Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
The next morning I channeled my inner Rosie the Riveter in my high waisted jeans, polka dot button-up, and hair in a bandana.
I flipped through the tin film canisters at The Bees Knees, wondering if Grant would stop in today. West Side Story , Casablanca , The Wizard of Oz , and Planet of the Apes . Zero Cary Grant. My lips frowned. It was a long shot. Finding film reels from the 1940s and 1950s was hard, especially if you wanted them in playable condition.
I closed the drawer of film reels and stood. Maybe I could call some auction houses and see if they had anything coming up. Just in case.
Luckily, Mom forgave me after last night. I think winning dance lessons and a four-day cruise to Mexico next summer significantly helped the cause.
Humming along with the Johnny Cash record crooning through the store, I danced my way to the front and the Rolodex of business cards I kept under the cash register. I loved talking to Grant last night. He was this weird juxtaposition of soft and jagged edges .
The door chimed mid spin, and I froze.
Please don’t be Grant.
I slowly finished the turn toward the door and was met with Jane’s smile and raised brows. “Well, aren’t you chipper today?” She lifted the two white coffee cups to indicate she brought breakfast. She followed me to the counter. “So, what happened?”
“What do you mean?” I flicked through the business cards, avoiding eye contact. If Jane found out I was acting this way due to a man, she would go nuts.
She tipped her chin and scrunched her brows. “The Kismet thing? Did you cancel and tell your mom like I told you to?” She set my cup on the counter and pushed it toward me.
I grabbed a few cards to make calls with later and set them by the cash register. “I didn’t cancel. I know I should’ve, but I didn’t.” I picked up my cup and blew on the top. “I told Mom in the parking lot before going in, though, and that the tickets and information were correct.” I shrugged. “Not great, but something…” I took a sip of my latte with soft top and caramel. It was still too hot.
“Well, at least that’s something?” She nodded toward my drink. “Your coffee was practically white.”
“Just how I like it.” I blew into the steam.
She shook her head. “So what did your mom say?”
“Oh, she was livid.” I grimaced. “And rightfully so.”
Jane pointed at me with her coffee cup. “The way you run headstrong into everyone’s dating life instead of focusing on your own has to be a sign of daddy issues or something.” She took a sip.
“Daddy issues, not believing I’m lovable, abandonment. Pick a diagnosis and stick with it.” I playfully stuck out my tongue.
“Maybe you have the trifecta.” She grinned, taking a sip.
“Lucky me.” I shrugged. “She said to focus on my own love life, and the next time I get asked on a date, I have to say yes and give it an ‘honest try.’” I emphasized the last two words.
Jane raised a brow. “So, all I have to do is get someone to ask and you have to say yes? ”
I grimaced. “I mean, technically, yes.” I set the cup on the counter so I wasn’t tempted to take another sip and burn my mouth.
Jane leaned against the front of the counter. “Hm, interesting. Did your mom go inside?”
“Yep. She said it was to waste the money I spent on tickets, and I had to come too.” I chuckled.
“Wait. You went in too? So that means…” She set down her drink and slapped the counter. “Was that why you were spinning?” She drum-rolled her hands on the counter. “Mr. Muscles! You saw him again, didn’t you? Oh. My. Gosh! Did he catch you? Did he throw you out? Was he as hot as you remember?” Jane rushed through the questions before running out of breath.
I grabbed my drink. I decided a burnt mouth was better than answering her questions. Hot, still too hot.
She squealed. “Oh my gosh! I’m right! You saw him!”
I raised my brow and blew on the cup.
“Drink later, talk now!” She reached across the counter and grabbed the drink from my hand, holding it hostage.
I sighed. “Fine. I told Mom I wasn’t allowed to come, and she told me it never stopped me before.”
“True.” She gave me a cheeky grin.
I nodded. “So, after Mom met up with some guy named Robert, which I’m still not allowed to ask questions about, but I kid you not, there was a lot of blushing and hand brushing.”
Jane’s eyes widened and gestured for me to keep going.
“Well, I saw Grant…that’s his name, Grant.”
“Ooh la la.” She raised her eyebrows and did a shoulder shimmy. “First name basis.” She gasped. “Wait… Grant, as in Cary Grant!” She set my cup down and ran around the counter, grabbing my hands. “I need more details! Wait, I thought he was a jerk last time? Was he a jerk?”
“He wasn’t last night.” I paused, enjoying the annoyance grow in Jane’s eyes as she waited .
“Ugh!” She threw her head back. “What does that mean? Come on…you’re killing me!” Wait until I told her it was the same guy that she tried to get me to ask out.
I giggled. “Do you want me to talk?”
She furrowed her brows. “Of course I do, but you are taking your sweet time at doing it.”
A ding at the front door sounded, and I turned to face the front counter.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Jane spun me back around to face her and didn’t let go of my shoulders. “They will want to browse, anyway. You talk.”
I rolled my eyes. “Mom made Grant babysit me last night.”
“What?” She tipped her head to the side.
“Well, he wanted to kick me out. I asked Mom if she was ready to leave and she said no, pretended her phone was dead, and said that she needed me to wait for her.” I rolled my eyes.
“Oh please, I’m sure you deserve all the meddling your mother wants to give you right now.” Jane tipped her chin. “But what does that have to do with Muscles, or I guess Grant, babysitting you?”
“He had to stay with me and make sure I wasn’t harassing any of the old guys. Do you know he actually believed I was there to find a date for me?” I shuddered.
