by Rich Amooi
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, wondering how difficult it was for Lady Red Bull to meditate. “And the books?”
“Oh, of course.” She pointed to a row of books. “You can find them over there in our nonfiction section. I’ll send someone over there to help you, if you’d like.”
“That sounds great, thank you.”
“Thank you. I’m here if you need anything else.”
Cedric wandered over to nonfiction and browsed through books from Deepak Chopra, Eckhart Tolle, and the Dalai Lama. All of the Chicken Soup books were there. A bright green book caught his eye.
He leaned in to grab it and heard a female voice. “Probably not the best choice.”
Cedric felt a chill run through his body. He had memorized that angelic voice; it was tattooed on his brain.
Ellie.
He turned around. “Why is that?”
Judging by the dazed look on her face, she was obviously surprised to see him too. “Oh … Cedric.”
“In the flesh … Ellie.”
They engaged in an impromptu staring contest, not a word spoken, but Cedric lost when he blinked after his eyes started to burn. “So …”
“So …”
“What would you recommend for me?”
Ellie squished her eyebrows together. “What would I recommend for you?”
“Yeah.” He held up the book. “You said this was not a good choice.”
“Oh! Right. There are much better options.” She giggled. “Besides, you probably only picked it because of the color.”
Cedric stood there a moment, in awe of the woman who knew him so well. “You are so wrong,” he lied.
She smirked. “Is that right?”
“I picked it because of the font. Times New Roman is like an aphrodisiac to me.” He pretended to loosen his collar. “Is it hot in here?”
“Did you follow me?”
“I was getting ready to ask you the same thing.”
“Yeah, but, I was here first. Unless you think I anticipated you coming here, quickly applied for a job, was hired, and waited until you showed up.”
Cedric laughed. “You … are very cool.”
He saw Ellie blush, which made her even more beautiful. Her eyes had some type of a force field that sucked him in.
My name is Cedric and I will be your love slave. Take me, I’m yours.
“Let me know when you’re back with me here. I can wait.”
“Coffee,” Cedric blurted out.
“Pardon me?”
“Coffee is good.”
God. His attempt at asking her out was pathetic.
She had a certain look on her face. How would you describe it? Like someone who was at a museum looking at a painting and trying to figure out what the hell it was. Either that or she had a sudden bout of constipation.
“Was that a statement or a question?” she asked.
He knew he needed to ask her out quickly, before the voices returned. “Neither. Both.”
Crap.
She stared at him and had to be thinking he was an idiot.
Obviously she must have felt the uncomfortable silence between his acts of stupidity, because she pulled a book from the shelf and handed it to him. “This is a great book. I highly recommend it.”
Cedric analyzed the cover. “Excuses Begone by Wayne Dyer.” Cedric turned the book over to see the back cover and then flipped through a few pages.
Ellie pointed to the book. “You don’t have an excuse not to read it.”
Cedric read the title again, closed the book, and grinned. “Clever.”
She smiled. “I try.”
“The font isn’t the most exciting, but the book looks interesting. I’ll check it out. Literally.”
“Let me know if you need anything else.” She turned to leave.
“Hey.” Cedric took his eyes off her ass before she caught him, but holy hell, it was a work of art that belonged in the Guggenheim Museum.
She stopped and turned around, but didn’t answer.
Cedric’s heart raced and he forced a smile to try and hide his jitters. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee … to show my appreciation.”
“So, now we’re back to the coffee again, are we?”
Cedric nodded. “It’s the least I can do.”
“For finding you the book?”
“For saving my life.”
“Uh huh …”
“We can go to the Starbucks on the corner.”
“I just got here and I need to at least work for a couple of hours before I can take a break.”
“Not a problem.” He raised the book and smiled. “I have Wayne Dyer to keep me company. I’ll just find a seat and you can let me know when you are ready.”
*****
Three hours later at Starbucks, Cedric and Ellie grabbed their drinks and chose a table near the window overlooking Lincoln Avenue. Cedric immediately noticed an older man eating a scone. “Crap.”
Ellie sat up in her chair. “What?”
He mentally slapped himself in the head for being an idiot. “Sorry. I should have asked you if you wanted a snack or something to go with that coffee. Can I get you something? I don’t mind getting back in line.”
“No, no. Thanks. There’s going to be some food at the library later. We’re celebrating a co-worker’s birthday today. Well, actually, it’s the Branch Manager.”
“Peggy Fleming?”
Ellie’s eyes widened. “Yes. You know her?”
Cedric tried to keep a straight face. “Oh yeah, we go way back.”
“Wow. Small world. How long have you known her?”
“Well, let’s see … I met her, oh, when was it? Oh, that’s right. About three and a half hours ago when I entered the library.”
Ellie hit Cedric playfully on the arm. “You’re bad.”
“Thanks,” he said, laughing. “Glad you noticed.”
