Chapter Two #2
I don’t pay a whole lot of attention as I load the contents of my basket onto the conveyor belt.
What catches my eye initially is the look of dissatisfaction on the cashier’s face.
Her mouth is a tight line as her face contorts into annoyance, frowning at the woman ahead of me in the line as she searches blindly in her tote bag.
She looks flustered. Her cheeks redden as she pushes her long hair behind her ears so I can see her face.
Holy shit.
For a couple of seconds, I just stare at her. Usually, I go for brunettes, but she’s got honey blonde hair that falls thick and straight. She’s going through the bag, searching for something.
‘It was in here somewhere…’ she says hopelessly, digging through the contents of the leather tote before pushing her hair off her face for a second time.
She’s got the most luminous green eyes I’ve ever seen.
She wears a plain black hoodie and yoga pants that cling to every curve of her thighs, with sneakers on her feet.
‘Want me to try your card again, ma’am?’ the cashier asks her, holding out her hand.
She swallows. Her voice sounds breathy. ‘I’d like that, yes please.’
The cashier inserts the card into the reader and the woman enters her code. Moments later, the cashier clicks her tongue. ‘Sorry, honey. Declined.’
She says it loud enough for the whole store to hear, and the woman’s cheeks flush even pinker. I have no idea who this woman is, but I feel bad for her. Her bags have already been packed.
‘I—’ she begins, lost for words, and she’s back into the tote bag, hauling stuff out of it. ‘I know I have the cash in here somewhere.’ She sneaks a look at me. ‘I am so sorry. I don’t mean to hold anybody up.’
I notice the cashier’s eye roll. Maybe that’s what does it for me; what has me reaching for my wallet, and my credit card. I can’t watch any more of this unfold.
‘Allow me, ma’am,’ I say, beginning to reach over.
Seeing the card in my hand, the woman lets out a gasp.
Turning to face me, I see her even clearer.
Those eyes, they’re… striking. But that doesn’t even cover it.
Her eyelashes are so long, coated in black mascara and lined with shadow.
Okay, so I’m not sure she’d pass the Mom test, but fuck that, she passes my test, and then some.
‘Oh no,’ she stutters, ‘I can’t ask you to do that.’
‘You didn’t ask,’ I say. ‘I’m offering.’
She shakes her head, looking like she’s desperately trying to compose herself. ‘Really,’ she says, in the sweetest way. ‘It’s a very kind offer, but I—’
She tails off. She’s facing me, this beautiful, sweet girl with the most amazing hair and eyes, and I’m overpowered by the idea that right now, I might be able to help her.
‘I insist,’ I say and turn to the cashier.
‘Thirty-four, eighty-five,’ the cashier says sharply as I tap the reader.
The woman breaks out into a grin, shaking her head furiously in shock. ‘I… I don’t know what to say,’ she says, her hands going to her mouth as the cashier starts ringing up my groceries. ‘That was the kindest thing. Thank you so much.’
‘Anytime,’ I say.
‘Seriously, I—’ she begins, all flustered again. ‘I’m so grateful.’
With that, she scoops up her tote bag, her paper bag of groceries and walks backward toward the store exit, giving me a slight wave as she goes. The only thing going through my mind is how desperate I am for the cashier to double the speed of her movements right now.
I stay cool as possible, but once I’ve paid, I’m out the door, my eyes darting left and right in the plaza parking lot. I can’t see her. Fuck, I curse silently to myself. I should have asked for her name. Her number. Anything.
I wipe one hand against the back of my head in disappointment, until I look up and she’s right there, smiling at me, clutching a handful of dollars between her fingers.
You can’t leave this lot without asking for her number, Walsh.
‘I had it!’ she says with a grin. ‘It was in my car all along. Please, let me pay you back.’
Her cherry red fingernails grasp the cash in front of me, but I hold up my own hand in response. ‘Really, no, that’s not necessary. I’m happy to pay. You keep the money.’
‘No, I couldn’t possibly!’ she raises her voice, sweet but assertive. ‘You don’t need to be a hero. Take it. I can’t not repay you.’
