by J. M. Maurer
I shake my head with a grin.
“Don’t tell me that bag’s full of selfie sticks.”
“Guess you better start looking for that unemployment number,” I tease with a smile. “Come on. I’m not a troublemaker. I’ll tell you more over some tasty hot cocoa.”
“Chocolate. Tasty. Overnight bags.” Eli nods. “Sound like some fun trouble I’d like to get in on.”
Heat floods my cheeks as we walk across the snow-filled street. At the café, Eli opens the door and uses his wide grin to usher me in. We find a booth by a stone fireplace. Its crackling warmth nicely counterbalances an occasional draft I notice seeping through the window as I check out the place.
Filling the quaint space is an eclectic mixture of wooden tables and chairs. A bar area takes up the back, just in front of what I assume is the entrance to the kitchen. Earth-toned brick walls house flat-screen TVs, and seaside village paintings hang in all the perfect places. Almost feeling like I’m back at home in the masculine mix of sports-casual and Italian coziness, I yank down the zipper of my coat and toss my first piece of arctic-approved clothing into the far corner of the booth. Lifting the hat off my head, I meet Eli’s gaze. He’s already removed his coat, has taken a seat, and is following my every move.
I grin and shake out my auburn locks, knowing no amount of finger-combing will ever get them to lie calm. In an attempt to direct the focus off my hair, I scoot into the booth and nod to my left. “What a charming café.”
Eli scratches the back of his head in a wild, manly way. Then, as if in understanding of something, he slaps his palms against his thighs. “Well that explains… a lot.”
“I know. My hair is a bit unruly.” Like yours. “Being new, I wasn’t expecting any live action. So when Mr. Richardson called, my only option was to cover it up with my hat.”
“Well, next time you might want to rethink the hat. Or at least get one that doesn’t sport the initials from a college in Oklahoma. You should know we take our sports seriously here in Ohio. Me included.”
I stick out my bottom lip, pretending to be saddened by his lack of Sooner pride. Actually, Eli, you would love it back home in Oklahoma.
“But if you’re that attached to it,” he continues, “I’m sure we could turn it around and make it work.” He winks and my heart skips a beat. “So, I take it you graduated from the University of Oklahoma?”
I nod through a smile. “I actually thought I’d get away with it since Ohio State’s emblem looks similar.”
“Similar,” Eli says in a disbelieving, high voice.
“They’re both red. They both have an O,” I offer, then watch as Eli shakes his head. I’m obviously wrong and probably should have done a bit more research, not that I did any in the first place. I was much too eager to start a new life, so when the opportunity came along, I didn’t think the whole moving thing through and in the process left most of my possessions back home in Oklahoma. “Well,” I pause, not sure I want to tell him the truth, and go with, “it’s the only hat I’ve got.”
Eli’s eyes widen at almost the same time a pretty brunette strolls toward our table. The timing of her arrival makes me uncertain if his expression was meant for me or for her.
He lifts an open hand in a gesture to hold her at bay. “Hot chocolate, for now. Thanks, Stace.”
She waves in understanding and promptly turns around. According to the nametag fastened to the forest-green blouse that’s tied into an insta-chic knot at her hip, her name is Stacie, not Stace. I turn back to Eli, my thoughts going all over the place with how well he knows this Stace.
“So Oklahoma to Ohio. Tell me, Miss Photogenic, have you been chasing down thundersnow all your life or did you just find it impossible to pass up an adventure at the North Coast?”
Warmth floods my skin, hearing him refer to me the way he has. Normally I would have hopped on the opportunity to discuss the weather, but the sincerity behind his compliment takes center stage and makes me temporarily forget about Stacie.
I turn away to hide the red I’m certain is coloring my cheeks and snatch two menus from the window ledge. I’ve heard people refer to Cleveland as the North Coast, but I haven’t yet looked up that bit of info either. Making a mental note to learn more about the city, I slide a menu across the table to Eli.
