Page 26 of Almost Perfect
Seemed odd to tell her it was a date, even if she wouldn’t care.
Minutes later, I pulled into a lot and parked the truck. After ascertaining she didn’t need directions to get anywhere, I took off, doing my best not to glance back at her. I had an errand or two to run in the time before I met Sarah.
And Calla would be fine on her own. I’d see her in a few hours, and hopefully, I’d have a second date with Sarah lined up.
ELEVEN
Calla
I’d never had a library card as an adult. I had a membership to one in California so I could access e-books, and that kept me in business. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with paperbacks, nor did I ever have space for them, so e-books just made sense. Or, honestly, I just bought what I wanted, because what was the point of having wealth if you couldn’t buy books with it?
But today was a day where I imagined being a local and wandering into the little building across the street from where I stood and just browsing for hours before checking out a few books and smuggling them home to devour. It was the same library I’d frequented weekly, and sometimes more often, as a kid. Same building. Probably the same librarian. Candy would use the computers and I’d sit in the kids’ corner on one of the giant bean bags.
I’d forgotten about that—how I’d sit there until the backs of my legs were pasted to the odd material of the bags and I’d have to peel myself out of them. The memory urged me toward the building, but I turned in the other direction. Maybe I was more sentimental than I realized, and going in there would be a kind of reunion with the past.
Maybe I was a romantic at heart.
I chuckled silently to myself.Yeah, no.Maybe when it came to the reading experience, but it ended there.
I’d need lunch, but not yet. I wanted to savor access to civilization, so I wandered onto Main Street. Restaurants, a bar, a few stores… first stop, coffee. I could grab a decaf, sip it slowly, browse the stores, then justifiably head to lunch and I wouldn’t be full.
I opened the wooden door, and a bell jingled overhead. Inside, bright yellow walls gave the place an unbelievably cheery vibe I loved immediately. But it was the smell that clinched it—not just the delectable coffee aroma. Better than that—the scent of warm, fresh bread permeated the air.
I moved through the small space, past a table of boisterous older men, many of whom wore veteran hats marking them as World War II and Vietnam vets, and one or two who seemed about my age. A few made eye contact and nodded, but no one broke from the conversation.
“Hey, what can I get for ya?” A tall redheaded man who looked like he might be early twenties smiled warmly from behind the counter. A little name tag pinned to his shirt identified him as Garrett. Behind him, baskets hung on the wall and held various kinds of bread loaves and rolls.
A huge espresso machine, panini press, and a few other things filled the space behind him, and in the glass case next to the register, an alluring selection of pastries and parfaits waited. But I couldn’t indulge in something that filling and still be ready to devour my meal later.
“I’ll have a decaf drip coffee and… a slice of the day.”
He nodded. “Great choice. Today’s bread is cinnamon swirl, and we’re sold out of full loaves. I think Sadie’s going to have to double the amount next time she does this one.”
I swiped my card while he turned around and clanked a pot of coffee, dumping steaming hot liquid into a bright blue mug. He set it on one end of an oval plate, and on the other, he placed a slice of light brown bread with a spiral of deep brown cinnamon starting at its center and circling out to one edge. It looked like heaven.
“Thank you,” I said, almost breathless with anticipation for tasting this bread that had now become my sole focus. I sat at a table near the window so I could eventually people-watch. After pulling off my knit cap and placing my jacket on the back of the chair, I slumped into the seat and shoved the slice into my mouth.
I may have groaned. Loudly. Just as Warrick Saint walked through the door.
“Oh, I’ll have what she’s having!” he said, a goofy smile on his handsome face.
Chuckling, I gave him a small wave as I finished chewing. “I recommend it.”
His smile widened, though I wouldn’t have thought it possible. He sidled up to the counter and placed an order, then mumbled something else I didn’t quite hear. I busied myself with another bite of bread and a sip of coffee—also delicious, even if it paled in comparison to the glory of the cinnamon swirl bread.
Warrick grabbed his order, and I waved him over before he needed to ask. He was one of three people I knew in town if I didn’t count adorable Jake, my driver from a few days ago, not to be mistaken for Jarrod, the car service driver, and I was tired of my own company. Plus Warrick was a genuinely nice, happy person and I’d been around people like him so rarely, I figured, why not? He reminded me of Jenna, which might’ve explained my immediate sense of comfort when being around him.
He dropped into the chair across from me and set down a bright mug on a saucer. No bread.
“You’re missing the best part.”
“Oh, I know. But I come here pretty much every day at one point or another, and I’m also opening a personal training program next month. I can’t exactly get soft just before I launch and expect people to take me seriously.” He held up his mug in acheersgesture, then took a sip.
“I hear you. I’ve been ignoring the fact that at some point, I’ll have to dress the part again.”
Miss Mayhem’s wardrobe was, to put it mildly, daring. Low-cut tops, cut-out midriffs, and short, short, short skirts. I’d managed to pull back on some of that in the last few years because I was established enough to have some measure of a voice, but in the end, it was all still demanding. It required a careful diet, an active lifestyle, and it didn’t hurt that I had evidently pretty forgiving genes. I would never pretend it was all based on my hard work, but I also did work hard.
But lately, I didn’t want to. I just wanted to sit and eat an amazing piece of bread and not feel bad about it, and here I sat, living the dream.
