by Hannah Meade
BRING
BRING
BR... "What?" Whoever is calling and waking me up during my hangover is going to pay.
"Is this Ms. Hatheway?"
"Um, yeah? Who are you?" That definitely is not Mia, or either of my parents. Who else would be calling me?
"I am just calling to remind you of your interview with Barnes and Noble at ten o'clock. In two hours."
In two hours. One hour to get ready. One hour to drive there. I have to get up, get dressed, and look presentable enough for an interview at my favorite place in the world in less than ONE HOUR. God, how could I forget this? I have been looking forward to this for weeks. Stupid drunk me. I curse you for being so stupid.
"Oh, yes. Of course. I will be there. Thank you for reminding me."
"You are very welcome. I will see you soon."
To-Do List:
-Get out of bed
-Get dressed in nice outfit
-Control very tangled hair
-Brush teeth (with extra mouthwash)
-Put on makeup (I cannot look like a slob on the most important interview of my life)
-Eat breakfast
-Take Tylenol and nausea medicine (Wouldn't want to be blowing chunks at the interview)
Forty-two minutes and twenty seconds.
Stop being so organized and just do the To-Do List.
~~~
Forty minutes later, I am in the car and heading to my interview.
I rack my brain for the practice interview questions I had looked up the other day. I have only had one other interview before and that was five years ago. I am extremely nervous, to say the least. Plus, this interview is a big deal. I hope to keep this job through college, mostly because it is a five minute walk from the college I will be attending. The whole reason I quit my last job was because it was at least an hour away and I could not afford to be making that trip.
I pull up to the building and give myself a quick once-over. I breathe into my hand, and still smell alcohol. Even after I gurgled mouthwash for an entire three minutes, the scent still lingers. Luckily, I have breath mints in my purse for emergencies. One deep breathe in, and I am ready to go.
I end up waiting for my interviewer for forty minutes. She claims traffic was bad, but said she was at the coffee shop ten minutes away. Although I figured it is best not to question my possible future boss, her story has some visible cracks.
I follow her back to her very nice office. It has a couch and everything, good place for reading books.
"I realize I have not even introduced myself yet. I apologize again. I am Mrs. Livingston, the manager of Barnes and Noble."
I shake her outstretched hand and put on my best smile. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Livingston."
"Tell me about yourself, Ms. Hatheway."
I cleared my throat and search my brain for the things I picked to say. "I am eighteen years old, going to be a freshman in college in the fall. I plan on attending New York University to study literature and writing. I dream of becoming either a professional writer or a book editor. My last job was at a local bookstore near my house and I absolutely loved it. I hope to obtain another job at a bookstore, so I can continue my passion and do what I love." I promise, that whole thing was not rehearsed. I just hope it sounded professional and not just random facts I spouted off.
Luckily, she gives me a wide smile. "Well, it sounds like you are a very bright student and have a certain passion for written literature. Do you mind me asking why you quit your last job if you loved it so dearly?"
"I unfortunately had to resign from my last job because of location. I could not make the hour trip necessary to go to NYU and work at that job."
"Well, that makes sense. I know what it is like to be a freshman in college and I completely understand where you are coming from. Have you always loved reading and writing or has it just come recently?"
Recently? Why would I have a library job for five years if I did not love reading and writing? "I have always loved reading and writing, ever since I was a baby. My mother read to me even when I was still in her stomach. She had just as much a passion for reading as I did. In fact, she even had a job here once."
"Oh, I knew your mother. Abigail Hatheway. She was a very good employee; always showed up for work on time, always came to the weekly meetings and contributed, and always had fun with the kids during story time. She was such a joy to have around. I missed her dearly when she left."
"She talked constantly about how wonderful this job was."
"Yes, I could tell she loved it here. Always smiling, such a bright lady. Anyway, back to you. What would you consider are your biggest strengths?"
~~~
After about an hour of questions, I am finally done with the interview. I am pretty sure I am getting the job. Mrs. Levingston seemed to really like me, and it helped that she was a fan of my mother when she worked here.
Once I am back in the car, and ready to go home and nap, my phone rings. Again. Reluctantly, I pick it up. "Yeah?"
"Just reminding you of our lunch date you promised to go on. Remember the donuts?"
I wrinkle my eyebrows. Who is this guy and why is he calling me to remind me about some lunch date? "I think you have the wrong number."
"This is Mia, right?"
How does he know my name? This is getting really creepy. My eyes instinctively dart around, searching for someone hiding in the bushes, waiting to jump out and yell, "Got ya."
And then I remember. I agreed to go on a date with a random guy. Smart, real smart. "Oh. You are Marcus. Right, I am so sorry. My memory is kind of foggy from last night."
I can tell he is smiling through the phone. "No worries. So, that date?"
I look at the time. 11 a.m. If I leave right now, I will just make it there. "I will be there. I might be a few minutes late, but I will be there."
"That's fine. See you soon, Mia."
Dammit. Why does my heart flutter when he says my name? It just sounds so right with his voice. I want him to keep saying it and never stop.
