Cat widened her eyes, a grin spreading across her whole face. “My thoughts exactly. Tell that to Eliza the next time she wants a pepperoni and mushroom pizza. Who eats fungus?”
“How do you feel about beets?”
She stuck her tongue out. “Eww. Disgusting.”
“I agree. They rank lower than squid and fungus for me. When I was a kid, my uncle bet me ten dollars I couldn’t eat one slice of canned beets.”
When he didn’t continue, she prompted him. “And?”
“Oh, I ate it. It just didn’t stay down. And my uncle reneged on the bet, saying my ‘reversal of fortune’ meant I hadn’t succeeded.”
She stomped in mock indignation. “That’s unfair.”
“Yes, so I remind him every time I see him. In my view, he still owes me ten bucks.”
“I agree.”
There was a pause after their chuckling died down. This was a natural point at which to part ways. She had other errands to run. Surely he did, too. “Well, at least if you and I ever were to eat together, we have similar tastes,” she blurted out.
Ben glanced at his watch.
Guilt nipped at her for holding him up. “Sorry,” she began before he cut her off.
“How about right now? Wanna grab lunch? Chili’s is right over there and I’m hungry now that I’ve deprived myself of my Twinkies.” His words came out in a rush. “I wanted to ask you about your computer, anyway.”
She hesitated. Was he asking her out on a date? She wasn’t sure. For one thing, he was talking about her computer. Not exactly flirtatious banter. For another, it was a last minute offer. Maybe he felt obligated, given their conversation. And thirdly, he had a girlfriend. At least she thought so.
Maybe Eliza was right and she should ask him. But that would be awkward either way. If he hadn’t meant it as a date, she’d be mortified that she’d assumed it was. If it were a date, she didn’t quite know how she felt about that, either. On the one hand, she really enjoyed this Ben Cooper, from what she knew of him. He felt comfortable, familiar. On the other, that’s exactly why he was a bit scary. She’d rather not think of things in terms of dating or not. Wasn’t it much more pleasant just to enjoy someone’s company?
“Um, sure. But I’ve got all this stuff in my cart.”
He glanced down at the frozen dinners. “No problem. We’re in the right place.” He scanned the aisle, looking for the low-cal meals. “Here, I’ll help.”
She giggled as he started pulling items out of her cart and sticking them back in the freezers. She scooted around to the front of her cart to help him. “Let’s make it a race. Last one with a box buys dessert.” She threw him a wink.
“You’re on,” he called, reaching for several more boxes. “Only you’ve got me at a disadvantage.” He whipped open another freezer door, searching for the proper spot.
“What’s that?”
“You know where you originally got all of these.”
A minute later, they were done, Cat claiming victory. She laughed out loud, her breath fast from the exhilaration of their goofy game. Other shoppers shot them disapproving glances, but she didn’t care.
Ben gave her a formal bow. “I concede. ‘Twas a noble fight, but you outfoxed me.”
“I cheated,” she admitted. “I knew I had five baked zitis in there. I grabbed them all at once.”
“A general never reveals her wartime strategy.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” She gave him a mock salute.
He walked back over and retrieved his own cart. “Hey, let me get these few things, okay? They’ll keep fine in the car. I’ll meet you over there.”
“No problem.” She pushed her own now-empty cart to the front. She didn’t even mind that she’d have to come back and get her groceries later. She couldn’t deny the jauntiness in her step as she left for the restaurant. Bantering with Ben Cooper was fun.
A few minutes later, he slid into the booth across from her. “Hope that wasn’t too long.”
“No, no, you’re good. I was debating what I wanted. I’m thinking a salad.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What kind of lunch is that? Go for the nachos!”
She took a sip of her ice water, the corners of her mouth turning up as she did so. “Nachos and Twinkies. The foods of the gods.”
“Darn right,” he said. “At least once in a while.”
“Fine. I’ll eat one or two of yours if you’ll share. But I still want a salad.”
“Deal.”
After they ordered, Ben sat forward. “How’s your Internet working? Any more problems?”
