minutes to go.
"Hey, handsome. What can I get you?" Just like at the office, I like to talk and joke with the customers. It makes the day go faster and, when you're an unpaid laborer, you'll do anything to make that time go as fast as humanly possible.
"Large Caramel Latte with double shot espresso, no toppings."
And I wasn't lying.
He was handsome with his jet black hair and light blue eyes. He was dressed casually but you could tell his jeans cost more than my car payment and forget about the price of the black v-neck sweater which appeared to be cashmere.
"You got it. Name?"
"Niko," he said. His pronunciation was a little bit different, a slight foreign accent that I only caught when he said his name.
And I think I speak for a lot of American girls when I say, accents are good.
Very good.
"Cool name. That'll be $6.75," I said with a smile.
"I haven't see you here before. Did you just get hired?"
"No such luck, I'm afraid. Just doing my cousin a favor."
"Who's your cousin?"
"Greg."
"Wow. Didn't know Greg had a cousin. Especially a cousin like you." Okay, Niko with the killer looks and great clothes was handsome. But when he smiled, you could forget your own name.
And that killer smile came with just the smallest dimple in his right cheek.
I had to blink a couple of times just to get back in the game.
"You know my name," he said. "What's yours?"
"Marianne," I replied and held my hand out to shake his. But he took my hand and turned it before pressing his lips to the back of it, all the while staring into my eyes.
Wow.
Just, wow.
Lucky for me, Greg walked in. Right on time, for once.
"Well, I'm off," I said trying to make my voice firm instead of the breathy mewl that wanted to come out. "It was nice to meet you, Niko."
"What are you doing later tonight, Marianne?"
"Tonight?" I think my voice went up an octave.
"I would like it very much if you joined me for dinner."
"Ah, well. Uhm, you see…"
"If not tonight, then perhaps another night."
"I'm kind of seeing someone," I tried to explain but my voice sounded unsure even to me.
Niko looked at me and blinked slowly. Even his eyelashes were hot, framing his exquisite eyes.
"Perhaps another time then," he murmured standing far too close to me as I made my way around the counter and took off the apron.
I just nodded. And high-tailed it into the back of the shop as fast as my new tennis shoes could carry me.
Wow.
Just, wow.
Chapter Eleven
On Saturdays, the first thing I usually do is go visit my mom at the Nursing Home. The earlier in the day I could get to her, the better chance I had of her remembering me.
Remembering that I was her daughter.
We lost my dad to a massive coronary when I was fourteen. It hit me hard but something within my mom died right along with him.
My parents had married in their early twenties and had been told, after extensive tests, that they wouldn't be able to have kids. So you can imagine their surprise when my mom became pregnant with me when she was forty-two years old.
My folks were closer than close, still in very much in love after all those years. My mom thought the sun rose and set on her man and when she lost him suddenly she, too, became lost.
In a way, I guess you could say that I lost both my parents when I was fourteen.
I had the grades and the smarts, along with the money, to be able to go to University. So I moved to Grantham from Cortez, which is only a couple of hours south in our little corner of Colorado.
I tried to get down to Cortez to visit my mom every couple of weeks and even then, I could see that things with her was just a little off. She was functioning but I noticed that late in the day she wasn't tracking very well. Calling me by her dead sister's name or picking up the framed photos asking who the people were in the pictures.
But, in the grips of my self centered youth, I just chalked it up to dad's
"Hey, handsome. What can I get you?" Just like at the office, I like to talk and joke with the customers. It makes the day go faster and, when you're an unpaid laborer, you'll do anything to make that time go as fast as humanly possible.
"Large Caramel Latte with double shot espresso, no toppings."
And I wasn't lying.
He was handsome with his jet black hair and light blue eyes. He was dressed casually but you could tell his jeans cost more than my car payment and forget about the price of the black v-neck sweater which appeared to be cashmere.
"You got it. Name?"
"Niko," he said. His pronunciation was a little bit different, a slight foreign accent that I only caught when he said his name.
And I think I speak for a lot of American girls when I say, accents are good.
Very good.
"Cool name. That'll be $6.75," I said with a smile.
"I haven't see you here before. Did you just get hired?"
"No such luck, I'm afraid. Just doing my cousin a favor."
"Who's your cousin?"
"Greg."
"Wow. Didn't know Greg had a cousin. Especially a cousin like you." Okay, Niko with the killer looks and great clothes was handsome. But when he smiled, you could forget your own name.
And that killer smile came with just the smallest dimple in his right cheek.
I had to blink a couple of times just to get back in the game.
"You know my name," he said. "What's yours?"
"Marianne," I replied and held my hand out to shake his. But he took my hand and turned it before pressing his lips to the back of it, all the while staring into my eyes.
Wow.
Just, wow.
Lucky for me, Greg walked in. Right on time, for once.
"Well, I'm off," I said trying to make my voice firm instead of the breathy mewl that wanted to come out. "It was nice to meet you, Niko."
"What are you doing later tonight, Marianne?"
"Tonight?" I think my voice went up an octave.
"I would like it very much if you joined me for dinner."
"Ah, well. Uhm, you see…"
"If not tonight, then perhaps another night."
"I'm kind of seeing someone," I tried to explain but my voice sounded unsure even to me.
Niko looked at me and blinked slowly. Even his eyelashes were hot, framing his exquisite eyes.
"Perhaps another time then," he murmured standing far too close to me as I made my way around the counter and took off the apron.
I just nodded. And high-tailed it into the back of the shop as fast as my new tennis shoes could carry me.
Wow.
Just, wow.
Chapter Eleven
On Saturdays, the first thing I usually do is go visit my mom at the Nursing Home. The earlier in the day I could get to her, the better chance I had of her remembering me.
Remembering that I was her daughter.
We lost my dad to a massive coronary when I was fourteen. It hit me hard but something within my mom died right along with him.
My parents had married in their early twenties and had been told, after extensive tests, that they wouldn't be able to have kids. So you can imagine their surprise when my mom became pregnant with me when she was forty-two years old.
My folks were closer than close, still in very much in love after all those years. My mom thought the sun rose and set on her man and when she lost him suddenly she, too, became lost.
In a way, I guess you could say that I lost both my parents when I was fourteen.
I had the grades and the smarts, along with the money, to be able to go to University. So I moved to Grantham from Cortez, which is only a couple of hours south in our little corner of Colorado.
I tried to get down to Cortez to visit my mom every couple of weeks and even then, I could see that things with her was just a little off. She was functioning but I noticed that late in the day she wasn't tracking very well. Calling me by her dead sister's name or picking up the framed photos asking who the people were in the pictures.
But, in the grips of my self centered youth, I just chalked it up to dad's
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