“So did I,” Michael replied. “Maybe we should arrange to bump into each other again soon.” It wasn’t a question.
“That sounds like a great idea,” she agreed, then looked up in surprise as the cab slowed to a halt, and she realized that they had arrived at her address. “But for now, I guess this is goodnight.”
“Allow me.” Michael had gotten out of the cab and opened her door. He instructed the cabbie to wait and escorted her to the front door of the building. Michael quirked an eyebrow at her and offered a grin. “One for the road?”
Their mutual eagerness had them bumping noses and exchanging a husky laugh again before their laughter subsided into the sweetness of each other’s mouths.
“Well, Kate, I guess I’ll be seeing you soon,” Michael said, still holding her hand and tracing gentle circles on it with his thumb. “Maybe we can arrange a date sometime.”
“I’d like that,” she said softly as dimples appeared on her cheeks, making him smile.
“Good night,” he said and turned to walk back to the cab.
“Sweet dreams,” she called, and for a moment he hesitated, his gaze flashing back to her, before he shot her a broad smile and climbed back into the cab.
~~~
“It’s about time,” Wren commented with a raised eyebrow the next morning.
“What?” Kate was surprised at Wren’s remark as she appeared with the tray of cupcakes.
“You’ve been daydreaming all morning, and for the first time ever you’re—” Wren looked at her watch, “—ten minutes behind schedule.”
Kate laughed, setting down the tray and leaning forward into the cabinet to arrange the cakes, hoping that the action would hide her flushing cheeks. She hadn’t gotten much sleep and had felt out of breath all morning. It seemed that her mind wanted to replay the kiss with Michael at every opportunity.
“Not for long,” Kate replied. “Get the chalk.”
“What do you think this is?” Wren held up a stub. Kate hadn’t even noticed her pick it up. She really had to work to get her focus back today. She’d never been this distracted after a kiss before. She thought for a moment, and then dictated, knowing full well that Wren was going to be curious, but she was too happy to care.
Wren raised an eyebrow and wrote down the words with a smile, and then propped up the chalkboard, watching as Kate headed back into the kitchen. Something was definitely going on. She knew that if she asked too many questions Kate would clam up, but she was content to wait and see.
~~~
Michael liked what he saw, as he leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles and shaking out his hands as he gazed at the screen. He’d woken up with words tumbling out of his head, his fingers itching to type them out and up onto the page. With barely a conscious thought, he’d stumbled out of bed and over to his desk, sat down, and began to type. He had no idea what he was writing about, which for him was a departure from his normal style. His previous novels had been mapped out in meticulous detail, character biographies and intertwining relationships carefully noted and explored. This time there was none of that; he simply sat and typed. By the time the stream of words had slowed to a trickle, he was aware of a mild ache between his shoulders.
Michael looked at his watch and snorted with surprise at the hour. He had been working for longer than he thought. He sat for a moment, considering his options, and then with a sigh got up and changed into his jogging gear. He’d taken to going for early morning runs, although glancing back at his laptop, he couldn’t find it in his heart to begrudge the altered morning schedule today. He stopped long enough to fill up his water bottle and grab his keys, and then he was gone.
Jogging around Washington Square Park, Michael stopped for a few breathers and drink breaks. After his initial jog with David, he had woken up stiff and sore, which had been a bitter lesson to learn. Without David to spur him on this time, he set himself an easier pace and noticed that he didn’t seem to be struggling as much as he thought he would. His decision to quit smoking had definitely done him some favors. By the time Michael had finished the circuit, he was well and truly ready for a shower, and he jogged home slowly. Once home, he stood in the kitchen, flicking through the mail he had collected in the foyer downstairs. There was nothing of note, and he headed toward the bathroom for a shower. He wanted lunch, and he wanted to see Kate. There was no reason why he couldn’t do both.
