Luck of Love

by Aleman, Tiffany

  My car isn’t anything exceptional, but I love it. It was a graduation present from my parents. It's a 2008 black Nissan Altima, with dark grey leather interior, a sunroof, navigation system, and a custom stereo system. I smooth my hands over the steering wheel and starting the car. Backing up and pulling out of the parking lot, butterflies take flight in my stomach from the anticipation of seeing Derrick again.

  On the drive over to the café, unsettling thoughts run through my mind. I don’t know what to expect from this lunch. He said that we would discuss it, but I’m just not sure what there is to discuss. My left leg bounces against the floorboard of the car from the anxiety that’s starting to set in.

  Pulling into the parking lot across the street from the café, I look over to the clock nestled in the dashboard. Twelve fifty-five is what it reads. Shutting off the engine, I have five minutes I think to myself. Leaning back in my seat, I close my eyes and take deep breaths trying to calm my nerves.

  Stepping out of my car, I feel cocooned in the welcoming scent of the Atlantic sea breeze. The sounds of waves crashing down on the packed sand of the beach, the calls of seagulls echoes through children laughing as their parents chase them up and down the boardwalk, and the ringing of bells from peoples’ bikes as they ride up and down the street help calm my nerves.

  Walking across the street and entering the café, I’m in a state of awe. It’s small, but inviting. The aroma of different blends of coffee tantalizes my senses. Looking around, the painted walls are light green and light brown tones with white trim. In the center, sits a few antique tables and chairs. Couches, wing-backed chairs and miniature coffee tables rest in front of the floor to ceiling windows that make up the right wall. The view of the ocean is spectacular. Books, magazines, souvenirs and bags of coffee sit on shelves along the left wall. Straight back, behind the tables and chairs, sits a coffee bar tucked away.

  Slowly looking around for Derrick, my search ends when our eyes meet from across the room. Watching him stand and stride over to me, I can’t help but gawk at him. He’s wearing a charcoal gray fitted suit, a white button down dress shirt and a scarlet red tie. My mouth begins to water at the sight before me. Without knowing it, I involuntarily bite my bottom lip as I watch the muscles in his legs flex against the suit’s material.

  Reaching me with a smile on his face, he takes my now limp right hand in his while leaning in to brush a kiss against my cheek. Pulling back and giving me a once over he says, “You look beautiful.”

  Heat creeps up my neck and onto my face as I reply quietly, “Thank you. You look handsome too.”

  Gently tugging on my hand, he leads me to our table. Sitting down I say, “This is nice. How did you know about this place?”

  “About six months ago, I came here with my boss, the owner of Atlantic Knights. He owns a beach house here in Ocean City. He’d invited me to come and spend Memorial Day weekend with him, his family and some of his other business associates,” he answers nonchalantly.

  “Do you come here to Ocean City often?” I ask.

  “No, not really. Actually, when I did that seminar at your school, that’s the first time I’d been back since Memorial Day.”

  Just as I’m about to ask him another question, a young woman with short brown hair approaches our table with two menus. Handing the menus to us she says, “Hello, my name’s Cindy, and I’ll be taking care of you this afternoon. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

  Smiling, I look up at her and say, “I’ll have an iced tea with lemon.”

  Nodding, she looks over to Derrick and says, “And for you, sir?”

  “I’ll have the same, please,” he replies smiling.

  Cindy nods at us as she turns to walk away. I turn my attention back to Blake while she looks over the menu. Lifting up my own menu, I peruse the options. Looking over the menu, I ask Blake, “What do you think sounds good?”

  “Hmm…the blueberry and cream cheese filled crepes sound wonderful, with a side dish of fresh fruit and a bagel,” she replies.

  Looking up, she laughs at my dropped jaw and shocked look and says, “What? I'm hungry; I didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast. So, now that I’m here I'm going to eat.”

  Smiling and shaking my head, I can’t help the low chuckle that escapes me. I watch as confusion crosses her face and her eyebrows dip in and she asks, “What?”

