Chapter 10
10
“ W hen I need brain juice, Coffee Loft is the only way to go. It’s like my home away from home, and that red velvet couch is the most perfect coffee-drinking spot on the planet .” ~ Hairy Fairy
T alking with Cal anywhere except Coffee Loft had a profound effect on her freak-out meter.
It happened in the park the other day, and now here when she’d made the casual comment about the dog bowl. Lesson of the Day: keep all further communication with Cal at the shop unless she liked being caught off guard.
She tapped her pen on the notepad, willing the fluttering in her chest to go away. It didn’t help that his eyes did some kind of hypnotic thing when he looked at her. Like she couldn’t look away.
“Okay, so what three words would you use to describe yourself?” She chanced a look, hoping to not find him staring again.
His brows knitted together, but he wore a poorly suppressed smile. “You’re going to put that in the profile?”
“No, but it gives me a better sense of who you are. It will help warm me up when I start writing.”
“Warm you up, I like th?”
“Three words, Cal.” If he’d just answer the question without the commentary .
He squared his shoulders and looked into the fountain. After a minute, he ticked the first one off with a finger.
“Diligent.”
“Good.” She scribbled that down. “Two?”
“Funny, but not in a class-clown sort of way.”
“That was more than one word.”
“Some things beg for more of an explanation.”
Smiling, she huffed and looked up at the sky. He really was funny in an understated sort of way. “Fine. What’s the last one?”
“Introverted.”
She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “I don’t think so.”
He let out a short bark of a laugh. “So, now you’re editorializing?”
“Every time I see you on the patio, you’re with a group of people.” She laid her pen down and folded her hands over her notebook.
“That doesn’t mean I love socializing ’round the clock.”
“You could have fooled me.”
“I work alone pretty much every day. The times when you see me are during my lunch break, and most of the time I have a dog with me. The more chances I have to show them off in public, the more hope there is of them getting adopted.”
“But it looks like you’re enjoying yourself.”
“I do love talking about the dogs, and meeting like-minded people,” he said. Cal crossed his ankles and leaned back on his hands, looking straight ahead. “But the interactions wear me down after a while. My batteries get recharged when I’m alone.”
He stared at her for an uncomfortably long time, like he was waiting for the information to soak in.
“Does that revelation alter your opinion of me?” he asked finally.
“Nope. Why would it?” Gosh, his eyes are blue .
“It appears you’re thinking heavy thoughts,” he said.
Yeah, like how your eyes are as bright as the blueberry bubble tea at the shop . Amazing .
“You’re good at reading people, are you?”
Cal snorted. “No, not at all. I’m just good at feeling paranoid.”
She chuckled as she wrote some nonsense on the page, phrases and random words she was certain wouldn’t make a lick of sense when she reread it later. When she finished, she repositioned herself on the ledge.
“Next question. What do you like to do in your free time?”
He laughed off this question, too.
“Are you helping me write a dating profile or an impact statement for your application?”
She sighed. “Very funny.”
“I volunteer at the shelter.”
“I know that already. What else?”
“I read a lot. I’m a card-carrying library patron. I was a board member in the past, you know. And I fish.”
She wrote that down, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, until his running list of interests started coming too fast for her to keep up. She hooked her pen in the notebook’s spiral spine and listened.
“Play Solitaire on my phone when I need to clear my head.”
“Eat pizza.”
“Collect L.A. Dodger baseball cards.”
“Swim at the rec.”
“Pick weeds out of my herb garden. There are more weeds than herbs, but I keep trying to find a bal?”
The sun glinted across the top of his head, revealing golden tones in his dark brown hair. He kept it shorter on the sides than he did on top. A neatly trimmed beard outlined his strong jaw—a good look for him. He bore a strong resemblance to some actor, but his name was on the tip of her tongue. She bet?
“Ginger?”
She jumped, launching her pen into the air. It landed at her feet.
“Sorry?” She picked it up, hoping that he attributed her reddened complexion to the exertion of bending over rather than being caught daydreaming. A forty-ish Brad Pitt. That’s who he looked like. Focus on the interview, Ginger .
“I asked if you garden.” He wore that smug smile again like he knew the effect he had on her.
“I don’t. There’s no room on my balcony.”
“Container gardening is a thing, you know.” He waved away his suggestion. “Anyway, I also have an old car that I tinker with when I have a spare minute. Which is never.”
“Oh, yeah? My grandfather had a red Buick convertible that he kept in his barn. We used to ride in it when we’d visit. I loved riding in that thing with the top down.”
“Mine’s a 1952 Plymouth Cranbrook. I just had the interior redone, so that’s all finished. There’s quite a bit left to fix up on the exterior.”
