Crave

by Tessa Vidal

  Standing in line I noticed a lone empty booth in the back. I was hoping the people in front of me were getting their coffee to go when I felt a light touch on the small of my back. I snapped my head around and scowled. It was Greta, an employee who worked at the restaurant down the street.

  “Greta, I’m sorry. I was deep in thought and you startled me. Good morning.” I grinned, hoping I hadn’t offended her.

  “Good morning Simona, I’m surprised to see you here. You’re always working.” She dipped her head down as she spoke, looking up at the same time. Greta was a looker, but she was also an excellent employee. Totally off limits, and I wanted me-time today.

  “Ah, Greta, even I get a day off every once in a while.” I murmured.

  Keep it short, don’t allow her more time than necessary.

  “I needed my caffeine fix, and when I saw you come in, I wanted to say hello. I have a table on the patio. Do you want to join me?” She lifted her chest, looked me dead in the eye, and smiled. I bit my lower lip, amazed at her brazenness.

  You’re barking up the wrong tree. I have no type, no interest in you or anyone else for that matter. On the rare occasion I have my physical needs met, it’s not with anyone I know, much less work with.

  “Well, unfortunately I have errands to run, so I’m getting mine to go. Thanks for asking.” I was now in front of the barista who waited for my order. I had really wanted to stay, but if I did, it would be rude if I didn’t join her.

  “Oh, well, um, some other time I guess. See you later, Simona.” Greta surprised me with a hug, a bit longer than was appropriate. Watching her walk away, it struck me that maybe I should have joined her. I shook the thought out of my head and ordered my usual black coffee and left. Greta waved as I walked by. I smiled, escaping before someone else could stop me.

  Though excited to get to the bookstore, I still had another hour before they opened. I walked up Clark Avenue and turned right into the residential neighborhood adjacent to the shopping center. I loved the architecture of the old buildings, all recently renovated to attract the young, upwardly mobile power couples who were taking over the city. The park was close by and I could drink my coffee in peace.

  Sitting on a park bench next to the pond, I watched while the men who owned the paddle boats started their day. Angry geese chased them, provoking laughter from me and the few other observers. Pigeons walked by in vain, hoping I had food for them, then made their way to the next bench a few yards away. They made their rounds, trying to make a living the way city birds did.

  Everything boiled down to the survival of the fittest. I learned that years ago on the streets. Whoever hustled the most and kept their eyes on the prize would survive. People who expected things to just happen, for success to be a given, were in for a rude awakening. It was hard, focused labor that ensured success, not luck. Twenty restaurants in twenty years was possible because I sacrificed everything in order to achieve it.

  Was it lonely sometimes? Of course, but that was the price you paid. Survival was key, at the forefront of my thoughts at all times. Anything, or anyone who could hold me back was shoved aside. All too often I’d seen dreams derailed because of a lack of focus. Drugs, booze, affairs of the heart, all had the potential to wreak havoc on being the successful business woman I was today.

  If anyone had told me twenty years ago, I’d be in the position I was in now, I would have laughed in their face. The most I ever hoped for was a food truck of my own, a small diner if I was lucky. But luck had nothing to do with it. Seizing the moment, taking advantage of opportunities, and working your ass off, were how you won.

  My cell phone vibrated in my coat pocket. I was greeted by a text message from my accountant. I ignored it, but noticed the time. Bartholomew’s bookstore was now open. Books were the one thing I indulged in that got me out of myself without the possibility of a hangover or divorce. The perfect escape.

  I got to my feet, pigeons scattering in all directions. A block later I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, a disconcerting thought jolting me.

  What am I escaping from?

  Amber

  “Mr. Werther, this is a first edition Gore Vidal, The City and the Pillar. Oh, and it’s signed by the author and in superb condition. Do you want me to hold it for you?” I asked over the phone while Christy refilled my coffee. She spilled a little, and I jerked in response. I was about to shoo her away, but a huge grin spread across her face. It was the first smile I had seen from her since Kathryn gave us the bad news.

