Chapter 5
Bea
Bea plucked a napkin from the box on the table and wiped away a streak of condensation from the window.
Give me inspiration from somewhere. She peered through the clear streak to see if there might be a glimpse of sunshine struggling through the clouds.
Don’t let this mission be a complete waste of time.
There was no sunshine, but Bea saw something else on the street that made her sit up.
A tall, striking figure, his collar up against the wind and rain, passing by the window of the coffee shop.
This could be her hero, on his way to make up with the heroine.
To take her by the rain-sodden hand and lead her up the stony stairs of a dark tenement and into a warm bed, to make passionate love to her while rain battered the window and the fire roared in the hearth.
Bea swallowed hard. She should pack her laptop up and follow him.
He could be her muse. But what would she do if she caught up with him?
In her dreams she would follow some guy, accidentally bump into him, lock eyes and hold his gaze a moment too long: long enough for him to realise he’d fallen in love at first sight.
In reality, Bea had little confidence to do this.
Fortunately for Bea, making chase was unnecessary because, moments later, the tall, striking man pushed open the door of the coffee shop.
Bea inhaled sharply as his presence fill the room.
He was well over six foot with dark blond hair cut short at his neck, sharply dressed in a light-green tweed coat paired with jeans and brogues.
He strode to the counter with confidence.
It was like she was being given a second chance.
What should she do? A glance at her coffee cup reminded Bea that she’d only drunk a few sips and it wasn’t time for a refill.
But what if she went up to the counter and got him to notice her?
Almost orchestrated a meet cute. It would be super-difficult because it wasn’t in her nature to be out there like that, but there could be an amazing story in it for the readers.
And not just the novel itself but the story of how she met her muse.
She had to do it – for those waiting for her next book.
Bea slid out of her chair and headed to the counter, gripping her empty cup.
The man was ordering a latte. Bea noticed the bank card he was ready to swipe across the payment machine. She moved in, stood next to him – heart beating so loud he must be able to hear it – but didn’t acknowledge his presence.
‘Excuse me.’ Bea held her coffee out to the barista. ‘I don’t think this is an almond mocha, and I did ask for an almond mocha.’
‘Um…’ Bea’s commanding voice made the barista forget about her original customer, and the fact that the drink was made with almond milk. ‘Sorry about that,’ she said. ‘I’ll get you a new one right away.’
As the barista turned to the coffee machine, the man sighed. Bea sensed him tense and bristle. There was an intoxicating energy emanating from him. He also smelled divine: wafts of warm lime and cedarwood filled her senses.
‘Oh, and while I’m here,’ Bea continued to the barista, her jaw almost shaking, ‘is that chocolate cake dairy free also?’
The barista leaned back from the coffee machine and examined the labels on the cakes in the glass-fronted cabinet. ‘Yes, it is.’
‘I’ll have a slice of that as well.’ Bea beamed with gratitude and commended herself for holding her nerve. How some people behaved like this daily without thinking twice, baffled her.
‘Seriously?’ The man’s stare was boring into the side of her head.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ Bea turned, pretending to notice him for the first time, although she hadn’t accounted for his eyes being the greenest she had ever seen. She could stare into those forever. ‘Were you…?’
‘Being served? Aye, but I think you knew that.’
And the deep Scottish accent. It made Bea’s core vibrate. She could sail away on those tones, across a loch the colour of his eyes.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I should have noticed you. That’s so rude of me. I can only apologise. It’s just, when you can’t have dairy and they give you dairy, well… it’s frustrating.’ Hopefully now, if she played it sweet, he would come round.
But the man’s gorgeous greens were choppy with annoyance and Bea sensed a reprimand coming. She wasn’t wrong.
‘By all means, stand up for your dietary rights but do it while waiting your turn.’ The man simmered with annoyance. ‘Unless you’re allergic to that?’
She had riled him. Time to play confident without coming across as arrogant. Get him on side. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m not allergic to waiting. And I’m not allergic to apologising either. Why don’t you let me buy you a coffee as a way of saying sorry? It’s the least I can do.’
‘I’m all right, thanks.’ His voice was terse, which only made it sexier. ‘Maybe just pay attention in future.’
‘Yes, of course. I’m sorry again.’ Bea was a little deflated.
He was a tough cookie. She wanted away so she could blush and cringe in private.
‘Look, I’d better get back to my seat. I’ve left my laptop, but it was lovely to meet you.
’ Taking her coffee and cake, she lifted her mouth into what she hoped was a softening smile.
‘Right. Bye then.’ The man slid his coffee off the counter and gave Bea a strange sideways glance. It wasn’t what she’d call a softening, more an indicator that he was completely baffled by what had just hit him.