No, snap out of it, Mia. This is just some random date with some random guy and after today, you guys will never talk to each other again. This is nothing.
I look down and realize he has already hung up and I did not even notice. The only thing I really was noticing is the new feeling in my stomach when he called. Ugh. Why did I have to go to that party last night? If I had not, I would have never almost missed my interview and I would never have met Marcus and stupidly promised to go on a date with him. Stupid Emily and her stupid parties.
By now it is already ten after and I have not even left the parking lot. Shit. I am definitely going to be late now.
As I head off to the café, my mind wanders to the food I am about to devour. I did not have breakfast this morning, and the closest thing I had to food last night was a bottle of gin with a used tomato can sticker half-on it.
My stomach grumbles, reminding me of just how hungry I am.
On the way to the café, my phone rings twice more. Emily is up, and annoying me. I would like to think of myself as a law-biding citizen who doesn't answer her phone while driving, but she is really starting to get on my nerves. The third time she calls, I finally just pick it up.
"What do you want, Emily? I am driving." I hope I sounded as irritated as I feel.
"Sorry. You were not picking up and I got worried. I got home forty-five minutes ago and you were not here so I freaked. You did not even leave a note, Mia. Where the hell are you?" For her sake, she legitimately sounds worried about me.
"I was at my interview, thank you. I have only told you about it every day for the past week. I got done with it at eleven. And where the hell have you been? Huh? You were not home when I woke up."
"I texted you last night and said I was going home with some guy. You knew I would probably stay the night."
I laugh. "Yeah, I guess you are kind of predictable, Em. I have to go, though, I am heading to a date right now.”
And then Emily decides it is okay to scream right in my ear. "OHMIGOSH WITH WHOM?"
"Christ, Em. I am already half deaf from the party. I met him last night, he saved me passing out on the floor."
"Mia, you have not had a date in so long. You have to give me all the details when you are done. And I mean everything."
I smile. Emily cannot resist boy talk. "Right. Well, I have already broken the law long enough. I will talk to you later, Em."
"Okay, fine, goody-two-shoes. See you later."
I hang up and turn up the radio. I still have twenty minutes until I am officially late, and I need something to wake me up. Cardi B singing "I Like it Like That" should do the trick.
I am wrong. Flashing red and blue lights in my rear-view mirror wake up me like a shot of adrenaline.
Looks like I am going to be late after all.
Three
I half expect Marcus to be gone by the time I get there, but he is still sitting in a booth scrolling through his phone.
I walk around the corner so I am in his line of sight. He looks up and smiles when he sees me.
I smile and walk over. "Hey, I am so sorry I am late but I have a very good reason." I hold up my speeding ticket, ashamed of it.
His eyes widen. "Holy shit. You got a speeding ticket? Why were you speeding?"
I feel my cheeks redden. "Well, I did not want to be late. I was trying to get here as soon as possible, and I guess the cops noticed. So, thank you for picking a time so goddamn early in the morning that I had to hurry to get here and get a ticket."
He looks like he is trying to hold back a laugh. "It is 12:40 p.m., Mia."
I glare at him. "I went to a party very late last night and I had an interview at ten this morning, an hour away. Planning for noon does not give me a lot of leeway. Next time, let’s meet for dinner."
"There is going to be a next time?" He smirks.
"Let’s just see how this goes."
"Well, it is not starting off very well. You have been yelling at me since you got here. And you got a speeding ticket."
I try to look apologetic. "Sorry. Can we just order? You better not have been lying about the donuts. I am starving." I look down at my menu, my mouth watering at all of the delicious options to choose from.
"I definitely was not lying. This café has the best breakfast you have ever had. And do not compare this to your mother's cooking, it is nowhere near as good as a mother's cooking."
I smile. He is right there. No matter what I eat, nothing compares to my mother's cooking. Granted, my mom owns a high-end restaurant that is widely known for the best food in town. "How many times have you eaten here?"
He shrugs. "Only about a hundred times."
I look at him, trying to determine if he is serious or not.
"My grandma owns this place. I am kind of forced to eat here all the time. Plus, it helps that I only live five minutes away.”
I laugh. "That makes more sense than you just really liking the food."
He meets my eyes and chuckles.
I never noticed before, but he has really blue eyes. The kind of blue eyes you get lost in and never want to come back out of. The kind of blue eyes you only wish you had.
I look away before my thoughts can take me anywhere else besides his eyes. "So, um. What's the best thing on the menu?"
He clears his throat. "Well, I told you to come for the donuts. So you have to at least try one of those. But my favorite thing on this menu is the homemade banana chocolate chip muffins that my grandma claims she bakes with love."
I chuckle. "That is the cutest thing I have ever heard."
"My grandma makes those especially for me, because she knows I need a little extra lovin'."
"Shall we order and see if these muffins live up to the hype?"
"We shall."
"Great. So, what are you thinking?"
He pretends to look over the menu once more, but I know better. He is going to get the muffins. "I was thinking the banana chocolate chip muffins and some apple juice. You?"
"Definitely the chocolate frosted donuts and water. I cannot mix juice with the simple deliciousness of a donut. It just would not be right."
