeans and T-shirt. “I should change.”
His gaze trails over me. “There are a few bars around here we can duck into. I promise none of them have a dress code.”
I nod. “I’m in. Let me grab my jacket and set the alarm. Then, I’m ready to go.”
Of course, I was carded before the server would take my order.
Berk smiled as he watched me yank my ID from my wallet. I tucked it into the pocket of my leather jacket before we left Vinyl Crush.
“Does that happen to you often?” Berk asks as the server takes her leave.
I tilt my head to the left. “Being questioned about my age, you mean?”
He nods.
I hold in a laugh. “I’ve never been in a bar in Manhattan when it hasn’t happened.”
“So the answer is a resounding yes,” he states.
I tug on the front of my leather jacket. I still have it wrapped around me because the chill of the air outside was biting. I was shivering by the time we got here. It was only a two block walk from Vinyl Crush, but the wind wasn’t cooperating. It blew my hair all around my face.
I must look like a mess because Berk hasn’t taken his eyes off of me since we sat at a table near the front of the bar.
There are a few other people here. I don’t recognize any of them. That’s a little surprising considering the fact that I meet a lot of people every day, not only because of my work but also when I’m busking.
I take pride in the fact that I can almost always remember a person’s name after I’ve met them. I use an old trick my dad taught me when I was a kid.
He told me to listen intently whenever I meet someone new and to focus on their face because we all have something unique to only us.
It may be a speck of color in a left eye or a slightly crooked nose, but I’ve used that tip forever, and it’s never let me down.
When it comes to the man I’m sitting next to, everything about him is memorable right down to the way he’s looking at me.
I shift my gaze to the server to see her talking to the bartender. “You were pretty precise about the type of beer you like to drink.”
Berk laughs. “I’m picky that way.”
“I’m not,” I counter.
“A London Lemonade,” he repeats my drink order. “I tried one of those when I was sixteen. If memory serves me right, I spit it out after one sip.”
I lower my chin to hide the broad smile on my face. “You didn’t.”
“I did.” The rich tone of his deep voice lures my gaze back up.
I study his face. Each time I see him, I notice something new about it. Tonight, it’s the shape of his eyes and the thick lashes that border them.
“What’s on your mind, Astrid?” he asks in barely more than a whisper.
I’m not about to confess that I’m wondering what it would be like to kiss him, so I shift back to my safe place. It’s the one subject I can discuss with enthusiasm with anyone.
“Lulu Jenkins,” I say. “You loved her music, didn’t you?”
He rests his forearm on the table to lean closer to me. “Each lyric and every single note.”