my hair on fire if I gave him the opportunity.”
“Nonsense,” she said, reaching over to take the toothbrush from Burt as she moved behind the cash register to ring up the purchase. Burt looked confused.
“You mark my words,” Ernie said, punching buttons on her register. “That boy will surprise you.”
ERNIE WAS RIGHT about one thing. Collin certainly did surprise me.
Even though I suspected he was more likely to pat me down for weapons than admire the contents of my sweater, I still wanted to look nice for our coffee chat. I showered hastily after work, tugging on my favorite pink cashmere cardigan over a matching pink silk camisole and pairing it with a well-fitting pair of jeans. I felt a flutter of something as I dropped some kibble into Blue Cat’s dish and headed toward the door.
Blue Cat stared after me irritably, clearly expecting seared ahi and a scratch behind the ears.
“Sorry, buddy.” I grabbed my keys off the rack by the door. “I’ve got pork roast in the slow cooker, but you’re on a diet. Maybe one tiny piece later, if you’re really, really good.”
He flopped down on his side and gave me a look intended to convey that he was capable of chewing my eyelids off while I slept.
I had to hustle to make it to coffee with Collin. I had deliberately chosen the Starbucks just a few blocks from my house so I could walk there, ensuring I arrived rosy-cheeked and softly windblown. The plan might’ve worked if it hadn’t been raining sideways. As it was, I arrived soggy and frizzed and a good five minutes late.
I looked around for Collin, pushing my way through the door as I spotted him at a corner table with a large white mug and a somber expression. He was reading National Geographic .
He glanced up as I approached, disgruntled as always. I wasn’t sure if it was my tardiness or the general sight of me, but I was getting rather used to the expression.
Collin stood up and gestured toward an empty chair. “Please, have a seat.”
I nodded toward the counter. “I’m going to grab some coffee first. You want anything?”
“No, thank you. I’m quite fine. I would have ordered for you, but I wasn’t certain what you fancied.”
“I fancy a skinny vanilla latte with extra foam, a dash of cinnamon, and one packet of Splenda,” I told him. “For future reference.”
“Certainly.”
By the time I returned to the table, Collin was pulling his teabag out of the mug. He set it gently in his teaspoon, coiling the string around it a few times before pulling it tightly to squeeze all the liquid out. He set the tidy bundle on his saucer, reached for his biscotti, and dipped it in his mug. He looked up at me.
I took a swallow of coffee and tried to think of a good icebreaker.
“So you’re a spy,” he said.
I choked on my coffee.
When women in movies do this, they somehow manage to daintily sputter a light, ladylike mist while everyone has a good chuckle. That wasn’t the case for me. Collin was still wiping espresso off his glasses when the man from our neighboring table stood, apparently considering the Heimlich.
I waved him away, and finished coughing.
Then I stared at Collin. “What the hell? A spy ? Are you nuts?” I blotted my cashmere with a napkin and waited for a good explanation.
Collin looked at me. “I’m not the one who just treated everyone to a Starbucks shower.”
“And why might I have done that, Collin? It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the fact that you’re hurling bizarre accusations at me out of nowhere.”
Collin picked up his mug. “I’m simply looking at the facts. Fact number one: you showed up at the Department of Solid Waste rather abruptly, with no recent job experience in that field.”
“So?”
“Fact number two: immediately thereafter, I began receiving an unprecedented level of scrutiny from the Department of Environmental Quality.”
I picked up what remained of my coffee and took a sip, refraining from rolling my
“Nonsense,” she said, reaching over to take the toothbrush from Burt as she moved behind the cash register to ring up the purchase. Burt looked confused.
“You mark my words,” Ernie said, punching buttons on her register. “That boy will surprise you.”
ERNIE WAS RIGHT about one thing. Collin certainly did surprise me.
Even though I suspected he was more likely to pat me down for weapons than admire the contents of my sweater, I still wanted to look nice for our coffee chat. I showered hastily after work, tugging on my favorite pink cashmere cardigan over a matching pink silk camisole and pairing it with a well-fitting pair of jeans. I felt a flutter of something as I dropped some kibble into Blue Cat’s dish and headed toward the door.
Blue Cat stared after me irritably, clearly expecting seared ahi and a scratch behind the ears.
“Sorry, buddy.” I grabbed my keys off the rack by the door. “I’ve got pork roast in the slow cooker, but you’re on a diet. Maybe one tiny piece later, if you’re really, really good.”
He flopped down on his side and gave me a look intended to convey that he was capable of chewing my eyelids off while I slept.
I had to hustle to make it to coffee with Collin. I had deliberately chosen the Starbucks just a few blocks from my house so I could walk there, ensuring I arrived rosy-cheeked and softly windblown. The plan might’ve worked if it hadn’t been raining sideways. As it was, I arrived soggy and frizzed and a good five minutes late.
I looked around for Collin, pushing my way through the door as I spotted him at a corner table with a large white mug and a somber expression. He was reading National Geographic .
He glanced up as I approached, disgruntled as always. I wasn’t sure if it was my tardiness or the general sight of me, but I was getting rather used to the expression.
Collin stood up and gestured toward an empty chair. “Please, have a seat.”
I nodded toward the counter. “I’m going to grab some coffee first. You want anything?”
“No, thank you. I’m quite fine. I would have ordered for you, but I wasn’t certain what you fancied.”
“I fancy a skinny vanilla latte with extra foam, a dash of cinnamon, and one packet of Splenda,” I told him. “For future reference.”
“Certainly.”
By the time I returned to the table, Collin was pulling his teabag out of the mug. He set it gently in his teaspoon, coiling the string around it a few times before pulling it tightly to squeeze all the liquid out. He set the tidy bundle on his saucer, reached for his biscotti, and dipped it in his mug. He looked up at me.
I took a swallow of coffee and tried to think of a good icebreaker.
“So you’re a spy,” he said.
I choked on my coffee.
When women in movies do this, they somehow manage to daintily sputter a light, ladylike mist while everyone has a good chuckle. That wasn’t the case for me. Collin was still wiping espresso off his glasses when the man from our neighboring table stood, apparently considering the Heimlich.
I waved him away, and finished coughing.
Then I stared at Collin. “What the hell? A spy ? Are you nuts?” I blotted my cashmere with a napkin and waited for a good explanation.
Collin looked at me. “I’m not the one who just treated everyone to a Starbucks shower.”
“And why might I have done that, Collin? It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the fact that you’re hurling bizarre accusations at me out of nowhere.”
Collin picked up his mug. “I’m simply looking at the facts. Fact number one: you showed up at the Department of Solid Waste rather abruptly, with no recent job experience in that field.”
“So?”
“Fact number two: immediately thereafter, I began receiving an unprecedented level of scrutiny from the Department of Environmental Quality.”
I picked up what remained of my coffee and took a sip, refraining from rolling my
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