  “Nothing. I’m just not used to a woman actually eating is all,” I reply.

  “What do you mean actually eating? Don’t the women you normally take out eat?” she asks incredulously.

  “They do, but normally, they eat only a salad. Even then, they pick at it. I guess they try and gauge how many pieces will satisfy their hunger while not busting the zippers on their overly tight dresses.”

  She begins laughing and says, “I assure you that I’m not like that. I enjoy eating and have no intention of starving myself for the sake of zippers.”

  Smiling back at her I say, “Well, that’s good to know.”

  Approaching our table with our drinks, Cindy sets them down in front of us and asks, “Are you ready to order, or will you need a little more time?”

  “Umm… I think we’re ready,” Blake says, looking at me for confirmation. Nodding at her to proceed, she continues, “I’ll have the blueberry and cream cheese crepes, with a side dish of fresh fruit and a bagel, please.”

  Blake hands Cindy her menu as she finishes scribbling down Blake’s order. Tucking it under her arm, she turns her attention to me and says, “And for you, sir?”

  “I'll have the blueberry crepes with cream cheese as well, but I’d also like the biscuits and gravy with two eggs over-medium and bacon,” I reply, handing her my menu.

  Nodding, Cindy says, “I’ll be back with your orders shortly.”

  As soon as Cindy leaves, Blake says, “So Derrick, tell me something about yourself.”

  Leaning back in my chair, I lift my leg resting my ankle over my knee. “What do you want to know?” I ask her.

  Shrugging her shoulders, she says, “Where you went to college, what your major was, when’s your birthday, where you’re from; things like that.”

  Sitting up straight, I drop my leg back down onto the ground and say, “My birthday is January eighteenth, I’m originally from Colorado, I went to college at Columbia where I received my Bachelors in Business and received my Masters in Marketing and Advertising.”

  With wide eyes she replies, “Wow…Columbia, that’s impressive. Did you have a good college experience?”

  “Yeah, I did. My best friend that I grew up with, went with me, so it was a good time, needless to say,” I reply.

  “Do you like working at the casino?” she asks.

  “It has its good days and its bad ones. I spend a lot of time holed up in my office, but there’re times that I work the floor too.”

  “Which do you prefer, working the floor or being in your office?” She asks as Cindy approaches our table with a tray holding our food. Setting our plates down in front of us, I unroll my silverware, picking up my fork and knife. Cutting into my crepes, I stab the cut piece with my fork lifting it to take a bite. I look over to Blake, watching her eyes roll back in her head, moaning quietly as she takes her first bite. “This is so good,” she says.

  My dick twitches to life as I stare at her; listening to those quiet little moans is putting me in a compromising situation. Adjusting in my seat, I shove my fork in my mouth, taking a bite. Damn, these crepes are good. Opening her eyes, she’s caught me staring. I don’t try to avert my eyes in any other direction; I keep them solely focused on her and that delightful mouth of hers. If we weren’t in public right now I’d be giving her a reason to moan, and it wouldn’t be because of food.

  Clearing my throat and trying to turn my thoughts in a different direction I ask, “Didn’t you ask me something about my job before our food came?”

  “Oh yeah, I asked if you like being in your office or working the floor more,” she says while
wiping the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

  “I don’t honestly know. That’s not something I’ve been asked before. Being in my office can be calming when I want to get away from all the craziness downstairs, but working on the floor has its perks too. I get to meet people from all walks of life you know,” I say in between bites. Taking a drink of my tea I ask, “What about you?” Her body stiffens with tension from that question.

  Swallowing a drink, she asks, “What about me?”

  With my plate nearly cleared, I lay down my knife and fork, wipe my mouth with my napkin and say, “Well, let’s start with how old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-two, but I’ll be twenty-three on the twelfth of December.”

  My eyebrows raise as I say, “You’re only twenty-two?”

  Returning my look, she says, “Yes, and you’re thirty- two. Is there a problem with that?”