“You mean since my cat tried to derail the biggest sale we’ve ever had? Nope. It’s working like a charm.” Was that disappointment on his face?
“Good, good.” He paused. “Do you guys have wi-fi?”
Cat swirled her straw in her glass. “Um, upstairs, yeah. Eliza set that up. I don’t get how all of that stuff works.”
“But not in the store?”
“No.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”
“I was thinking it might draw people in. You know, like the coffee idea. More and more places offer free wi-fi because they know people want to be on their gadgets.”
“I run a bookstore, not a computer store.”
“I know.” He held his hands up. “It was only an idea.”
“Would it cost extra?”
“Nope. You already have Internet. I could come over and help install a router if you’d like.”
“Hmm. Eliza probably would like being able to work on her laptop while she’s downstairs.”
The waitress brought their nachos. Ben dug in with gusto, which tickled Cat for some reason. “I guess you do like nachos.”
“Sorry.” He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “I didn’t eat breakfast, so I’m super hungry.”
“For shame, Mr. Cooper. They say that’s the most important meal of the day.”
“Who’s this ‘they’ that everybody always refers to? I’d like to know who invested ‘them’ with such power?”
She shrugged. “Dunno. Anyway, yes to the router, if you have the time.” She set a nacho on her plate. They did look good.
“Sure. I’m busy most of tomorrow, but could come by in the evening if you’d like.” He scooped up another nacho and popped it in his mouth.
“Ooh, no, sorry. Tomorrow night’s our first open mic Poetry Night.” She rested her arms on the table and leaned in. “Wanna come?”
He stopped mid-bite. He shook his head. After he’d finished his mouthful, he said, “I’m, uh, not exactly the poetry type. Too emotive for me.”
She gave him a cheeky grin. “Not even limericks?”
“Haha. Limericks, maybe. But ask me to go much beyond ‘Roses are red, violets are blue,’ and you’ll quickly learn, that, uh, er ...” He paused. “Well, you’ll learn I’m not a poet. As evidenced by my lame construction of that simple sentence.”
Cat speared a piece of lettuce from the Caesar salad the waitress had just brought. “I can’t look at you right now,” she teased before taking a bite, throwing her nose up in the air.
“Okay, fine.” He took a breath, looking her square in the eye. “How about this:
“Seafood’s disgusting. Mushrooms are eww.
I’d rather have Twinkies. Nachos, too.”
His eyes sparkled in merriment as he finished his impromptu poem. If the word could be applied to the travesty, that was. She brought her napkin to her mouth to cover it while she laughed. He was a riot.
“Thank you for interrupting me from grocery shopping,” she said after a moment. “It’s my least favorite chore.”
“And here I was thinking you were going to resent me because now you have to go back.”
She waved a hand. “More excuses to order pizza. Eliza will thank you.”
He settled back in the booth, having polished off his nachos. “Why don’t you like grocery shopping?”
She hadn’t expected such a direct question, though she s
hould have, considering she’s the one who brought up the topic. “Um,” she said, fumbling. “To be honest, it’s lonely. I’m buying for one. Sometimes two, if I’m getting stuff for Eliza, too. But mostly I watch moms with babies, or couples flirting over which kind of cereal to buy, or see girls around the same age as my nieces, and it makes me feel alone. More alone than I feel about anywhere else.”
He studied her for a moment. “That makes sense.” He sat up, taking a sip of his iced tea. “Where are your nieces? Local?”
“No. Ohio. My sister Marie and her husband live there. My mom moved there a few years ago, too.”
“That must be hard. My parents live in Fredericksburg, but that’s only ninety minutes away. And my sister is local.”
“You’re lucky.”
“Ever thought about moving?”
She winced. “I have. But then I’d have to give up the bookstore. It’s ... well, it’s one of the last links I have to my dad. At least it feels like that.” After a pause, she added, “And I don’t want to give it up. Most of the time, at least. I love it. Walking into the main room, with the wood and the fireplace and all those books, soothes me every time.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “Does that sound weird?”
