She shrugged. “My mom was a hairdresser. It’s not an easy life. Then again, you’re used to being on your feet all day anyway. And I have a feeling you’ll be just fine.”
My eyes burned. “You think?”
“As I said, you’re smart. You don’t trip over your tongue because a hot dude smiles at you like a lot of the baristas who have worked here. If he gets your blood pumping, maybe don’t shut him down right away. You can go on a date like normal people.”
“I’m starting a new job.”
“Right. A job—not three like you have been doing. Just one job, like the rest of us.”
“You have two jobs.”
She waved me away. “I don’t count. I like both my jobs.”
“I love my job here.”
“No. You are very competent at your job and I appreciate that. But this isn’t your passion. I see you ripping pages out of the magazines left in the book nook.”
I flushed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I don’t care. I’m aware that people in town just like to dump their magazines on me from their kids’ school magazine drives. But I see your brain spinning, and then you’re off stealing my tape dispenser to play collage with your idea book.”
I winced.
She pulled out a little Moleskine notebook from her back pocket. “I have one too.” She shoved it back in her pocket. “It’s in code, so don’t think you can steal my secrets.”
A laugh burst out of me. “I would never.”
“Take a chance on the hot artist. And if you still aren’t into him then shake him loose. I have a bat under the counter if you need it.” She straightened her shoulders. “Now give me your apron, and get out of here.”
“I still have another hour.”
“Go. If you want to go upstairs to get cleaned up, I’ll make sure Dani keeps him occupied.”
I nibbled on the inside of my cheek. Handily, my apartment was above the café. I’d managed to snag one of the few one-bedrooms when Rylee moved in with her husband.
“Go on. Be a girl for once. I won’t hold it against you.”
“Maybe dinner would be okay.” I untied my apron and handed it to her.
She crumpled it in her hand, and then pointed at me. “And not at the diner. Come on, Vanilla, live a little.”
“Never thought you’d be a matchmaker.”
“Don’t tell Vee, or I’ll break your kneecap.”
“There’s the Macy I know and love.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She pushed open the door then paused. “Go through the back. Knock his socks off.”
I played with the thin gold band on my thumb. If I was going to be stupid, I should at least go all in. “Think Dani can keep him busy for an hour?”
“Can do.”
I sneaked out the back door near the Dumpster and hurried down the alleyway to the side entrance to the apartments. The brisk winter air was like a slap. I was definitely making a mistake. Then again, dinner was a small price to pay to get back my notebook and my scarf.
I’d get a steak out of him, at least.
With a side of hot kisses…
No. Just a steak.
Probably.
Chapter Five
CALLUM
I folded my arms and faced off with the kid in front of me. We were sketch battling in comic style—not my best medium, but I’d been a teenage boy long enough to have secret dreams of drawing Batman like most guys.
Dani flipped her pad around toward me. My eyebrows shot up. The kid was good. “How old are you?” I asked.
“Almost ten.”
“Damn.”
“You said a swear.”
I cringed. “I did.” I pulled out my wallet and withdrew a dollar. “Swear jar?”
She snatched it. “Sounds good to me.”
I was pretty sure her pocket was the swear jar, but I shrugged and looked down at my own paper. My superhero had a scrappy vibe that probably had more to do with the kid who had been amusing me for the last two hours than any talent of mine.
I showed her my sketch.
Her eyes widened, and she snatched the pad out of my hand. “Cool!”
“Guess we’ll have to call it a draw then.”
“Oh, mine’s still better. But this is awesome. Imma call her Ruby.”
I shook my head. Oh, to have the self-esteem of an almost ten-year-old. “And why is her name Ruby?”
She shrugged and ripped off the page before handing me back the sketch pad. Then she handed over her drawing. “Whatcha gonna call mine?”
I glanced down at her surprisingly detailed dog with wings. “Looks like a Jersey to me. Lots of attitude.”
“My friend Jessie is from there. Definitely lots of attitude. Macy says she’s a bad influence.” Her voice dropped to a stage whisper. “I think she likes her though.”
“Your…Macy, is pretty interesting herself.”
“She’s cool. She married my dad, and now I have a little brother. So, she’s like my bonus mom. You should go to The Haunt. If you’re not scared anyway.”
“The place next door?”
“Yep. There’s a life-size Michael Myers in there. And Freddy and Jason. There’s even a Swamp Thing. Macy let me put Santa hats on them.”
Her thought process was staggering. Then again, when it came to ‘kids’, the ones in my purview at the community college were mostly advanced teens, and they were still as random as their thought processes.
“Anyway. Thanks for drawing with me. It was fun. Way funner—”
“More fun.”
“Right. That’s what I said.”
I rolled my bottom lip behind my teeth so I didn’t laugh. She was something else.
“Way better than Grumps. He can’t even handle a crayon.”
“Well, that’s high praise then.”
“Not really.”
I shook my head and collapsed into the couch. “You’re tough, kid.”
“Yeah, that’s what my dad says too. Anyway, I really like your stuff. You can come back tomorrow if you want.”
“I can, huh?” I crossed my arms over my sketch pad on my belly.
Dani waved. “Gotta go pick up my brother.”
“Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.” I’d suddenly developed more interest in sticking around town, so the possibility was there.
“Maybe I’ll beat you at drawing again.”
I laughed. “Wouldn’t doubt it.”
I tucked my supplies into my messenger bag. If I stuck around, I was going to have to stop into Colette’s place again. I was about two-thirds of the way through the hundred-page sketchbook just from sitting here for a day. And while some of the pieces were throwaway warmup sketches, a lot of them were actually good studies that just might be something more.
I was all about using models when I needed to, but for the most part, I preferred everyday subjects and Crescent Cove was full of characters. From the nosy busybody types, to the prolific level of children, and the added strangers in town for the festival, I’d been inundated with subject matter. People from all walks of life came in and out of the café. Some I drew from mental snapshots, while others were curious enough to ask to sit for me.