perfect jaw.
Isaiah glared at Perry. “The next time you lecture me about having SPD, I want you to think about the ball hawk. Got it?”
Perry looked away. “The ball hawk is the one with Shitty Personality Disorder. Point taken.”
Isaiah glared a moment longer before his lips quirked up. “I think the latest issue of Hellblazer came in this morning.” He pointed to the stack of boxes. Perry yelped in joy and ripped open the top one.
Finally, Isaiah noticed me standing by the counter. “Cassandra,” he said, surprised.
He remembered my name! I was so pleased, it was embarrassing.
Perry’s brow furrowed. “Cassandra? But I thought you said the actress Hedda invited to her party was Tabitha.”
“I’m definitely not Tabby,” I said.
His eyes opened wider, and he slapped his forehead. “I owe you a huge apology. I didn’t realize that you were Cassandra. Coffee Cassandra!” Perry leaned across the counter and extended his hand. Baffled, I shook it. “Isaiah told me that he had coffee with an actual woman last night, but I thought he was pulling my leg!”
I blushed to the roots of my hair. Isaiah looked murderous.
I cleared my throat. “I’m here to buy a comic book for my friend, but I don’t know what to get. I was hoping you could help me out.”
For the first time since I’d met him, Isaiah offered me a real smile. It melted me from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes. He really did have amazing eyes. It wasn’t just the color; it was the expression in them. They held self assurance and despair in equal measure, like the eyes of a heartbroken hero.
I blinked. Easy girl, I told myself. Don’t let those eyes mess with your common sense. Gorgeous or not, the Proceed with Caution sign is still around that man’s neck.
“Do you know what series your friend reads?” Isaiah asked.
Since Andrew had dragged me to enough comic stores, I should have known. Still, I wasn’t sure. “X-Men, maybe?”
“How about favorite authors and illustrators?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, worried that he might lose patience.
He scratched his head and thoughtfully pursed his lips. “Has your friend been collecting a long time?”
“Since he was a kid. I think he started with Superman.” It was embarrassing to realize how much of Andrew’s comic chatter went in one ear and out the other. Some friend I was.
“How about Batman?” Isaiah finally suggested. “Everyone likes Batman.”
“That’s true. Even I like Batman.” Isaiah smiled at me again. “But Andrew’s collection is pretty big. He probably has every Batman comic already.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” When Isaiah reached under the counter, my heart sank. Any comic important enough to be stashed behind glass was probably beyond my budget.
He slapped an old Detective’s Comic on the counter. On the cover was a picture of Batman swinging from a rope.
“How much is it?” I asked. I hated to be crass, but I did need groceries for the week.
“Thirty dollars.”
For a single comic book the size of a People magazine?! One that clearly had a price of ten cents listed on the cover? I thought he was kidding, but his expression was serious.
Perry, also surprised, glanced up from the box he was unpacking. “What do you mean thirty ? You told me that one is worth fifty…”
“I was wrong. It’s thirty dollars,” Isaiah said firmly.
Perry shrugged and went back to the box. “Whatever.”
Even with the generous discount, that comic book would take a chunk out of my grocery budget. However, when I thought of the pendant that Andrew had given me, I couldn’t refuse. Coke and Pop Tarts were worth the trade.
I rooted around in my purse for my wallet which, of course, had fallen to the very bottom. As I pawed through the contents trying to find it, I placed several items on the counter: my keys, a small notebook, a compact,
Isaiah glared at Perry. “The next time you lecture me about having SPD, I want you to think about the ball hawk. Got it?”
Perry looked away. “The ball hawk is the one with Shitty Personality Disorder. Point taken.”
Isaiah glared a moment longer before his lips quirked up. “I think the latest issue of Hellblazer came in this morning.” He pointed to the stack of boxes. Perry yelped in joy and ripped open the top one.
Finally, Isaiah noticed me standing by the counter. “Cassandra,” he said, surprised.
He remembered my name! I was so pleased, it was embarrassing.
Perry’s brow furrowed. “Cassandra? But I thought you said the actress Hedda invited to her party was Tabitha.”
“I’m definitely not Tabby,” I said.
His eyes opened wider, and he slapped his forehead. “I owe you a huge apology. I didn’t realize that you were Cassandra. Coffee Cassandra!” Perry leaned across the counter and extended his hand. Baffled, I shook it. “Isaiah told me that he had coffee with an actual woman last night, but I thought he was pulling my leg!”
I blushed to the roots of my hair. Isaiah looked murderous.
I cleared my throat. “I’m here to buy a comic book for my friend, but I don’t know what to get. I was hoping you could help me out.”
For the first time since I’d met him, Isaiah offered me a real smile. It melted me from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes. He really did have amazing eyes. It wasn’t just the color; it was the expression in them. They held self assurance and despair in equal measure, like the eyes of a heartbroken hero.
I blinked. Easy girl, I told myself. Don’t let those eyes mess with your common sense. Gorgeous or not, the Proceed with Caution sign is still around that man’s neck.
“Do you know what series your friend reads?” Isaiah asked.
Since Andrew had dragged me to enough comic stores, I should have known. Still, I wasn’t sure. “X-Men, maybe?”
“How about favorite authors and illustrators?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, worried that he might lose patience.
He scratched his head and thoughtfully pursed his lips. “Has your friend been collecting a long time?”
“Since he was a kid. I think he started with Superman.” It was embarrassing to realize how much of Andrew’s comic chatter went in one ear and out the other. Some friend I was.
“How about Batman?” Isaiah finally suggested. “Everyone likes Batman.”
“That’s true. Even I like Batman.” Isaiah smiled at me again. “But Andrew’s collection is pretty big. He probably has every Batman comic already.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” When Isaiah reached under the counter, my heart sank. Any comic important enough to be stashed behind glass was probably beyond my budget.
He slapped an old Detective’s Comic on the counter. On the cover was a picture of Batman swinging from a rope.
“How much is it?” I asked. I hated to be crass, but I did need groceries for the week.
“Thirty dollars.”
For a single comic book the size of a People magazine?! One that clearly had a price of ten cents listed on the cover? I thought he was kidding, but his expression was serious.
Perry, also surprised, glanced up from the box he was unpacking. “What do you mean thirty ? You told me that one is worth fifty…”
“I was wrong. It’s thirty dollars,” Isaiah said firmly.
Perry shrugged and went back to the box. “Whatever.”
Even with the generous discount, that comic book would take a chunk out of my grocery budget. However, when I thought of the pendant that Andrew had given me, I couldn’t refuse. Coke and Pop Tarts were worth the trade.
I rooted around in my purse for my wallet which, of course, had fallen to the very bottom. As I pawed through the contents trying to find it, I placed several items on the counter: my keys, a small notebook, a compact,
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