Leaving the park, I continue along the street, noticing the small shops that are now closed. Most of the buildings around here are several stories high with retail on the street level and housing or businesses above. The retail shops close at five when the workers go home but I glance in the windows just to check them out. I pass a coffee shop and notice it's open.
I go inside and a woman walks up to me and smiles. "Welcome."
"Thanks." I smile back then focus on the menu board behind her.
"Pumpkin lattes started today," she says, still smiling. "Or if you're more of a serious coffee guy, our French roast is fantastic. We roast our beans fresh every day."
This woman is very enthusiastic about coffee. But I like her enthusiasm. I like people who are passionate about what they do.
"Are you the owner?" I ask.
She laughs. "No. Not even close. I'm the manager but I'm only here one day a week. The rest of the week I'm at our other location. I love being downtown but the other place is closer to my house. I can run home if my kids need me. They're six and four. I have a sitter but she doesn't always show up. I need to find a new one."
I nod, not sure why she's telling me all this but I don't mind. It's nice to be around friendly people again.
"I'm Zoe." She puts her hand out.
I shake her hand. "Miles. I'm new to town. Moved here for a job."
"Welcome, Miles. So where are you from?"
"Oklahoma. Grew up in a small town nobody's ever heard of. It's about an hour from Oklahoma City."
"And you said you moved here for a job?"
"Yes. At a law firm about a block from here."
"And how do you like it?"
"I've only worked there a day but I think I'll like it."
"Sorry, I meant the city. How do you like Denver?"
"I love it, although I don't know anyone yet. I'm hoping to get out and meet some people." I glance up at the coffee board. "So you recommend the French roast?"
"Yes. Definitely. Can I get you some?"
"That'd be great. Thanks!"
She hurries behind the counter and grabs a mug. She's short and thin with curly blond hair and glasses with bright pink plastic frames. She moves quickly and keeps that smile going the whole time.
"Here you go!" She reaches across the counter and hands me the blue diner mug.
"Thanks. What do you I owe you?"
She waves away the money I just took from my wallet. "It's on the house. Welcome to Denver!"
"At least let me buy something else." I grab one of the individually wrapped brownies from the basket next to the cash register. "I'll take one of these."
"It's yours." She leans toward me and lowers her voice. "We close at nine and nobody buys them this late. I either toss whatever's left or give them to Gladys. You might as well take one."
Why is she giving me all this free stuff? I'm sure the owner wouldn't be too happy about this.
I stuff a couple dollar bills in the tip jar. "Sorry, but I have to pay something. At least the wait staff will benefit."
"It's just me tonight. The girl who works with me wasn't feeling well so I sent her home."
"Then it’s yours," I say, motioning to the jar.
"As the manager I'm not supposed to get tips but I'll make sure it goes to a good cause." She grabs a rag from the counter. "I need to clean tables. You're welcome to have a seat wherever you like. Are you doing work?" She points to my laptop bag.
"Just some orientation stuff for the new job."
Looking around for a place to sit, I see a row of stools lined up along the window. Just as I'm about to sit there, some teenage girls walk in and head straight for the stools. Wanting some privacy so I can work, I go to a small table in the back.
I like this place. The coffee is better than I've ever had, and I like the vibe here. It's hip and modern but also relaxed and comfortable with worn wood floors and mismatched chairs that give it character. Black and white photos of Denver back in the day line the walls and built-in bookshelves near the counter hold board games and old hardcover books.
I'm dreading having to do this HR stuff but I really need to get it done so I open my laptop and start reviewing the material, most of which was covered in orientation. I skip ahead to the quiz and answer the questions, going back now and then to the manual to check that my answers are correct. It's an open book quiz that makes me feel like I'm back in college.
I try not to think about college, law school specifically. It's not the classes I'm trying to forget but how it felt to have my heart broken. I met Corrine my second year there. We were friends first, then fell in love. A year later, we were talking about marriage and kids. I thought I'd found my forever girl. We were both headed for careers in law and seemed to want the same things. But then right before winter break, I stopped by my professor's office to ask a question and found him with a girl. MY girl. Corinne was making out with our professor, a married guy with three kids. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Corinne raced after me, wanting to talk, but what could she possibly say that would make me want her back? Turns out she didn't want me back. She was running after me to tell me it was over. That she loved someone else. The professor.
Spring semester I saw her at class but we didn't speak. I don't know if she kept up her relationship with the professor. I didn't ask and didn't care. It was over between us, and although I've been on some dates since then, they haven't gone anywhere. Greg keeps pressuring me to go out with girls but I'm just not feeling like I want to right now. Since the break-up I've spent most of my free time at the gym, so that's something positive that came out of it. I got in good shape.
"We'll be closing soon," I hear Zoe say to someone.
Checking my phone, I see it's almost nine. How did it get so late?
Looking up from my laptop, I see Zoe standing next to an old lady. The lady is hunched over and wearing purple polyester pants that have a stain on the leg. The collar of her pink shirt is stained too, and over it she's wearing two button-up sweaters. Her white hair is sticking up all over the place and she looks tired.
Another homeless person, but she's the first woman I've seen. All the other homeless people I've encountered have been men.
Zoe hands the old lady a paper sack. "A little treat."
The old lady grins from ear to ear. "Brownies?"
"And a few leftover cookies. Sorry I don't have more. It was a busy day."
"This is plenty," the old lady says. "Bless you, dear."
Zoe gives her a hug, even though the lady is covered in dirty clothes and probably smells. "I'll see you next week, okay?" She walks her to the door.
"Looking forward to it. Bye, sweetie." The old lady winks at her as she exits the coffee shop.
Zoe turns the open sign to closed just as the door swings open.
"We're clos—oh, hi, hon! Did you need something?"
"Bathroom. I'll be quick. I promise."
"No rush. Take your time."
As the girl walks past Zoe, I get a better look at her. As she makes her way through the coffee shop, I'm still watching her. I can't take my eyes off her. She's gorgeous. Long thick brown hair. Dark soulful eyes. Full beautiful lips. She's wearing two tank tops, one layered over the other, and over that is a long gray open sweater that goes to her knees. Ripped faded jeans cover her legs and on her feet are sneakers that are missing the laces.