  “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t get that. It’s 50% off. Okay. Well, call me back if you change your mind. Have a good day.” I hung up, wondering what the hell had gotten into Christy. She was bouncing up and down.

  “You need to come out front right now.” She winked.

  “Why?”

  “Because a tall, dark-haired Goddess just walked in, and she’s worth ogling.” Christy practically ran out of the stockroom door, before stopping to regain her composure. She turned back and faced me.

  “Come on, seriously, you don’t want to miss this.” She licked her lips and walked out to the sales floor. Normally we didn’t gawk at the customers. She was happily married, and me, well, I just wasn’t the type of girl who ever got lucky. I always thought, why bother? She must have been something special to impress her this much. I got up from the desk and followed, curiosity getting the best of me.

  I peeked out the door and saw no one. We’d only opened a few minutes ago, and the shop appeared empty.

  I stared at Christy, who was standing midway up the aisle. Was she polishing a book?

  What the hell? I raised my eyebrows. She discreetly dipped her head in the direction of the rare books room, grinned and winked.

  I strolled up the aisle and tripped over my feet, almost knocking her over. The blood rushed to my face, hoping whoever the customer was didn’t notice. Christy giggled, then not so subtly pointed. I gently slapped her index finger down, then ventured a glance into the room.

  A very tall woman with short, wavy black hair had her back to us while turning a book over in her hands. Thankfully, she didn’t see us make stupid fools of ourselves. I shrugged my shoulders at Christy, prepared to walk back to the stockroom and start emailing and calling customers again. Then she turned around.

  Both Christy and I stood there, mouths open as the woman faced us. Blood rushed to my face, embarrassed for being caught gawking. The woman’s face broke into a huge grin. Her perfect white teeth were like headlights in the dark shop.

  “Are you Amber? I got an email from you earlier, telling me about a going out of business sale.”

  My heart galloped, then slowed down as I forced my lips to move. I tentatively raised my left hand in a half-wave.

  “That would be me. I’m Amber. I, um, sent the emails.” Shit, I sounded like an idiot. Pull yourself together. She was a raven haired beauty queen and I was an out of shape nerd she’d never look twice at.

  She sauntered over, holding out her hand.

  “I’m Simona Hernandez. I’ve bought a lot from you over the years, though I don’t often get to come here myself. It’s nice to meet you.” She said, an amused smile gracing her face. I shook her hand, nervous about my sweaty palms. I snuck a glance at Christy who was still polishing the book, her mouth wide open. I elbowed her.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Christy. I work here too.” She said, then she dropped the book on the shelf next to her and shook her hand. Her neck was flushed, her makeup diffusing the redness of her face. At least she had the decency to be embarrassed. The two of us were being very unprofessional. I cleared my throat, then spoke.

  “It’s nice to meet you. You’re one of our best customers, and we’re glad to be offering you some great deals on our inventory.” Wouldn’t you know it, she was the most stunning woman to set foot in the store and now we were closing?

  “Please, call me Simona. Books are my escape, always have been. When I discovered rare and collectible books, it was like
an entire world opened up that I hadn’t known existed.” She leaned against the wall behind her. I fully expected the building to shift as she settled against it. Only a Goddess could do that.

  Pull yourself together Amber.

  “I’ll be back in a moment, I need to get something from the office. Would you like some coffee?” I asked.

  “No, I just came from the coffee shop up the street, but thanks for the offer.” She replied, then turned to examine the books on the shelf next to her.

  I hurried down the aisle, forcing myself not to turn around for another glimpse. When I got to the stockroom, I rifled through the stack of paper on my desk, eager to find the printouts I’d made for our preferred customers. Fuck, where the hell was it? Finally I saw the bright yellow sticky note with her name on it. I ripped it off the stack of stapled paper, then sank in my chair for a moment.