“There’s something about old cars,” she said. “I don’t know the first thing about restoring one, but the memories…” She shook her head, smiling.
“Whenever I get it up and running, you’ll be my first passenger,” he said. “How’s that?”
“I’d love it.” She surprised herself with that answer, but honestly, she really wanted to ride in his car.
“It’s a date, then.”
She struggled to stop herself from grinning, so she dropped her gaze to the notes she’d dashed on the page. Funny how an innocent four-letter word like “date” could thrill her and make her breath hitch all in the same beat.
“ Three dates on the calendar now.” Her enthusiasm sounded forced even to her own ears.
“Is that a problem?” he asked with a hushed tone.
“Why should it be?” He didn’t appear to be as flustered by this prospect as she was. Surely, he joked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you started frantically clicking your pen when I brought it up.” He gently took the pen from her and set it down on the notebook. “This isn’t a date, by the way. It’s business. That should set your mind at ease.”
“Thanks for clearing that up.” Yes, her imagination worked in overdrive, as usual . She took an exaggerated deep breath. “Let’s get back to the interview.”
Cal nodded, folding his hands across his lap. “I’m ready.”
“How has Coffee Loft impacted your life?”
“Professionally or personally?”
It sounded like a trick question. “Aren’t they intertwined?”
“Not necessarily, but I’ll give you what I think you want. Besides keeping me properly caffeinated, I’m thankful that you’ve allowed me to bring my dogs there.”
“Go on.” Surely, her face was back to doing a fine impersonation of a tomato. Compliments always made her blush; she couldn’t help it.
“I can’t think of another place in the area that makes me feel like I’m not imposing,” he said in earnest. “You’re very gracious and patient, considering the times the dogs have caused a ruckus.”
“Like the time the rogue squirrel jumped onto one of the umbrellas from the awning and your dog went after it?” Luckily, only one other table had been occupied besides Cal’s. She laughed at the memory.
He put his hands up on both sides of his face. “I was mortified. Or how about the time when that little Yorkie got her head stuck in the railing and I had to dismantle the bars?”
“During the mid-morning rush, no less.” Ginger felt tears prick the corners of her eyes from laughing. “I almost banned you for life that day. ”
The smile dropped from his face. “Seriously?”
“I’m joking.”
He slumped. “ Phew .”
They shared a few seconds of silence before Cal cleared his throat.
“Mishaps aside, being able to bring the dogs to your place has made a difference. People who’ve stopped to talk with me have come into the shelter days later. I’ve never kept track of the dogs that have been adopted because of their appearance at Coffee Loft, but I have a feeling it’s quite a few.”
Now her vision clouded for a different reason. It warmed her heart to hear those words. And here she thought she was only serving coffee at the shop all along.
“Why did you start volunteering in the first place?”
“A friend got me started. She was the director at the shelter before the current one was hired. There was a shortage of volunteers, so I signed up to impress her,” he said with a chuckle.
“You opportunist.” She almost asked if they’d dated, but how was that relevant to the profile? A flutter in her chest at the thought of someone else competing for Cal’s attention only confirmed it. Not relevant at all .
“Seriously though, I’ve always loved dogs,” he continued. “It keeps me from working all day and into the night. I can be a little self-centered when it comes to work.”
“Same.” She stopped writing and raised her hand.
When she checked the time on her phone a short time later, she let out a yelp.
“We’ve been talking way too long.”
“Who says? ”
“You need to get back to work. I mean, I need to… let you get back to work.”
He chuckled as he collected his lunch remnants. “You’re the boss. Thanks for this, by the way.”
“It’s my pleasure.” She stood, smoothed her skirt, and tucked the notebook into her bag.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.” She paused, already feeling like she’d taken too much of his time. “And the testimonial. If you could get it back to me soonish.”
“I sure will.” He looked down at her with a little smile. “I hope you win.”
“We’ll see.” A deep sense of satisfaction for her work had nudged its way into her heart, thanks to Cal. She’d never fully realized that opening her patio to Cal’s endless parade of pooches could have an impact on dogs and people alike.
“There’s a monetary prize, isn’t there? It’s not just bragging rights?” he asked as he stood too.
“The top award is a ten-thousand-dollar grant. For business expansion, education, equipment. Four more people will also be chosen for smaller awards.”
He nodded. “You’ve got this.”
When they parted ways, she held her breath until he disappeared around the corner.
It’d been a surprising meeting, for sure. She’d expected to talk with Boisterous Cal. Flirty Cal. Instead, he’d answered her questions thoughtfully. He was funny, and charming, and so down-to-earth it seemed liked she’d known him forever. He’d left her wondering if she was wrong to peg him as a player. This revelation bothered her.
If she’d misread Cal for so long, how did that reflect on her?