Jane snorted. “Okay, so he is forced to hang out with you. Then what?” She put her hands to her mouth, trying to stop herself from interrupting again.
“I don’t know. He felt different last night. We sat in the foyer for about thirty minutes and just talked. He was patient and kind. Not grumpy at all…”
Jane shook her head. “Guys are capable of that, you know.” She pinched her lips and started clapping. “So, do you think you will see him again? Did you get his number?”
I raised my shoulders. “No number. I did tell him where I worked when he mentioned he was looking for film reels.”
She wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh, so did he still look like a Greek god?”
“He did not disappoint.” I gave a chef’s kiss to my fingers.
Jane squealed. “Oh my gosh, ahhh! What if he comes here today? Will you ask for his number then?” She attempted to keep her excitement bottled up, which caused her to take quick little steps in place.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t stop smiling all night.” He seemed sweet, but I don’t think I was ready to risk my heart again. Then again, if he asked me out, I wouldn’t be able to say no now.
A low clearing of a throat sound came from the front counter.
“Those are great questions.” A deep familiar voice said from behind me.
My eyes widened.
Oh my gosh, please no…
I looked at Jane’s opened mouth and wide eyes.
It was Grant—it had to be.
“Although I think I can answer the question of if I’m coming today,” I heard Grant chuckle.
I turned slowly and saw Grant’s smile, eyes full of mischief.
I whipped my head back around to Jane. “Why didn’t you tell me he was there?” I whisper-yelled.
She shrugged. “I didn’t see him. If you would have just hurried and told me the story, this wouldn’t have happened.” She peeked over my shoulder. “I see what you mean by the Greek god thing. Wait…” She peeked over my shoulder. “Is that the same guy from before? The one I said you should ask out.” She whispered, not quit enough.
“Jane!”
This was not happening.
I steeled my shoulders and took a deep breath before I turned around, looking anywhere but Grant’s face. “Oh hey, Grant.” My voice was too high. I cleared my throat and fanned my heated face. “I, um, I didn’t know you were here. ”
“Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation.” I glanced at his face. He didn’t look sorry with that grin.
“Oh I bet.” I wiped my clammy hands on my jeans. He looked different today, and I was happy to report he looked just as yummy in jeans, black jacket over his arm, and a fitted t-shirt. The button ups were nice, but this way was easier to check out his arms.
Yep, he totally worked out.
Jane banged something against the desk behind me.
Oh geez! I was totally staring at his arms! Maybe he hadn’t noticed? I glanced up to him, with his dark eyes and happy grin.
Yep. He definitely saw me checking out his arms.
Nailed it. I took a steadying breath. Focus!
“Um, I looked through the film reels this morning, and I don’t have any Cary Grant tins.” I glanced around the store and suddenly didn’t know where to put my hands.
Grant nodded.
“Do you see anything else you like though?”
Grant’s gaze fixed on me and he smiled. “Maybe.” His low voice sent shivers down my spine.
Jane snorted behind me.
“No, that’s not what I meant.” I felt my skin heat, let out a tight breath, and gestured around the store. “I mean in the store.”
He grinned. “Maybe I can look through the film reels you do have?”
“Right. Yep. I’ll show you. It’s over here.” I turned to walk around the counter and met Jane’s eyes. “Oh my gosh!” I mouthed with horror on my features. Then to Grant, “They are right over here.” I walked to the front of the store that held the media section. I opened the drawer for Grant to look through. “I can call around to some auctions if you want. Did you know Cary Grant’s real name is Archibald Leach?”
I was definitely rambling. I pursed my mouth to close.
He grinned. “I guess I should be grateful my parents didn’t choose Archibald over Grant. ”
I snorted. “True.”
His eyes scanned around the vintage store. “This place is pretty cool. I didn’t really look around last time.”
“Thanks. It’s not mine. Not yet anyway.” I shrugged. “I’ve worked here the last four years, and I love it.”
He stopped studying his surroundings and started studying me.
“Before I make a fool of myself, you’re not dating anyone, right?” Grant fidgeted with the arm sleeve of his jacket.
I glanced up and was happy to see him look nervous. He always seemed so collected. “Well…” I drew the word out, and Grant looked at the ceiling. “I thought about Mr. Hanen, but I’m not sure I can get over the feet thing.” I tapped a finger to my chin in thought.
Grant shook his head, chuckled, and took a step closer to me.
Please say I don’t have coffee breath.
“In that case, do you want to go to dinner tonight?”
This suddenly felt less playful, “Um, well…”
He looked at me, and I couldn’t look away. He didn’t push, just waited for my answer.
Of all the guys that could have asked me next. Why him?
Grant was gorgeous and seemed kind and caring. It would be all the worse when he decided he didn’t like me.
“Yes!” Jane called from the counter of the store.
I glared in her direction.
“Remember your mom…” she called sweetly.
Why had I told her that?
I took a tight breath. “Um, sure. Dinner sounds great.” I held the breath in my chest. “I’m off at six if tonight works.”
Holy crap! I guess this was happening. So much for the no dating rule. If I had to break it though…Grant seemed a worthy choice. It could be fun while it lasted.
“Six.” Grant smiled, and reached out and grabbed my hand in his, giving it a light squeeze. “I will be back at six then.” He winked as he threw on his jacket.
I tried to contain my smile, but my body didn’t get the memo. “Sounds great.”
He smiled, nodded at me, and walked past me to the exit.
Jane cheered in the background before the door finished swinging closed.
What would it feel like to have a man like Grant hold me?
“This might be a very bad idea.”
How long would it be until I had to choose between him or being me?