He smirks and calls our waiter over to take our order. "So, tell me about yourself. You know, other than you like to yell at me."
"I do not like to yell at you. But if you get me angry then, yes, I will yell at you. Anyway, I am a soon-to-be freshman in college. I am going to NYU. Um, I live in this area, by an amazing bookstore. Oh, by the way, I love books. I love to read and write. And now you tell me that you cannot see me anymore, because I am too boring or dorky. Right?" I look down, realizing just how dull my life sounds.
"What? No. I think it is kind of cute. Do not be embarrassed about it." He takes his palm and lifts my chin up so I am face to face with him.
Neither of us moves. I cannot breathe, he is taking all of my air.
I never realized how baby blue his eyes are until this moment. I wonder if he can see how heavily I am breathing.
I can feel him lean towards my face and I start to lift off my seat to meet him. Just as I close my eyes…
"Special delivery for my grandson and his date!"
We instantly split apart, both of our hearts racing.
"I think someone ordered a special order of muffins."
I look up to see a short, older woman with an ear-splitting grin on her face holding a tray of steaming muffins. My stomach growls loudly.
She looks at me and laughs. "Well, I will not keep these away from you any longer." She sets down the tray, and I realize she even split each muffin apart and buttered them as well. I feel weak.
I do not waste another second. I dive for a mini muffin, my hunger getting the best of me. I take a bite, and oh, my God. It is honestly one of the best muffins I have ever eaten in my entire life. It is the perfect balance of banana and chocolate. The inside is so gooey and warm, it literally melts in your mouth. Is this what heaven tastes like? "Holy shit. These are amazing. I can see why you get them all the time."
"I told you so. My grandma is the best."
I look over at his grandma, realizing she is still standing there. "These are delicious. How do you make these so creamy and warm? I have never tasted anything like them."
She winks at me. "It is an old family secret." Then she puts her finger to her lips as to tell me to be quiet about it.
Marcus rolls his eyes and says, "She is just pulling your leg. She does not leave them in the pan to cool is all. She takes them right out and butters them, so no flavor is lost. Also, a teaspoon of cinnamon for an added kick."
His grandma takes her hand and whacks him on the back of his head and looks at me. "My grandson, always telling my secrets. You seem like one worthy of the secret, though, hun." She winks at me and turns out to head back to the kitchen.
"Seems like she likes you."
I try to fight back the blush, hating how fast I am falling for Marcus. I just met him yesterday and now I care what his grandma thinks of me?
The waiter comes back and sets down our food we actually ordered, and my stomach grumbles all over again. I take a chocolate glazed donut and turn my attention to Marcus.
He sighs. "Well, there is not much to tell. I am twenty. I am also going to the NYU in the fall. And I love to hike."
I smirk. "Hiking, huh? You do not seem like the outdoors type."
He winks. "You would be surprised what secrets I have up my sleeve, Mia."
I get lost in my donuts, savoring every bite. I really hope this works out between us, because I could not live with myself if I had to avoid this place in the future. I want to try every single thing on the menu.
“You mentioned you had an interview this morning? How did that go?”
I smile and quickly finish my bite. “I hope it went well, the interviewer seemed to like my answers.”
I watch as his fingers delicately pull apart a muffin before continuing his interrogation. “Where did y
ou interview at?”
“Barnes and Noble. It has been a lifelong dream of mine to work there and build my network.”
He looks confused, so I go on to explain what I mean.
“My ultimate goal in life is to be a writer, someday. Working at a store like Barnes and Noble, where they are constantly in contact with famous writers about selling their books can be great experience for me. New York City is a huge city with thousands of aspiring writers to be and some of them have book signings at the store I applied at. If I can introduce myself to one of them and chat with them about what we have in common, writing, I can hopefully get them to help me contact a few famous publishers and editors. Plus, I would be around books all day so that is a plus.”
Marcus is smiling at me once I am finished with my monologue.
I pick up another muffin as a distraction for my fingers and give him a weird look. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It is cute watching you talk about something you are passionate about. Your eyes lit up and I could tell how excited you are about this job. Did they say they would call you soon?”
I nod. “Yeah, she said she would call me within the week if I got the job. Thousands of people apply to this store every week, so I am going to need some serious luck if I want this job.”
He grins. “Well, you have come to the right place. This bakery is full of luck and it comes in the form of food. How can you be worried about the job when you are stuffing your face full of fresh baked goods?”
“That is how she gets her customers! She sucks them in when they are having a bad day and floods the bakery with the smell of fresh muffins until they cave and buy the entire inventory. It is a good tactic, but very sneaky.” I laugh at the image of Marcus’s grandma plotting her selling scheme each day as she kneads the dough.
Marcus’s smile softens. “In all seriousness, though, my grandmother strives to make this place somewhere where everyone feels welcome and loved. She is constantly conversing with the customers and asking them what brings them here each day. And you know what they say? They say it is her love and passion for this bakery that keeps them coming back and buying her goods.” He shakes his head and smiles wide. “She is the most hardworking woman I know, and I love her so much.”