My mind back on his earlier question, I contemplate how much of my past I should let him in on. “Well.” I clench my hands in my lap and look up from my menu. “I relocated here with my boyfriend who scored more than just a job with the Cavaliers. I wasn’t as lucky with my job search, and to make a long story short, he moved on and threw me away like a garbage can in a wind tunnel, and I haven’t heard from him since.”
Is that what you wanted to know?
“He sounds lovely.”
Eli’s sarcasm makes me laugh.
“Seriously, how’d you end up with such a perfect guy like that?”
Despite his straight face, I know Eli is joking, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking about just how not perfect Caleb was. Perfect would have understood my frustration when I couldn’t find a paying job. Perfect would have stood by me while I kept searching, day in and day out. Perfect wouldn’t have screwed the entire cheerleading squad. Pffft. Caleb was far from perfect.
“It was my lucky day.” I shrug it off. “Truthfully, I broke my leg playing soccer as a Sooner. Mr. Imperfect was the athletic trainer on-call who came and took care of me.”
“Well, no more worries. When I tell you to go break a leg before your next live shot, I’ll make sure I’m the only cameraman on-call.”
Heat fills my cheeks again, but instead of turning away, this time I watch as Eli rubs at the stubble on his chin.
He takes a long moment to scan my auburn locks. “After your performance tonight, I have a feeling we’re going to be working together, a lot.” He seems pleased. “Which one?”
I tilt my head, confused. “Which one?”
“Which leg? I’m planning ahead, Red. All signs point to some beautiful disasters with you. I should probably know which leg you broke, so I can tell the need-to-knows your medical history the instant we hit the ER.”
I narrow my eyes, then let out a sigh as I decide to move past hearing the nickname I more than dislike. More pressing is the other thing Eli mentioned. Is it the two times I went against his advice and took off that led him to make such a comment? Or is he putting two and two together, splicing a common misconception that redheads are bold and mischievous? If so, he’s labeled me wrong. I shake my head and set to reassure him that I’m not the ringleader of trouble.
“I’m honestly just an athletically geeky redhead. But since you asked, I broke both bones in my right lower leg. However, it’s not necessary that you know that because I have no intentions of getting us into trouble. Trust me,” I say as Stacie places cups of hot chocolate and glasses of water on the table.
She slides a bowl with some powdered butterball cookies off to the side. “Hey, are you the new girl on channel eleven… Makayla Reading?”
I smile, and silently praise her for correctly pronouncing my name. “Yup, that’s me.”
“We enjoyed watching you tonight. But if you don’t mind a little advice, next time, ditch the hat.”
Eli laughs so hard his body moves up and down like an unwatched toddler releasing a week’s worth of pent-up energy while strapped to a bouncy seat.
I thank Stacie for the advice while Eli rubs his eyes and works to calm himself down. “I’ll see what I can do,” I offer before giving her my order.
She turns to Eli and tells him she’ll bring his usual since he’s still shaking out the last bit of laughter and can’t seem to speak.
As Stacie goes to place our orders, I flick my gaze up to Eli and unravel my napkin across my lap. I’m not sure what his “usual” is, but given his stocky build, I have a hunch he likes food. Country food, if I have to make a guess. Like the kind my mom makes back home. Yeah, he looks like a spicy sausage, biscuits, and g
ravy kind of manly man.
The notion both warms my soul and makes me homesick. It’s been several months since I’ve been home.
“Have you ever been to Oklahoma?” I ask, missing my family something fierce.
Eli sits up tall and locks his gaze on mine, but his thoughts seem to be taking him hundreds of miles off. Watching him, I give him the moment he seems to need, as the romantic side of me begins to wonder if he might be thinking about a visit to Oklahoma… with me. But since we just met, the likelihood of him entertaining such an idea is nil to none. And do guys’ brains even conjure up romantic visions like that? Probably not.
A soft chuckle escapes me as I realize the ridiculousness of my thought. Eli must have heard my minor outburst because he starts running his hands up and down his thighs. Then, like nothing has even happened, he draws in a slow breath and returns to our conversation.
“No.” He leans his broad shoulders back against the booth, diverts his gaze to the table, and takes no time deciding between the cup of hot chocolate and the glass of ice water Stacie had set off to the side. Three chugs later and the cold liquid is gone.
