I sigh and tap my credit card to the machine. “Shame. And to think, I felt special for a minute there.”
Smirking, Darcy grabs a pen. “Name, please?”
“Yeah,” Luke bobbles his head a little. “Name please.”
I stop for a moment, then grin. “I’ll wait right over here. I suspect I’m the only one buying the fancy drink, so when I see it being made, I’ll be sure to make myself known.”
Ignoring Luke, side-stepping his large body, I move away from the counter and swipe my phone open so I can pretend to be busy while they make my drink.
“So…”
Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Do not look up.
“Come here often?”
I look up and shake my head. “It’s lucky you’re pretty. I swear, if you were ugly, I’d have shot by now.”
“So you admit I’m sexy?” He flashes a grin and opens his hands in a come here type gesture. “Excellent starting off point. I think you’re pretty too. You wear heels like that all the time, or…?”
“Only when I’m awake. You wear that hat all the time?”
Luke reaches up and taps his brim. “Only when I’m awake. You married?”
“Nope.”
“Engaged?”
I lift my left hand and study it for a moment. “Nope.”
“Does your boyfriend play football?”
“Negative, Ghostrider. Can you go away now?”
“What’s your mother’s name?”
“Fancy coffee?” the barista calls out.
I spare Luke one last glance, absorb how sexy he actually is, then I grab my coffee and walk. “See ya, Small Town. Have a nice day.”
“I love you!” he shouts at my back. “Yo, Montana! I said I love you!”
I pass through the door with a shake of my head, and step onto the sidewalk with my phone in one hand, and my fancy coffee in the other.
It’s too damn bad the sexy guy is fifty cents short of a dollar. I’m new in town, I’m absolutely not looking for attachments, but hell, a romp with a sexy guy isn’t something I would say no to. But I feel like, if he’s short that fifty cents, then perhaps it’s morally wrong for me to go there. It would be taking advantage.
And that knowledge is a damn shame.
It takes only ten minutes to walk from Main Street over to Chapel Street, which is where my office for the next couple months is located. I’ve never been here before, but I’ve seen pictures. It’s easy enough for me to find, even on foot, and even in heels. I make it only a quarter of the way through my coffee before I walk through the front door of the offices and stop in the air-conditioned room.
Behind the counter, a woman in a floaty white top and a half a dozen necklaces pops her head up much the same way a meerkat does, stopping on my face when our eyes meet, and her lips quirk into a fun smile. “You must be Allyson. Hi.”
“Hi.” I fix my purse on my arm, and move my coffee to my left hand with just enough time to wipe the right on my pants and take the receptionist’s enthusiastic pump. “You can call me Ally, if you like. Most people do.”
“Oh sure. You’re just as pretty as they said you would be.”
“Oh… wow.” I release her hand and let mine drop by my side. “I had no clue that would be considered for a job like this, but okay.”
“Oh, don’t be silly.” The woman sits down again when the phones begin ringing. “You know, she told me all about you. I’ve been excited since the moment the documents were signed and it was official you were coming. And I know I wasn’t the only one. I’m sorry, I have to get this. My name is Calla, by the way.”
“Hi, Calla.”
“Just wait a second, and I’ll let her know you’re here.”
She picks up the phone and speaks in barely more than a murmur. “She’s here. Yeah… uh-huh… okay.”
She glances up and smiles. “Head on in.” Then she looks down and silences the trilling of the telephone. “Sonia Rivera’s office. How can I help you?”
“Uh…” I glance around the empty waiting room. Chairs line the wall, and a dark wood coffee table sits in the center, gossip magazines littering the surface. A water cooler stands in the corner, and strangely, a dog’s water bowl sits at the bottom.
Frowning, and knowing I’ll regret the resulting wrinkles someday, I try to smooth my features as I make my way toward a door that’s slightly ajar. I doubt she’s seeing a client right now, or else the door would be shut. Adding in that Calla told me to head on in, I tap the door with something barely more than a whisper of a touch, and when there’s no objection, I push it open and am met with eyes that know a whole lot.
Sonia is old. Really old, but somehow, she drinks from the fountain of youth, because despite her age, she doesn’t look frail or incompetent. Silvering hair, watchful eyes. Her face isn’t smooth, but it’s not droopy or hanging with excess skin either. She wears an elegant skirt suit of pastel pink, shiny black heels that complement the pink, and short, manicured nails that match.
Her office is sophisticated, neat, and chic. A dark wood desk sits against one wall, with a black chair pushed in so it takes up little room. A computer screen is mounted to the wall, and above that, framed certificates add a touch of professionalism and class. A few feet from the desk chair are two more chairs, but these are comfier, made for lounging, and across from those is a two-seater couch. It’s all set up in a way that encourages discussion. The chairs all face inward, a small coffee table separates them, and in the center of the table is a small display of daisies.
It’s as though the room demands a flower that implies more class… roses, lilies, perhaps even tulips. But the flower chosen sets people at ease. This is a nice space, it says. You can relax. You can let down your guard. We won’t drop you.
The wall opposite the couch is littered with hand-drawn pictures. Rainbows, horses, flowers, and families. Children have spent time in this room, and the fact they have, the fact children need Sonia’s help, makes my heart ache. But I guess it’s better that they have access to help, rather than need it but not have it.
“Allyson.” The woman allows me a full minute of study before she stands from her wing-backed chair, and sets a cup of tea on the desk against the wall. Checking her lipstick with a lightning fast move as she turns away from the switched-off computer, she turns to me and smiles in a way that sets me on edge.
I don’t much like hugging strangers, I don’t like public displays of affection. But I guess this woman doesn’t mind either, because she grabs my arms, pulls me in, and presses an air kiss to each cheek.
It’s all very formal, rigid and awkward, and the fact it feels that way is telling.
Fortunately, it’s over fast, then she steps back and catalogs me. “Look at you, Allyson. Just…” She studies me from my shoes to my hair. “Wow. You look so beautiful.”
“Thank you. I, uh…” I look down at my black pants and ivory shirt. “I wasn’t sure exactly what you wanted me to wear, so I went with understated elegance. I hope that’s right.”
She smiles and takes a step back. “Not understated at all. You look delightful. Come, sit down.” She sits in her wing-back and grabs her teacup, so then I’m left with no choice. Remain standing here like an idiot, or follow her example. “I would offer you a cup of tea, but…” She looks down at my iced coffee, and grins as I take a seat across from her. “Seems you’ve settled into town. When did you arrive?”