16. Arielle

sixteen

Arielle

The next morning, I’m still in a haze of overflowing emotions from my date with Stallone, but I make it to the coffee shop right on time. While flipping the closed sign to open, a royal-blue streak running down the sidewalk catches my attention.

Christian.

In a blue warm-up suit, like the kind that was popular in the eighties.

Not his best look.

Pushing the door open a crack, I call out, “Hey, the eighties called. They want their clothes back.”

“Funny.” He gives me a pointed look and continues to stride forward.

“I told you I don’t need a babysitter.” My lips curl against my will, because even though he’s here to take me home, it’s still good to see him.

His knees rise to a ridiculously high angle as he marches forward until he grabs the door from my hand, pushing his way inside. “I’m not here to babysit you. I did a bunch of phone interviews for the manager’s job. One of them is coming in for a second interview in person today. I think he’s going to work out perfectly.”

Christian’s gangly legs cross over the threshold before I do, and he scans the place. “Graham never came back to work?”

“He’s been coming in for an hour or two in the late mornings to check on things. He says he won’t be returning full time until next week.”

Continuing to make his way back to the coffee bar, Christian’s gaze freezes on my roses, still soaking in the coffeepot. “What’s going on with this decorating monstrosity?”

I quicken my steps and slide in front of the vase, hiding them from his view. “It’s not decorating. They were a gift, and I didn’t have a vase.”

“Oh, no!” He sidesteps, reaching his hand around me, trying to get to the vase, but I push him back with my palm while he rants, “That dirty rotten Tom is not going to have his cursed flowers in my shop—”

“They are not from Tom!” I use both hands to hold him back. “I met someone.”

His body goes stiff, no longer pushing forward while his gaze slides to me, a suspicious gleam sparkling out of the corner of his eye. “Tell me he’s not a giant loser.”

“He’s not a loser at all.” My brows furrow together, and anger bubbles in my gut. I hate Christian treats me like I don’t know how to make my own decisions. “He’s a perfect gentleman, and you met him already.”

“I met him?” he echoes, his hands planting on his hips. “Who are you even talking about?”

“You saw him here. That man who came in with the flannel shirt and beard.”

Christian’s jaw dramatically flops down. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

My cheeks are hot, but I don’t back down. “We got to talking, and he asked me out on a date, and we really enjoy being around each other.”

“El! How can I ever trust you?” His eyes roll to the ceiling before they slam back at me. “I leave you alone for a few days, thinking nothing could possibly go wrong, but you somehow manage to start dating an ogre.”

“An ogre?” My head jolts back as I’m offended for Stallone. “That’s awfully mean and shallow of you.”

“Why?” Christian’s eyes bug out of his head. “You just got out of a horrendous relationship. Why would you do this?” He gestures forward, demanding I speak, but then adds, “Oh, wait, is that what this is? A rebound thing? Something to even the score with Tom?”

“No.” I struggle to put into words what happened these last few days. “This has nothing to do with Tom. I know it sounds weird, but Stallone and I have made a connection, and it feels like I’ve known him my whole life.”

“Stallone?” Christian snarls his lip and acts like he’s going to vomit by dropping his jaw. “Is that even his real name?”

“Stop.” My voice is quieter than usual, as I don’t have it in me to argue with Christian over a guy he’s never even spoken to. The front door swings open, and Graham shuffles through with two sacks in front of him. I’m grateful for the interruption, planting my attention on him. “Did you find a good sale?”

“Diapers,” he huffs and heaves the sacks onto the bookstore checkout counter. “And a bag of cabbage. Apparently, that helps with nursing ‘issues.’” He makes finger quotes while shaking his head, and then drops his hands to rifle through some papers on his desk, pulling out an invoice on the bottom. He advances toward his computer and clicks the mouse to turn it on, while adding, “I need to double-check something that was bothering me.”

“How’s the baby?” I ask, already feeling the stress wafting off him.

“He’s really great.” Graham’s gaze stays fixed on his computer; a smile never leaves his face. “He’s healthy, and I feel blessed everything has gone well. How are things here?”

“Great.” I nod, even though he’s not looking at me. Christian cuts me off before I can expound.

“Interesting.” He parks his hand on his hip again as that seems to be his new favorite place to rest it. “It’s been really interesting. I was back in New York for a few days, and El here has started dating someone. Do you know anything about some stupidly named Stallone guy?”

“Christian,” I scold, but they both ignore me, as Graham is also happy to gossip in front of me.

“Stallone Hart from Hart Logging?” Graham’s gaze cuts to meet mine.

“Sure.” Christian locks on Graham with his impatient glare. “We will go with that. Who is he?”

My face burns, and I feel like a small child whose parents need to discuss my inappropriate behavior in front of them.

Only I did nothing wrong.