Watching Eli swallow is about the sexiest sight I’ve seen. That is until he returns the glass to the table and moistens his lips with his tongue.
“I’ve not been to Oklahoma,” he says, returning his gaze to mine. “But I’ll admit that your question has me stoked about how cool a trip out west could be. Did growing up in Oklahoma spur your love for the weather? I mean, I assume you love your job. You seem to really enjoy it.”
I knew it! So maybe he was thinking about Oklahoma. Could he have been thinking about Oklahoma and me?
“I do love meteorology,” I confirm, feeling my lips curl into a smile. “Did Oklahoma play a role? Maybe. I haven’t really given it much thought. It’s just what I always knew I’d do when I grew up. I saw my first tornado when I was three. Well, I saw the destruction that it caused.”
Even as young as I was, I didn’t like what I saw. Debris. Devastation. Death. The ugly side of Mother Nature might have played a role in leading me to a career where I could help warn and protect.
I shrug. “I guess you could say I got sucked in pretty early.” I reach for my hot chocolate. “How about you? Do you have family here? Have you always lived in Cleveland?”
“For the most part Cleveland has always been my home. I live a little east of here in Bratenahl with my brother, Charlie, and two other housemates. Mom lives out in Parma Heights, in my childhood home. She spends most of her time managing a 9-1-1 call center. They’re the only family I have.” He clears his throat, flashing a pensive expression that catches me by surprise.
It’s the kind of deep reflection that makes me wonder what’s up, but before I have a chance to ask him more about his small family, Eli continues with our conversation.
“I’ve never seen a tornado,” he admits, his silky tone smoothing over the hint of sadness I heard in his voice just moments ago. “But I often think about warmer weather, especially during the winter. You ever thought about chasing hurricanes in Miami?”
“The guys on the basketball team or the swirly thing in the sky?” I wink.
“No. Not the guys. Definitely not the guys.”
“Well, with that established, yes. I’ve considered it. I’ve daydreamed about it. Quite frankly,” I lean in and lower my voice to just above a whisper, “I’d jump at an opportunity to move down South. I don’t particularly like Cleveland. Believe it or not, I’m not a fan of this much snow.”
“You don’t like snow?” He seems equal parts saddened and surprised. “Snow is fun. You just need a day to play in it.”
“Oh, Mom and Dad made sure my sister, Celia, and I played in plenty of it back home. Right before a refreshing rain moved in and washed it all away.”
He laughs a throaty sound that immediately turns me on. I squeeze my thighs together, attempting to tame a needy feeling growing at my core.
“So my very own meteorologist doesn’t like snow. Interesting,” he says, earning a grin from me. “So tell me, what else do you like?”
“There are lots of things I enjoy. Snow just isn’t one of them. I like the science behind snow. Mostly, I guess it’s the cold I don’t particularly care for. But I do like museums,” I admit with enthusiasm. “And anything that requires me to dig in and figure something out.”
He studies me for a long moment and rubs his chin again. “I have an idea. Would a murder mystery dinner help you like Cleveland?”
I raise a brow. “Do you promise to write my epitaph when I’m brought up on stage and killed by a fake stab wound to my heart?”
“I’ll even make certain not to call you Red.”
I melt like a snowflake landing on a sandy beach in Cuba.
Turning into a virtual puddle of liquid goo, I’m thankful Eli has finally caught on. I’m not sure when it happened, but I’m super thrilled he understands I’m not fond of the nickname.
“I think that sounds great, and maybe it’ll help me learn to like Cleveland.” I pinch my thumb and index finger close together. “A smidge.”
Eli widens his eyes and pulls out his phone. In an instant, he starts tapping away at the screen. “You’re going to love Cleveland. I’ll get us tickets. But,” he pauses and peers down at his phone, his thumb still scrolling, “looks like we’ll have to wait until…Valentine’s Day.”
Valentine’s Day? That far away? I tilt my head, watching as Eli continues tapping away at the screen. There have to be tickets before then.