“Not to me. I’m peculiar about my spaces, too.”
“Peculiar. Not a word people generally want ascribed to them.”
Ben shifted in the booth. “That’s not what I meant.”
She laughed lightly. “Teasing.” She nodded in thanks as the waitress refilled her ice water. “So, what brought you to Charlottesville? Or did you grow up here?”
“Nah, Fredericksburg. Nice town. Of course, the last place I wanted to be when I finished high school was in Virginia, so I headed to MIT for undergrad, then Carnegie Mellon for grad school.”
“Holy cow. You must be brilliant. Even I know those are some of the top schools for computer science.”
Ben looked down at his plate, but he couldn’t hide the color spreading across his cheeks. “I don’t know about that. Regardless, by the time I finished grad school, I was longing to be closer to home again. I got lucky when I got the position at UVa.”
“Sounds more to me like they’re lucky to have you.”
He chuckled. “You’re good for a man’s ego, Catherine Schreiber. I can tell you that.”
“Just giving credit where credit is due. So tell me more about your time here.”
They lapsed into easy conversation, talking about favorite places in Charlottesville. He was fond of Jefferson’s gardens on the UVa grounds; she confessed she enjoyed sitting on the downtown pedestrian mall to people-watch when she got a chance. They talked about good places to eat, movies they liked—The Princess Bride was a mutual favorite—books they didn’t—why was Moby Dick so highly rated?
At one point, his phone beeped. He pulled it out, checked the screen, and frowned. “I have to go,” he said as he tucked the phone back in his jeans pocket. “I didn’t realize it was already 2:00. That was a colleague, saying I have a line outside my office. I’m supposed to be there for office hours.” He waved the waitress over and asked for the checks.
“It’s 2:00?” Where had the time gone?
“Yeah. I took up much of your free day. I’m sorry.”
“Nah, this was fun. Much better than wrestling with the dreaded checkbook.”
He stood up. “Do you want me to get this?” He gestured toward the bill.
“No, don’t be silly. I can afford a salad.” Eliza would say if he offered to pay, it was a date. Cat was certain, however, he’d only offered because she’d stupidly referenced her checkbook.
She pulled out her credit card and set it on the table.
“Thanks for a delightful afternoon.”
“It was. And I have a dinner date this evening. Talk about feeling spoiled.”
Okay. Definitely not a date. He’s going out with someone tonight. Her mind pictured the redhead she’d seen him with before. You could ask him about her. The slightest of frowns crossed her brow before she smoothed her face into a pleasant smile. Not on your life.
“Business?” she heard herself say. She cringed inwardly. What happened to not asking?
“No, thank goodness. Going to the American Shakespeare Center in Staunton, actually. I can’t wait.”
She stood up, using the excuse of leaning over to get her purse to hide her face from him. She knew it had to reflect the disappointment coursing through her.
“I’m free Thursday morning. Shall I stop by then?”
Clearly, he hadn’t noticed. Good. “Sounds great.”
He flashed a broad smile at her. “I had a great time, Cat.”
“Me, too.” She walked out ahead of him, squaring her shoulders.
“See you!” he called as he drifted off toward his car. “You, too.”
You, too, her head echoed. ‘Mushrooms are eww.’
Chapter 9
“Dude, this is the poetry place, right?”
Cat looked up as a group of teenagers tumbled through the door. The one who had spoken was clutching a pack of papers in his hand. Tattoos snaked up the side of his neck, seemingly at odds with the thick-rimmed glasses he wore. Two girls behind him laughed in that self-conscious way teenage girls had. One had long blue hair and blue fingernails to match and was garbed in a floor-length black dress. She had a pretty face, from what one could see under the heavy eyeliner and lipstick she wore. The other girl was dressed more plainly, in faded jeans and a ratty T-shirt under a black jacket, but had piercings in her eyebrow, cheek, and nose. And probably tongue.