Graham’s slow shrug draws out the suspense, while Christian and I both stare at him, waiting. “Stallone’s been a regular here for as long as I’ve been here. Not much of a talker. I’ve always seen him as a loner. I’m surprised he went out with you. How’d you get him to do that?”

“He asked me.” I stare forward, feeling like that should be obvious.

“Interesting.” Graham stuffs his invoice back into a file drawer and returns his gaze with a thoughtful expression. “You do know he’s super rich, right?”

“Not really.” I’m definitely not going to admit to Christian right now that I’ve been to his mansion. He’d come unglued.

“Yeah, he’s made a fortune with his wood business. Course, it was his dad’s before his, and if I remember the rumors I’ve heard correctly, it might have actually even been his granddad’s company first. He seems like a good guy,” Graham says with thoughtful inflections. “I’m just surprised he asked you out, because he seemed to be over dating after his last breakup . . .” Graham’s voice trails off while he opens another file drawer and runs his hands over the top of it looking for something. When he finds what he wants, he grabs it and closes the drawer.

Christian doesn’t wait for us to have privacy. His gaze slams back to me and he lets out a noisy huff. “Seriously, El, please tell me this is all a joke about this guy.”

“You don’t want me to be happy?” I’m not even trying to argue. It’s absurd he thinks he gets an opinion about this. I went on two dates with the guy. That’s it. It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we eloped. A naughty chuckle bubbles in my gut as I visualize how fun it would be to tease Christian that Stallone and I eloped.

“Of course you’re not happy.” He gestures forward wildly. “You just went through a horrific breakup. This is just a distraction.” He squares his stance, his face transforms into a stoic expression. “Trust me, El. What you need is to come back with me and spend some time healing and don’t go on any dates for at least a month, or two.”

I try to set my mind on Tom, but it won’t stay there. I can’t even think about him if I want to. This has nothing to do with Tom or what I recently went through. I don’t know how to convince Christian of that.

My nervous gaze pulls to Graham. He’s more thoughtful as he overhears our conversation, but he doesn’t back away when he catches me looking at him. “What do you think?” The question is out of my mouth before I can second-guess allowing an almost-stranger into my personal life.

His brows raise as he hangs onto my gaze, and he asks, “About Stallone?”

“Maybe it’s about him,” I bumble around for words, “but it’s also about me and what I want. I don’t want to go back to Boston. I like it here, and yes, okay…” My voice rises as I circle back to my earlier thought. It appears my thoughts are growing less cloudy by the second. “Maybe, by doing what I want, I can say it’s about Stallone. So, what if I want to get to know him more? That doesn’t make me a bad person.”

“Whoa, I never said it did.” His kind chuckle erases some of the tension. “I just wanted to make sure I knew what we were talking about.” He lowers his gaze to his papers, moving them into a straight pile. His voice is firm when he asks, “Do you think you could love him?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don’t say that!” Christian butts in, physically inserting himself between us with his eyes glued to me. “You don’t have to answer that. That’s a dumb question.” He flashes a look of annoyance at Graham. “Of course she doesn’t love him. They just met.”

“I didn’t ask if she loved him. I asked if she could . There’s a clear difference.” Graham crosses his arms against his chest, seeming to stand even taller. “I met my wife when I was in high school. We didn’t find a way to be together for many years, but in our years apart, I always knew I could love her if I was given the chance. I knew it from the first time I saw her.”

“You’re not helping,” Christian mumbles, turning his back to Graham. When he looks at me, my chin quivers. I know exactly what Graham is saying. I’m not that inexperienced to say it’s love, but every part of my heart twists when I think of him. I am certain if I gave it a chance, I could love him. “El,” Christian’s coax is softer this time, as his gaze paces my face which I know is not hiding my emotions. When I say nothing, he repeats softer, “El.”

I step forward, sharing all my vulnerabilities with him and whisper, “I think I can.”

His eyes take an arc roll before he grunts, “So, what are you telling me? You want me to leave you here?”

I shrug, completely unsure what the days before me will offer, but I know I must try. “I’m saying I want to stay for a while. I actually think I'd enjoy being a barista. It has to be better than working for dad. You don’t have to hire anyone. At least not now. It works out that I can stay here and see what this thing is.”

“You’re for real about this?” he says, voice oddly quieter, and it’s evident this is finally sinking in for him.

“I am.”

“Okay, then.” He shakes his head, backing away. “I’ll finish this week’s order, but then I’ll leave the rest up to you.” The thing with Christian is, he’s always been dramatic, but something happened when he met Portia. He gained a sense of urgency where when they are not together, he just seems edgy. I know the impatience he shows me is because he really is in a hurry to tie up his ends here to get home to her. It was never his plan to leave me here, and it is unsettling to him.

What he doesn’t know is, the same urgency he always has to return to Portia is one that now pounds in my chest. As I sit here at the coffee shop with a full day before me, all I can think about is getting off work so I can see Stallone.

That’s not love.

But it’s something.

And I can’t wait to see what it turns out to be.