He enjoyed the smile on Ellie’s face. She was playful and he liked that. They sat there for a few moments in silence, people-watching, exchanging smiles, sipping coffee, not saying much at all. But the silence didn’t feel uncomfortable. It was like they were just hanging out together, passing time with a good cup of coffee, without a care in the world. It felt good.
No. It felt great.
Cedric took another sip of his coffee. “So.”
“So.”
“You’re a librarian.”
Ellie nodded. “For the last eight years.”
“Very cool. What do you like about it?”
“Hmm. Well, for starters, no two days are alike. One moment I’m helping a child with a picture book, or a senior citizen with a hobby, and the next I’m showing someone tools for learning a new language. I like helping people find answers.”
Cedric smiled again and nodded. “Did you always know you wanted to be a librarian?”
Ellie shrugged. “I was a total bookworm in middle school and high school. But I think it was when I became a library aide in my junior year of high school that I was pretty sure my career would have something to do with books. There was one point when I was reading a book a day.”
“You must have a lot of information stored underneath that wild hair of yours.”
Ellie blushed. “I know a few things.”
“Who was the first person to walk on the moon?”
Ellie sighed. “Seriously? If you are going to try to stump me, you need to come at me with something better than a fifth-grade question.”
“So, you don’t know?”
“Neil Armstrong.”
“Correct … and you’re right, that was too easy. You must be good at Trivial Pursuit.”
“They hired me as a consultant for their Book Lovers Edition.”
Cedric blinked.
She smiled. “You don’t believe me? Try me.”
Cedric sat up and rubbed his hands together. “When was the civil war?”
“Which one?”
“Very good.” Cedric laughed. “Ameri
can.”
“1861 to 1865.”
“The Spanish?”
“1936 to 1939. Look, I appreciate the effort, but I can answer these questions with ninety-nine percent of my brain cells tied behind my back.”
“Is that right?”
She nodded. “Got anything else more … stimulating?”
Cedric grinned. “Of course. Stimulation is my expertise.”
Okay. He couldn’t believe he said that. What was he thinking?
“Well then, give it to me.”
Cedric smiled. “Scientific name for garlic?”
“Allium sutivum.”
He made the sound of a buzzer. “Nice try, but that’s incorrect.”
“No it’s not.”
“It’s allium sativum.”
“Oh come on, close enough.”
“Sorry.”
“You got a thing for garlic?”
“I guess you could say that.” Cedric took a sip of his coffee, feeling much more confident about things. “What’s the world record for the longest kiss?”
Ellie hesitated and bit her lower lip. Why the hell did she have to do that? Now he was looking at her mouth again.
“Are you making up this question?”
Cedric chuckled. “It’s a fact. I think I read it on the Chapstick website.”
“And you don’t think they said that to promote kissing and sell more Chapstick?”
Cedric shrugged. “I’d like to give them the benefit of the doubt.”
Ellie smiled. “I admit I don’t know this one, so I’m going to guess.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“Three hours?”
“Seriously? Three hours is nothing.”
“Nothing? You’ve kissed someone for three hours?”
Cedric nodded. “Sally Farnsworth … eighth grade.”
Ellie laughed. “We would have some seriously chapped lips after three hours of kissing.”
“I’m not sure. Let’s find out.” Cedric pretended to get up and startled Ellie.
“Sit down. We are not going to kiss.”
Cedric laughed. “Today.”
“Today what?”
“We are not going to kiss today.”
Cedric was pretty sure he saw her trying to hold back a smile.
“Look,” said Ellie. “Are you going to tell me the answer or not?”
“Fifty-eight hours.”
“What? Impossible.”
“No it’s not.”
“A fifty-eight hour kiss?”
“Yes.”
Ellie was deep in thought. “God. How would you go to the bathroom?”
“Very carefully.”
They both laughed and then her smile zapped him again. Good and strong. He tried to fight it, but for the moment couldn’t. He’d been with Ellie for only ten minutes, but it seemed like they already knew each other. It felt so easy. So effortless. And her smile...
Wow.
Her smile was like a triple karate kick to the chest. And when she flashed those pearly-whites, she went from attractive to breathtakingly gorgeous in a fraction of a second.
He wondered what it would be like to touch her cheek, to kiss her, to hold her hand. He felt the urge. She crossed her legs and her summer dress slid up her thighs.
Is there a Nobel Prize for legs?
Cedric heard a door slamming and realized it was his mind, trying to get his attention.
Relationships equal pain.
This was not a date. Just coffee.
He sat up in his seat again, pretended to pick something off his shirt, and then looked over at Ellie. He pictured her head as a rotten apple, just to cool himself down. He was panicking and hoped Ellie wasn’t paying too much attention. But who was he kidding? She was a woman and the species noticed everything.
“You’re sweating. You okay?”
Of course she noticed.