  Be professional. Yes, she’s attractive, but she’s the type of attractive you can only dream about. Just do your job with a little dignity, okay?

  I pushed myself out of my seat and took a deep breath, opened the stockroom door and walked out to find Christy being, well, Christy.

  Simona was leaning against the wall, her eyebrows pulled together with a look of embarrassment. Christy was polishing that damn book again, a blank look on her face while she stared without shame. She apparently thought rubbing the book would distract our customer from her ogling.

  Not working sweetheart.

  “Christy, could you, um, make some more coffee? I forgot to put on another pot while I was in the back.” I asked, hoping to spare Simona her lustful, very obvious gaze.

  “Yeah I, I can do that.” She stumbled to the stockroom, allowing herself one last look. Finally the door closed behind her.

  “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into her. Normally she’s…”

  “Don’t worry about her.” She said. Her full lips turned up once more with that brilliant smile. “So why is the shop closing? It can’t be because of slow sales. It’s always busy when I call, and I know if I’m purchasing a lot here, others must be as well.”

  “Bartholomew passed away, and his widow wants to move on. Too many bad memories, or perhaps I should say good ones. She’s liquidating everything and moving out of town.” I had come to grips with the situation, but only enough not to break down in tears at work. I selfishly wished she would let Christy and I run it. Nothing would change her mind.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that; what a sad ending to such a lovely place.” Then she came to the point of her visit. “So, what’s for sale?”

  My mind blanked for just a second, then I remembered the printouts in my hand. I held them out to her.

  “This is a list of all of your prior purchases. There is also a list of all the rare books we still have in stock. I took the liberty of compiling a list of titles I thought you’d personally be interested in.” My voice was steady now that I could focus on work instead of, well, her.

  She glanced through the reports with interest. It was easy to come up with titles I thought she’d like. She usually bought my personal favorites, typically witty writers like Henry James, Vidal, or Evelyn Waugh.

  “This is amazing, no wonder I’ve spent so much money here. You really know my tastes very well.” Simona laughed, her eyes glued to the sheets of paper.

  “To be honest, it was super easy to come up with since I like the same writers you do. Also, I’ve noticed that as a collector you still purchase books I’m assuming you like to read. Many people stick them on a shelf to increase in value. Am I correct?” I asked, excitement creeping into my voice.

  “You’re right on the money. I mean, I treat my books with the utmost care and respect, but I actually do read and enjoy them.” Her eyes moved up and down the list scanning the titles I’d selected. I loved finding someone who enjoyed reading their books instead of sticking them in an airtight container. Most collectors didn’t bother to read, treating them more like stocks or bonds. She looked up from the pages, her golden brown eyes boring straight into mine.

  “You must love working here. I’m so sorry you will be leaving what should be your career. You’ve got a gift for this. I’ll admit to a certain selfishness, but I will miss having your phone calls and emails. You always make the best choices for my library.” I could see her being intimidating to most people, but her words struck a chord in me. True appreciation from one book lover to another.

  “Thank you.” I looked away. Her gaze was intense. I turned to the surrounding books, needing to get my focus back on the subject at hand.

  “If you don’t mind, I’m going straight home to compare your recommendations with what’s already on my shelves, since I do occasionally shop with other dealers.” She put her hand out for me to shake. I grasped it, her skin warm and dry.

  “I look forward to hearing from you soon.” I breathed.

  When she got to the front door, she turned around.

  “Call me Simona, please.” She grinned, then slipped out the door. My heart raced as I watched her descend the steps. Oh, if only she was into nerds who rarely saw the sun.

  I turned around and nearly ran into Christy who’d snuck up behind me.

  “Oh my God, Amber, was I right or what? She is so freaking…” Her words died in her throat as I heard the front door open once more. It was her, Simona.

  “Miss, I’m sorry, I forgot your name. May I have a word alone with Amber?” She asked Christy. She had the good grace to nod and walk back to the stockroom. Once the door closed, I turned around to face her.

