Free Until I Saw Your Smile by J.J. Murray Page B

asked.
    â€œThey’re not shops,” Angela said, “they’re vultures.”
    â€œLike lawyers?” Matthew smiled.
    â€œLike most lawyers,” Angela said.
    Matthew picked up another peach pastry. “Am I in the vulture category?”
    â€œI’ll let you know.” She looked from the door to the counter. “I should be getting ready for the church rush. They gotta have their caffeine before the sermon, right?”
    Matthew followed her out of the booth and took his cup to the counter. “I’ll join you this time, then.”
    Angela nodded. “Okay.”
    â€œAre you really worried about La Estrella?” Matthew asked.
    â€œYes,” Angela said. “I have to be.”
    â€œAngela, I’ve lived in Billyburg all my life,” Matthew said, “and I’ve never seen a chain store of any kind really make it. The closest surviving Starbucks is in North Greenpoint, and you have to walk more than a mile to Broadway to get to the nearest Burger King. You’re in the middle of a city where chains move in and die swift deaths. I think you’ll be fine. I hear La Estrella charges too much for everything anyway.”
    Angela rearranged several pastries on a tray under the glass. “That’s what I’m counting on. The only thing they do differently is put a little napkin on the cup.” She smiled. “I tried to do that here once with the napkins I use. I never could get the hang of it. The napkin kept falling off the cup.” She leaned forward on the counter. “I don’t like wasting napkins.”
    â€œAre you a Williamsburg native?” Matthew asked.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI thought so,” Matthew said. “Where’d you go to school?”
    â€œVan Arsdale,” she groaned. “What about you?”
    â€œMost Holy Trinity.”
    Angela sighed. “You look like a Catholic school boy.”
    Should I take that as a compliment? “Most Moldy had its moments,” Matthew said.
    Angela took a towel and wiped the already shiny counter. “But you’re a lawyer and you’re still here in Williamsburg? Why aren’t you over in Manhattan where the money is?”
    Been there, done that, hated it . “I love this place.” He took a sip. “I love your place, too. It’s always open when I need it to be.”
    â€œHow long were you waiting outside?” Angela asked.
    â€œOh, not long,” Matthew said. “Maybe ten minutes.”
    Angela smiled. “I’ll try to open earlier on Sundays.”
    â€œI can wait until six.”
    He returned to the booth, ate the last peach pastry in two bites, and carried his plate of three strawberry pastries to the counter. “These are fantastic, Angela. And the coffee is delicious, as usual.”
    â€œYou’ve only been here twice,” she said.
    â€œAnd everything was twice as good,” Matthew said. “Thanks for the conversation, too.”
    Angela untied and tied her apron. “Don’t your ‘not exactly dates’ talk to you?”
    â€œNot really,” Matthew said. Not out loud, anyway. Not like this. This conversation is peaceful, too.
    The door swung open, and a dozen chattering women in long coats, dresses, and hats came in. Angela is about to be very busy serving church ladies.
    â€œWhat do I owe you?” Matthew asked.
    Angela’s eyes darted to the booth and back.
    â€œI’m taking the strawberry pastries to go,” Matthew said.
    â€œOh.” She sighed. “You’re a very busy man with all that time on your hands.”
    He pulled a ten from his pocket. “Will this cover it?”
    â€œI’ll get your change,” she said.
    â€œKeep it,” he whispered.
    Angela nodded. “Thank you.”
    â€œSee you.”
    â€œDon’t be a stranger, okay?” Angela asked.
    Matt nodded as he collected his jacket. “I won’t. Good-bye,