After a moment, he presses his thumb against the screen and leaves it there a few seconds. When finished, he lifts his chin with a smile and seeks my gaze. “You okay with that?”
My mind is racing, fast forwarding three months, and counting all the days I’ll have between now and then with him. I shouldn’t be doing it. But what could an evening out with Eli hurt? Too excited to speak, I bite into a smile and nod.
“Good.” He lowers his phone to the table and smiles right back. “It’s a date.”
“A date,” I eagerly repeat as my phone vibrates on the table. Hearing it, I giggle awkwardly. “Seriously? Do you already know my mother?” I ask, half assuming she’s somehow granted him access to my personal calendar, irritation clearly audible in my words.
Eli doesn’t answer as confusion drapes over his face.
He furrows his brows and casts his sight down as an incoming text lights up his screen. “Bad news,” he says, then levels his sight with mine. “Apparently with all the snow, we’re needed back at the station. You should check your phone. I’m pretty sure that was Ed trying to find you.”
Bad news? This isn’t bad news, I think to myself, forgetting all about Ed. My first six months in Cleveland were bad news. This is good. After all, I have a new friend. And a date. With Mr. Off-Limits—Eli Barringer.
I don’t mind Greta. But apparently, Greta is one thing Eli doesn’t like about Cleveland.
He has voiced several reasons a woman like me should never stand alone at a bus stop, especially in the wee hours, waiting for Greta. In many ways I guess I can’t argue. But after being snowed in and stuck at work the entire weekend, the instant it was safe to hit the streets in a vehicle, I was ready to go back to my apartment.
Other than coming together for a few live shot appearances to capture snippets of the storm outside the building, the behind-the-scenes part of our jobs kept us apart most of the weekend. Even so, Eli was never far from my mind. And when he popped over to my desk and offered to drive me home, I kindly accepted. With his actions being that of a man who seemed rather gentlemanly and extra cautious, I also didn’t object when he insisted on escorting me into my building and then up to my apartment.
“Why do you call it Greta?” he asks as I turn the key to unlock my door.
With a little thought, Eli could have deduced that I left out the “C” from Greater Cleveland Regional Transit Authority to form Greta. But what he wouldn’t know, unless I told him, was th
at during the long summer I spent alone, taking the transit system to interviews all over town, Greta became my only friend in all of Cleveland.
I shrug. “You don’t like the name?”
He studies my face for a moment, the softness in his eyes and slight upward curl of his lips charming me. “I don’t like having to say goodbye to you,” he says, his tone as sincere as I’ve ever heard him speak.
We stand at my door, my keys still dangling from the knob, our eyes locked in on nothing but each other. It’s as if neither of us is ready to call it a night. I’m certainly not ready. And the look in Eli’s eyes tells me he feels the same.
Not knowing what to say, I surprise him with a hug and let the moment I hold him in my arms speak the words I can’t find. He wraps me up in his arms. And with a gentleness that feels incredibly good, he presses his lips to the side of my head. Eventually, he breaks the silence, his warm breath caressing my ear.
“I’m sure it’s way past your bedtime.” He moves his hands to the sides of my arms, pinning his sweet gaze on mine. “It’s been a long weekend. I should get going.”
“It has been a long weekend. Thanks for being there for me. You should know that for my first time on live TV, I’m glad it was with you.”
“Me too.” He runs his hands down my arms, his eyes searching mine. After a moment, he releases his hold, the loss of contact leaving me cold and wanting. “Sweet dreams, Makayla.”
“Sweet dreams back at you. Oh, and thanks for taking me to the café,” I say as Eli turns to walk away. “I had a lot of fun.”
He peers at me over his shoulder. “Told you I’d get you to like Cleveland.”
I shake my head with a grin. “I didn’t say anything about Cleveland.”
“Whatever. You had fun in Cleveland.”
“And you’re right, I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Walking backward, Eli presses his palms over his heart. “Just wait till I really get you to like Cleveland.”
I wave goodnight, then shiver through a chill, watching as Eli turns around and continues down the hallway. Giving myself a hug for comfort and warmth, I wonder how I refrained from inviting him in to stay.