  “I thought about something on my way to the car…”

  “Sure, what can I help you with? Did you have a question about the suggestions I made for you?” I murmured, happy just to speak with her again.

  She grabbed one of my hands in hers. Damn it, I could feel my palms slicking up again. Thoughts raced through my mind, none based in reality. There was no way she’d ever be interested in me. I swore she was going to ask me out on a…

  “Do you have a job lined up after the bookstore closes? My personal assistant just quit on me, and I really need someone I can count on. You’re organized, and you’ve impressed me over the phone and in emails for months. Now that I’ve met you, I think you’ll be a great fit.” Simona spoke fast, almost too fast for me to register her words.

  “I, um, I don’t have a job lined up yet, but I know I’m going to need one.” I stammered. This might not be a dream date, but a job would be nice too.

  She looked at me expectantly, I guess wanting me to accept the job on the spot. It was tempting, very tempting. Finally, she spoke.

  “You don’t have to say yes right away, I mean obviously you need to know more. Let me tell you about…” Her eyes closed, then she reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone which was vibrating. She glanced at it then continued.

  “This is why I need an assistant, because my life is very busy. My first day off in months and, damn it, I’m sorry, an emergency has come up. Can I email you the job description, and salary? I feel like we’ve already conducted a very lengthy interview, and I know I want to hire you.” Her face rearranged itself from vibrant to grim. I noticed a few strands of gray woven through her dark, tousled hair.

  “Please do, you can use my work email. My boss won’t mind.” I felt my pulse pounding in my ears.

  She took my sweaty palm in her dry one and shook it once more. I swore she held onto it a beat longer than normal.

  “Thanks.” She slowly walked out the door, turning around to give me a little wave as she left. She looked exhausted now. When I first saw her she’d looked so lighthearted, vibrant, full of energy.

  “AMBER! Oh my God!” Christy shrieked.

  I jumped, then felt her hug me from behind. She’d been eavesdropping the whole time.

  “If you don’t take that job I will personally escort you to the nearest mental health clinic.” She said.

  “Well, I don’t want my sanity on your conscience.” I
nodded my head, turned around, and hugged her back.

  I’d be crazy not to take it, right?

  Simona

  I felt the phone vibrating in my back pocket. It had to be right when I was talking to Amber about the job. Damn it all, not now. I pulled it out, my heart racing as soon as I saw who it was.

  I took a deep breath. Don’t lose control. Okay, one thing at a time. Amber, I need to hire her.

  “This is why I need an assistant, because my life is very busy. My first day off in months and damn, I’m sorry, an emergency has come up. Can I email you the job description and salary? I feel like we’ve already conducted a very lengthy interview, and I know I want to hire you.” I said, the giddiness I felt just a moment ago evaporated.

  “Please do, you can use my work email. My boss won’t mind.” Amber replied. She was perfect for the job. Responsible, organized, and she loved books. I never met anyone who loved books, plus there was something in her eyes that made me feel she was trustworthy. I trusted no one, ever. I looked her in the eye once more, then shook her hand. Her smile made my lips twitch upward, infectious.

  “Thanks.” I walked to the door, wishing I could stay here, talk to Amber a little longer, about books, or anything else for that matter except for this damn text message.

  She was perfect. My gut told the truth, had guided me to success in a cut throat restaurant industry strewn with more business failures than successes. It had kept me alive when nothing else could. I spun around at the door, giving her a little wave filled with regret, and left.

  “I’m going to use your office for a few minutes.” I told Rob, the manager for Grace, my restaurant down the street from Bartholomew’s Books.

  “Sure, no problem.” He walked out of the cramped room and shut the door softly behind him. His desk was a mess. I couldn’t think with the blizzard of paper staring up at me. I gathered up the receipts he’d been filing and placed them in his top drawer, then pulled my phone out of my pocket and sighed. My mother had texted me. I needed to call her immediately. Since we rarely spoke, I knew it was serious.