  Shaking my head frantically and replying, “No, no, no, there’s no problem with that. I just didn’t expect you to be so young.”

  Narrowing her eyes she says, “Hmm…and I didn’t expect you to be so old.” There’s humor laced in her tone as she tries to keep from laughing.

  So, I do it for her. I laugh and say, “Touché.”

  Bowing her head, she says, “Now that we have that out of the way, what else would you like to know?”

  “Where are you from?”

  “I’m from Florida,” she replies.

  “Do you miss it?” I ask.

  Taking another sip of her tea, she shrugs as she places the glass back down on the table. “Sometimes. I miss the warm weather and the beaches, but that’s about it.”

  “You don’t like the beaches we have here in New Jersey?”

  “No, I didn’t mean it like that. The beaches here are nice, but they aren’t the same as the ones back home. The water there is a stunning turquoise color that glistens when the sun hits it. The water’s always warm. The sand’s different there too. It’s this sun-kissed white color, that feels soft and powder-like instead of grainy under your feet. In addition, the weather is a lot warmer than it is here; I miss that too, I guess.” She answers with this dreamy look as she reminisces about her home state.

  “What made you choose to attend Rowan University if you miss Florida?”

  Within in an instant, that dreamy look is gone, and her face goes stoic. “I wanted a change, I guess. In Florida, we don’t truly get a fall or winter. It’s nice here, and I like it. I really like the advertising program that I’m in at Rowan too. My teachers are dedicated and are always willing to work with me if I need it.”

  Cindy walks up to our table holding our check. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asks, removing our plates.

  I shake my head no and look over to Blake. She also shakes her head. “No, thank you, Cindy; the check will be just fine.”

  “Yes, sir,” she says as she hands me the check. Before she has a chance to walk away from the table, I reach into my back pocket pulling out my wallet handing my credit card and the check back to her. “I’ll take care of this right away,” she says leaving the table.

  Blake reaches into her purse, pulling out her car keys. Interrupting her I say, “What are you doing next weekend?”

  Blinking in surprise at my question she stammers, “Uhh…I have to…have to work. Why?” she replies.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I had a really good morning,” I say, arching an eyebrow and continuing, “And a lovely afternoon today. I’d really like to see you again.”

  Clearing her throat, she looks around the café, at other people sitting and eating, at the waitresses—anywhere but at me. “I don’t know. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I had a really great time this morning and now…it’s just that I’ve never been in this situation before,” she says solemnly.

  “I’m not sure what situation you’re referring to.” I say, bewildered.

  Ghosting her hand back and forth between us, she looks up at me through her eyelashes and whispers, “This situation.” Putting an emphasis on this—meaning us.

  “Have you never dated anyone before?” I ask, now that I know what she’s getting at.

  “No,” she answers sharply.

  “Okay, how about this. I’ll come down either next Friday or Saturday night, and we’ll hang out. Let’s work on getting to know each other better and see where it goes,” I say thinking that my idea sounds logical. I have no clue as to why she’s never been on a date before, but by the tone in her voice when she answered, it’s a topic that I’m not going push.

  She nods her head hesitantly and says, “Okay.”

  “What are you so happy about?” Dean asks me.

  Sitting on the chaise lounge with my phone, I’ve been steadily texting Derrick for the past hour. We’ve talked about how my day at school was uneventful, except for the fact that I need to start working on my thesis for next year. I asked him how his day was going, and he replied saying that he had meetings back to back.

  Derrick: Hey there beautiful. I’m able to get away from the casino tonight. Do you mind if I come over?

  Me: Of course you can.

  “Blake,” Dean yells at me.

  “Huh? What? Why are you yelling at me?” I say, confused as to what his problem is.

  “I asked what you’re so happy about. You’ve been walking around here, school, even the bar smiling all week. So what’s it all for?”

  “Well, you know how I told you all about my lunch with Derrick last Sunday.”

  “Yeah,” he replies as if he knows where this is going.

  “We’ve been texting and talking on the phone all week, and now he’s coming into town tonight,” I say ecstatic.