‘How about this,’ I suggest. ‘How about you keep it, and instead you buy me coffee sometime? I mean, uh… if you’re available.’
She seems to flush red again. ‘Oh, I, uhm…’ She smiles. ‘I… you’re sweet, thank you.’
She thinks I’m sweet. ‘Is that a yes?’ I prompt.
She’s shy, and for a moment I wonder if I overstepped the mark and misread her completely. ‘I don’t know about that. I’d rather you took my money.’ She takes a step closer, as do I.
‘One drink. Please. Or at least tell me your name.’
‘Serenity,’ she says.
‘I’m Jake,’ I say tentatively, and I wonder if she recognizes me, but doesn’t admit it out of good manners. Either way, I’m glad.
‘Nice to meet you, Jake. Please, take my money. I’m so sorry, but I have to go, I’m late for practice.’ She urges the cash toward me, but I ignore it. What I can’t ignore is how close she is, and the way her hand briefly brushes against mine.
‘Practice for what?’
She looks down at where our hands touched but doesn’t hesitate against the movement. ‘Oh, I mean, for class. It’s a, uh… an evening class.’
‘And the drink?’
‘Oh, that.’
‘Are you a teacher?’
‘Actually, I’m a… waitress.’
Her voice hitches when she says it. I don’t know why I’m a little surprised.
I thought she was gonna say dance instructor or yoga teacher.
No slight on waitresses, but I wonder how she’s able to have such an athletic frame and time to maintain makeup if she’s busy bussing tables every night.
‘So maybe I could swing by where you work? Buy you a coffee on your break?’
‘Maybe. But I don’t wanna be indebted to you.’
‘So… is it like a restaurant?’
‘A diner, actually.’ She looks embarrassed, smoothing down that glossy, shampoo-ad hair. She looks up at me through her dark lashes. ‘It’s over on seventh and Lexington.’
‘So, can I take your number?’
She bites her lip, a smile edging on her mouth before she shakes her head. ‘I really am gonna be late. Maybe swing by the diner sometime?’ She raises her brow.
‘When’s your next shift?’
‘I, uh… Friday. In the morning.’ I notice her glance around the parking lot as she shares the information. I must be keeping her, and I start to feel guilty.
I give her a smile. ‘I’ll be there.’
In one swift move, she tosses the dollar bills into my paper bag and before I know it, she’s backing away from me again.
‘And you’re buying,’ she says, raising her voice.
I shake my head in disbelief, impressed by her quick moves.
‘Thanks again for saving my ass!’ she calls out.
I roll my eyes in jest. Can I still claim to be a hero if she paid me back already? ‘You’re welcome, Serenity.’
I’m still grinning when I walk through the door to three expectant faces.
‘What’s for dinner?’ River blurts out, giving me a once over and noting the sole paper bag in my arms. It’s dark outside.
‘Uh, thought we could get takeout?’ I mutter.
‘Takeout?’ Mom splutters. ‘I knew it, you just bought chips!’
‘And some guac. And salsa.’ And then I got distracted by a staggeringly hot woman.
‘Snack food does not a meal make,’ my father chips in, wagging his finger in my mom’s trademark style.
‘You drove all that way, and you couldn’t even buy dinner food?’ River complains. ‘How is it the Mutineers wanna pay you all this cash and you can’t even run basic errands?’
I open the refrigerator and place the quart of milk I bought inside the door. ‘I’m better at running plays.’
She shakes her head at me. ‘I’m hungry. Pass the chips. Or should I say, the main course.’
My father’s bringing up an app on his phone with a sigh. ‘Come on, what y’all hungry for?’
Mom may look pissed at me right now, but I’m not hungry.
All I can think about is the chance meeting at the store.
I leave Dad to do the food order while I search on my online maps for a diner that’s on seventh and Lexington.
It looks to be called The Bounty, and I’ll be making damn sure I head that way Friday morning.
Because there is no way in hell that I’m not getting Serenity’s number.