16. Harmless Flirtation
SIXTEEN
Harmless Flirtation
STEVE
Steve and Kiro left Café Mocha and headed toward the park in the square. Taking a short sip of his coffee, Steve let his mind wander to the gorgeous redhead he ogled in the coffee shop. He cursed himself for not at least getting her name and number. He could always ask Kiro but thought better of it for the time being.
They waved and headed in opposite directions to their respective apartments: Kiro’s above his family’s diner and Steve’s across the square above the bookstore. On his way home, Steve’s mind jumped to the conversation he had with the trio of old ladies inside the coffee shop. Maybe he’ll ask Kiro about them later.
They pointed in his direction when he pulled out a seat at the table for the woman ahead of them. “You’re such a polite young man, helping her to her seat,” the slender African American lady with her hair in a gray chignon commented with a flirty smile.
“Yes,” a lady with a short black pixie cut agreed with a giggle. “Oh. And look at all these tattoos. Remember when Stanley was in the service? He had a lot of tattoos.”
Steve turned and suppressed a laugh as an older lady pointed to his inked arms, which weren’t covered beyond the length of the shirt sleeves he’d rolled up to his elbows.
“Sexy.” The third lady, a round woman with a primarily gray shoulder-length bob, added while lifting her eyebrows at him. “Maybe I can buy him a coffee with my Golden Buckeye card.”
“Now stop your flirting, Lizzie,” the chignon lady scolded her. “He probably has at least three girlfriends already. He doesn’t need a fourth.”
The round woman looked up at him and batted her eyelashes. “Oh, I don’t know, Berneta. I think he could handle me.”
Steve flashed her his best smile.
“See? He likes me already.”
He didn’t actually flirt with them, did he? They were a far cry from the sweet, rule-following ladies from the church he and his family attended growing up back in Missouri. Those ladies were all quiet and unassuming, never speaking out of turn or doing anything outside of making sure everyone wore their coats and had a good meal. These three ladies acted like they were still actively out on the dating scene. Heck, if he were thirty or forty years older, he might take them up on their offer to buy him a coffee.
“Tell me something,” the pixie-cut lady spoke directly to Steve, slowly poking his bicep as she spoke. “Do you ever go to Jo’s for dinner?”
“Yes, ma’am. I do.” He wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but he could play along.
“Then will you promise me a dance the next time I see you there? My name’s Abigail.” Like her friend, Lizzie, she batted her eyelashes at him. “I’d be happy to free up space on my dance card for you.”
Lizzie rolled her eyes. “What would Stanley say?”
Abigail waved her off. “That he’d want me to enjoy life and dance like no one is watching.”
Berneta raised an eyebrow. “Best if they don’t. I’ve seen you dance.”
Steve laughed, thinking nothing of a little harmless flirtation. “It would be my honor to dance with you, Miss Abigail,” he said with a polite dip of his chin.
Abigail swooned. “Oh, thank you.”
Berneta clucked her tongue. “That’s enough flirting, ladies. Let’s get in line.”
“Bye!” Abigail wiggled her fingers at him.
He flashed another smile and waved back. “Bye, Miss Abigail.”
Steve tossed his keys onto his coffee table and dropped his backpack on the floor. He took another sip of coffee, closed his eyes, and tapped his forehead against the wall a couple of times.
Why did I say that?
Steve plopped onto his bed and punched the pillow a few times before drifting off.
Maybe I should ask that redhead for a dance.