  “Is he staying here?” he asks.

  “I don’t know, I mean, I haven’t thought about it honestly. I’m just so excited to see him again.”

  Shaking his head he points at me, and says, “Look at you; you’re like the girls I went to high school with.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask as irritation starts to rise in me.

  Placing his hands in front of his chest like he’s praying, batting his eyelashes, he says in a singsong voice, “Derrick is coming over. Oh. My. God. I can’t believe it, I mean, he’s just so cute.” Dropping his hands and returning to his normal voice he adds, “That’s what I mean.”

  Throwing my head back, a boisterous laugh erupts from me as I say, “Don’t ever do that again, Princess.”

  “Screw you,” he says in between his own laughter.

  As my laughter begins subsiding, “I get what you’re saying and honestly I didn’t even realize I was being that annoying,” I say.

  Walking over to the couch, he plops down on the cushion next to me patting the top of my leg and says, “Don’t worry, that’s what I’m here for, to remind you when you’re being annoying.”

  Laying my head against his shoulder, I say, “And that’s why I love you because you don’t put up with my shit.”

  Walking into the bar, I get jostled around like a rag doll while trying to make my way to Frankie’s office. This place is packed for a Friday night. People shout and chant all around me. It’s too loud in here to make out what they’re saying. Finally making my way to the office, I fling my jacket up on the coat rack and pull the door shut behind me.

  Rushing behind the bar, I feel the vibrations of my phone in my back pocket. Sneaking a glance in Frankie’s direction, I quickly reach for my phone and read the text message.

  Derrick: On my way, I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes.

  Quickly, I type back that it’s a packed house tonight. Shoving the phone back in my pocket, I yell over to Frankie as I start pouring shots, cashing in orders, and starting tabs, “Why is this place so packed tonight?”

  “Hell, I don’t know, but I’m not complaining,” he yells back at me.

  Wiping my hands on my towel that hangs loosely out of my right back pocket, I look to see Kyle sitting at the bar wea
ring a red and white striped polo shirt with a black leather jacket. He’s very attractive with his light blonde hair, straight white teeth, and the build of a surfer –which would make sense since he’s from California-, but he’s also very caring and timid and never has one bad thing to say about anyone. Kyle and I have many of the same classes together, with Dean in a couple of them. When Dean and I first met, we also met Kyle. We were all a part of the same study groups. All of our personalities meshed well. With Kyle being in a frat, we don’t really hang out together off campus.

  He brought Ryan to a study group one time, and I really tried to give him a chance, but all he did was hit on me. After a while, it became annoying but I’ve always kept that to myself. Finally, one night after study group, Ryan pushed me too far and I told him as nicely as possible that I wasn’t interested. Needless to say, he never returned back to our study group.

  “Hey, what’s going on? What can I get for you?” I all but shout at him.

  “I’ll have an Alabama Slammer,” he answers back.

  Nodding I begin mixing his drink and ask, “Do you know what’s going on? Why it’s so packed in here?”

  “Hell yeah I do,” he says drumming his hands on the bar, “Grunge posted on Facebook that they were going to be making a special appearance here tonight.” Cocking his head to the side he asks, “Didn’t you know?”

  With widening eyes, I answer, slightly shaking my head, “No, they normally only play here at the most three times a month and never back to back.”

  Shrugging his shoulders, I hand him the drink. Taking a sip he says, “Oh, well they are tonight.”

  “All right, well thanks for that little bit of info. I can’t really talk right now,” I say motioning at the crowded bar. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay,” I say tapping the bar twice before walking over to Frankie.

  Nudging his shoulder to get his attention, I ask, “Hey, did you know that Grunge said they’re making a special appearance here tonight?”

  “Jax mentioned it to me last Saturday night about wanting to play here this weekend, but I told him if that’s what he planned to do, he needed to let me know in advance. Fucker. How did you find out about it?” He looks over to me arching an eyebrow as if I knew this and was keeping it to myself.