Cedric wiped his forehead. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Ellie studied Cedric’s body language—crossing one leg over the other, then switching back. The guy was obviously nervous about something. Still, she couldn’t help but admire the polo shirt that stretched across his chest and showed off his broad shoulders and toned arms. He definitely took care of himself, but wasn’t one of those guys who looked like he needed to show it off. His hair was black and wavy, long enough to show some style, but not too spiky and gelled to look like he tried so hard. His green eyes seemed nice, inviting, and down to earth.
Cedric had a lot of potential—much more potential than any of her handpicked dates from the website. She liked him so much, she totally forgot about her list. She hoped he didn’t live with his mom, had a job, and was void of back hair.
She perked up in her seat, now curious about Cedric’s back.
“Nice shirt.” She reached over and grabbed the material on his sleeve, pretending to feel it.
“Thanks,” said Cedric, looking suspicious.
“It feels like the same material as one of my dresses. Do you know what it’s made of?”
Cedric raised an eyebrow. “Not sure. You want to check the tag? I guess that’s better than me taking off my shirt in the middle of Starbucks and handing it to you.”
“Starbucks may have a no-nudity policy, so I can just check the label.”
“Good point.”
She smiled, stood up, and walked behind him, proud of how easy that was. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled it away from his neck. He smelled good, like soap and coffee. She had the sudden urge to plant her lips on his—certainly not for fifty-eight hours, though. A person’s got to eat.
Ellie realized the charade was taking way too long and she stared down his back. Satisfied, she smiled, let go of the collar, inhaled his wonderful scent again, and returned to her seat.
“Fifty-fifty,” said Ellie. “Polyester … and cotton.”
“Good to know,” he said.
“So, what do you do for a living?” asked Ellie, trying to change the subject again.
“I’m a farmer.”
“Like a farmer farmer?”
Cedric laughed. “Yes. Red barn and all.”
“You don’t look like a farmer.”
“Well, I admit that I don’t do any of the labor.”
“Don’t tell me … garlic?”
Cedric nodded. “And cherries.”
“Garlic and cherries. Now that’s an odd combination.”
“Initially, it was just garlic, had been that way for three generations in the family. But then the neighbor next door was selling his land, and it happened to come with fifteen hundred cherry trees.”
“That’s a fascinating field. What was your major in college?” She cradled her coffee as if it was keeping her hands warm.
“I didn’t go to college. My grandfather owned the business and the farm in Gilroy, then I took it over.”
“And your father?”
“He hasn’t been in the picture for a while.”
“Oh.” Ellie tried to think of something else to say since it was obvious he wasn’t going to elaborate on the subject. “I’m very close to my grandfather. Sounds like you are close to yours too.”
“I was.”
“Oh.” No father. No grandfather. Better not ask about his mother. “Sorry.”
Cedric gave a half-smile. “Thanks.”
“Ever been married?”
Cedric shifted in his seat. “Almost, but …” He shrugged.
Not very positive.
“Well, at least you’re getting yourself back out there and dating.”
Cedric crossed one leg over the other again. “I don’t date. I’ve just been focused on the business.”
What did he mean he didn’t date? What the heck were they doing in Starbucks? It wasn’t considered a date?
“Of course, of course,” she said, completely confused. “How come you don’t date?”
“Anybody ever tell you that you ask a lot of questions?”
“Yes. I mean
… no. Well, sometimes my mouth rambles. Especially when I’m nervous.”
Cedric tilted his head to the side. “Why would you be nervous? We’re just having coffee.”
“Just having …” She shrugged. “It’s just that—I don’t know. Have you ever tried online dating?”
God, she couldn’t believe she just asked that.
“I don’t believe in online dating.” Cedric stood up. “I’m so sorry. I … just remembered that I have to meet with a customer. God, I can’t believe I forgot.”
“Oh …”
“I’ll walk you back to the library.”
She slowly got up. “Okay.”
They walked back to the library in silence as Ellie tried to figure out what had happened. They approached the front of the building and the electric door slid open.
Ellie forced a smile. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome. Well … I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Okay, see you around.”
Whatever that meant.
Chapter Seven
Cedric walked away from what was perhaps the most beautiful woman in the world—and maybe the smartest too. At least his day couldn’t get any worse.
Or so he thought.
Cedric watched in the distance as a motorcycle cop placed a ticket on his windshield.
He couldn’t even begin to imagine what the ticket could have been for. There was no meter there, he was parked straight, and his registration was up to date.
The cop slid his helmet over his head, strapped the buckle under his chin, swung a leg over his motorcycle, and straddled the bike.
“What’s the ticket for?” asked Cedric, approaching him.
“Why don’t you read it?” He slipped on his leather gloves.
Nice guy. His voice sounded familiar. He looked down at the badge on his chest.
V. Cunnings. Cedric grabbed the ticket from the windshield and searched for the infraction.
“What?” He walked to the back of his car and saw for himself the broken taillight. “That wasn’t broken when I got here, I’m sure of it.” He glanced down to the ground at the plastic pieces from the taillight and pointed to them. “Someone just did this.”
“Do you have a witness?”
“Of course I don’t have a witness. I just walked up. You saw me.”