“Yes, it is,” she answered. “Head over there by the podium and find a spot to make yourself comfortable. We’ve got coffee and a few treats from the coffee shop across the street, so help yourself.”
“Dude, free food!” said the other boy in the group, the one Cat hadn’t noticed at first. He was skinny as a rail, but watching him dive into the food, Cat knew she’d be lucky if there were anything left over for the other people now coming through the door. A couple of college-age girls entered, followed by the elderly couple who had been in earlier. The man winked at Eliza, who was across the room pulling out extra chairs.
“I told you we’d be back,” he said to Cat, a teasing glimmer in his eye. “C’mon, Myra, let’s go get a spot next to the blue-haired girl. She looks interesting.”
“Help yourself to coffee and snacks—while they last.” Cat turned to greet the next party coming in, a group of older ladies wearing red hats.
“Welcome to the Treasure Trove,” she said in greeting, “and to our first Poetry Night. We’ve got seats over there and a few refreshments, if you’re hungry or thirsty.”
“Oh, I shouldn’t have any sweets,” demurred one of the ladies, a plump little white-haired woman with a friendly face, as she made a beeline for the brownies.
Eliza sidled up to Cat. “Wow, did you think we’d get so many? There must be at least twenty people in here.”
Cat grinned. “I know. This is wonderful. But I think the posse of teenagers may lay waste to the food before anyone else has a shot at it.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Eliza answered. “I can always run over and get more.”
Cat nodded, looking around the room and then back toward the door.
“He’s not here, is he?” Eliza asked.
“Who?” Cat ignored the butterflies in her stomach.
“Whadd’ya mean, who? Your guy, that’s who—Grayson!”
“He’s not my guy.” She had to admit, she was disappointed not to see him. Any woman with hormones would be. But perhaps it was better; she needed to focus on the business at hand, not moon after a sex-on-a-stick twenty-something with whom she’d never have a chance, a chance she shouldn’t want. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go open the floor. It’s time to get started.”
Cat crossed to stand behind the podium. “Welcome to the Treasure Trove’s first Poetry Night! We’re so glad you’re here and look forward to hearing what
you have to share with us, whether it’s original compositions or some of your favorite poems. Anything goes, but let’s try to keep it profanity-free, all right?”
“Aw, shit,” she heard the tattooed boy mutter under his breath.
She went on. “I’m Cat Schreiber, and this is Eliza James, and we own the Treasure Trove. We hope you’ll spread the word about us.”
“Rah, rah!” Eliza called from the back.
“And now, without further ado, I turn the mic over to you.” Cat looked out over the small crowd. Nobody came up. She waved them forward with her hand. “Come on, who’s gonna break the ice? I promise we won’t laugh.”
“OK, dude, I’ll go,” said the boy with the tattoos. He adjusted his glasses and walked to the front. Cat moved off to stand at the side.
The boy gave what Cat assumed was intended to be a sultry look to the girl garbed in black and said, “Annika, this is for you.
“Your eyes so brown, your hair so blue.
Your bitchin’ body and nose ring, too.
Your way of smoking your cigarettes,
These are things I’ll never forget.”
Cat glanced at Eliza, struggling to control the laughter bubbling to the surface. I promised I wouldn’t, she told herself sternly as she bit down on her bottom lip. Briefly, her mind wandered to Ben. His poem hadn’t been much better. Eliza, who’d taken a seat next to her senior admirer, rolled her eyes and then pointed toward the object of the poem, who sat as if enraptured, gazing at the boy with wide eyes and a happy smile on her face.
“At least someone’s enjoying it,” whispered a voice from behind her. Jumping, Cat turned to see Grayson standing there.
“When did you come in?” Her voice came out sharper than she had intended, from the shock of seeing him and having him stand so close to her. Damn, he smelled good, of a heady cologne that, thank goodness, he hadn’t applied too heavily. She could feel the warmth of his body against her back. A shiver raced down her spine.
“I sneaked in while you were greeting the Red Hat Club over there. I was looking at a book while you were performing the opening ceremony.”
The Magic of Love Series Page 8
