Page 10 of It's a Brewtiful Day
As it turned out, Alice had a meeting for her volunteers tonight, and I was invited. Not sure whatI was going to do there, since I wasn’t volunteering as I’d be putting in more hours at the bookstore and setting up local promotional events for our authors. Regardless, I was to show up at seven-thirty. Alice assured me it would all be fine, and if Fox and me hit it off, excellent, and if we didn’t, then at least I’d get Cassie off my back about it.
Again, I was really warming up to Alice. She was a matchmaker through and through, but at least she was sweet about it, and not as pushy as my sister who would probably start planning a wedding if there was a second date.
I stumbled into the Coffee Loft just shy of my previously agreed-upon time of nine-thirty and saw the lineup—outside the door. Inching my way along the sidewalk, and eventually into the shop, the place was packed, unusual for a Wednesday morning. Scanning the area, I noticed my coveted wingback chair in the corner had a sweater over one of the wings, and a plate with a pastry on the knee-height table in front of it. Plus, dagnabbit, my favourite cup was in use.
Ugh. So much for a great start to my day.
I was fifth in line, surfing on my phone, reviewing the latest Publisher’s Weekly bestseller list (since customers were anxious to get their hands on those) when someone gently tapped my shoulder. I jumped slightly and dropped my phone.
“Elliot.”
The waves in his hair leaned more toward acurl, and they hung over his forehead, just waiting for someone to brush them across. “Hi, Sage.”
Before I could bend down and pick my phone up off the floor, he was already doing so. Freeing a cloth from his pocket, he gave my phone a wipe and handed it over.
“Thank you.”
“Sorry I made you jump.”
“I was just distracted. Normally, I’m very much aware of what’s going on around me.” Just not today, it seemed, but the bestseller list was amazing. So many books to add to my already miles-long TBR list.
“You’re late. Hope everything’s okay?”
“You’ve seen the lineups, right?” I bit my tongue at my sudden burst of sass. My shoulders rolled forward as I put my phone into the pocket of my jacket. “Good thing it’s all worth the wait.” With that, a tinge of heat bloomed on my cheeks as I meant him, but it could’ve been interpreted as the coffee too.
He didn’t seem to catch my hidden meaning as he pointed toward the wingback chair. “I saved your spot for you, for when you showed up.”
“What?” That was for me?
“Come.” He looked like he was going to reach for my hand but thought the better of it. “This is mine.” Pulling it off the wing, he wrapped the grey sweater over his arm.
“Wow, you didn’t have to do this.” My heart swelled at the idea of him reserving a table for me.For me? That was such a wild thought.
His face lit up with a broad smile, pushing up the corners of his eyes. “You are, without a doubt, the most regular customer we have, so really, it’s our pleasure to make sure your drink, your pastry—and I took a stab at what you’d like—and your favourite spot was ready for you.”
“I don’t know what to say, except thank you.” That was the sweetest thing anyone had done for me.
He waved his hand to usher me into the chair, which I gladly sat in. There was a reason this spot was the best—the plush part of the seat was so much more comfortable than the wooden chairs and stools scattered throughout. Even better, it had a captain’s view of the rest of the place yet was tucked away to not be immediately noticeable. From this vantage point, I could easily watch Elliot move fluidly and not have it look like I was some sort of stalker.
“Elliot,” one of the baristas called out. I thought it was Nina, the owner.
“I’ve got to go, but I’ll be back.”
I nodded and watched him strut behind the counter. As he read the next coffee order to start making, he lifted his gaze briefly and stared at me from the corner of his eye. My heart fluttered in response. For as often as I had read that happening in books, it came as a total surprise when it happened in real life. I was pretty sure that the giddy part of infatuation was a myth as I really didn’t think my heart knew how to do that; it had never happened before.No guy previously had ever lit my fire; I guess that’s why my relationships crashed and burned before they could ever take flight.
With heating cheeks, I turned my attention to the table. The mug—my favourite—was filled with a tantalizing maple aroma and a weird foam art. Since the foam had reduced due to my tardiness, it was hard to tell what it had been, but I liked to think it was a flower or a heart.
Beside it, on the plate, was a chocolate donut; its centre hole was filled with a thick chocolate crème and decorated with white chocolate shavings. He’d made a great choice with his selection. Because it looked so decadent I’d never choose it, and if I were to indulge, I usually went with something slightly less rich.
However, it wasn’t the donut or the coffee that garnered my attention. Off to the left was a plastic bag. As I opened it, inside was a Mass Market paperback. I started laughing, perhaps a little too loudly since the people in line turned in my direction, and flashed the book cover to Elliot who was watching. The book was similar in nature to the one I had been reading yesterday, except this one was titledThe Duke and His Mistress. Ten points to the sweet Elliot.
I mouthed, “Thank you”, and proceeded to flip it over to the back cover to read what it was about, although I had a super strong suspicion based on the title. Giving it a read, I tucked it back into the bag,knowing it wasn’t going to ever be read by me, but it would be one I’d save. Cheating tropes were a huge turnoff for me, not that Elliot would know that or my personal reasons for hating that particular style of writing. I’d dealt with enough of it in my real life. Still, it was beyond adorable of Elliot to find a romance book for me.
From inside my bag, I pulled out a worn and weathered children’s novel.The Great Gilly Hopkinshad been donated to the bookstore, but when I flipped through the book, it was missing several pages. There was no way it was going to be read, and now was the perfect time to give it a new life.
Between sips of my coffee – and it was so tasty – and bites of my decadent donut, I began to craft a gift out of the book. Holding my breath for a moment, I tore off the front and back cover, apologizing to the book gods for the mighty destruction. Allowing the breath to sail out, I began folding in the top-right corner until it touched the spine, using the end of my blue-polished fingernail to crease a diagonal line, and then folded that newly created edge to the spine and pressed again. Since it left a tiny triangle of paper on the bottom, I bent it so it was flush with the bottom edge and tucked it under the folds. Page by page, sip after bite, I worked my way through the entire children’s book, producing a pristine book tree within forty minutes.
Normally, I’m much quicker, but since this was a thank you gift for Elliot, I put a little more effortinto creasing the folds and making it perfect. Indeed, it was, and a sweeping feeling of pride ebbed through me.