The city noises hummed around Michael as he made his way toward the Village. He’d taken his time with a shower and a careful shave, picking out clean jeans and a button down shirt. The jog had left him feeling hungry and energized, and he found himself paying more attention to his surroundings as he walked, enjoying his newfound sense of purpose. David had called, wanting to meet for lunch, and unsurprisingly they had both agreed the bakery would be the perfect spot. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and answered without checking the number.
“Forrester,” he said, weaving through a group of students that were mingling outside a music store. “Alistair, hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” Alistair replied, taken aback at Michael’s voice. “How’s things?”
“Good,” Michael said. “I’m just taking a break for some lunch, and then I’ll be back working this afternoon.”
“You’re still writing?” Alistair worked to keep the surprise out of his voice but wasn’t entirely successful. After months of dealing with a dour-sounding Michael, this new incarnation had caught him off-guard.
“Don’t worry,” Michael replied in a dry tone. “I’m as surprised as you are.”
“It sounds like it’s going well.”
“Whatever it is,” agreed Michael. “I still don’t know what to tell you about it, but give me a few days and I’ll send an outline.”
Alistair found himself in a quandary. He was eager to get his hands on whatever it was Michael might be working on, but didn’t want to push for fear of dampening this sudden onset of creativity.
Michael snorted. “It’s probably better I send you something soon before I change my mind.”
“Well, whenever you’re ready,” Alistair agreed quickly to seal the offer. “Get it to me when you can.” He paused. “And Michael?”
Michael hunched his shoulders a little as he walked, trying to listen to Alistair’s voice over the sounds of traffic. “What?”
“You sound good. Better than you have in a long time.” Alistair chose his words with care. “Whatever you’ve come across that’s helping you out, hang onto it.”
“Oh, I plan to,” Michael replied. He looked up at the intersection and saw that he was only a block away now. “Gotta go. We’ll talk again soon.”
“All right then,” said Alistair. He hung up and shook his head in wonder. He’d been worrying about Michael over the last few months, watching as the deadline had come and gone with nothing to show for it. Now it seemed that there had been a change in fortune, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the cause of it was.
~~~
Worrying is like a rocking chair:
it gives you something to do
but doesn’t get you anywhere.
Michael smiled at the chalkboard, and then stepped inside. Worrying seemed to be something he’d been doing less of lately. His gaze went straight to the counter inside, and he saw Kate serving some customers, and then turned to where he heard his name being called. David gave him a casual wave from the table he’d commandeered and was folding up his newspaper as Michael approached.
“I see you’ve brought your work with you,” Michael said, nodding at the paper.
“You’d think so.” David snorted. “But I’m not so sure anymore.”
Michael started to pull out a chair from the table to take a seat, and then glanced over at the counter again. Kate was nearly finished with her customers; maybe he’d go say hello first. He glanced at David. “You want a coffee?”
“It’s why I’m here,” David answered, then got up and tossed the newspaper onto the table
. “Let’s eat.”
Wren was emerging from the kitchen as Emily appeared in the doorway with a conspiratorial grin.
“He’s back,” she said.
Wren gave her a blank stare. “Who is?”
“Galahad, and he’s brought his friend again,” Emily said, jerking her head back toward the store.
Peering over her shoulder, Wren saw Michael flanked by a man with fair hair. “Oh great,” she muttered to herself. “It’s Mr. Wonderful.”
“You know him?” Emily looked at her in surprise.
“I don’t need to,” Wren said in a dismissive tone. “I know his type.” She paused and gave David a more considered once-over. He was looking good: not too preppy, not too casual. He clearly had a sense of his own style and knew how to work it to his best advantage. She gave her shirt a quick tug to smooth out any creases and raked her fingers through her hair to freshen up the style. Today she was wearing her favorite navy blue Capri pants and a fitted, orange T-shirt that bore the slogan “100% organic.” She was looking good today, too, and that made her feel even better. Two could play at that game. Strolling out into the storefront, Wren gave Michael a broad smile of welcome.
“Hey, stranger,” she greeted him. “Great to see you again.”
David raised an eyebrow at this and glanced at Michael. How often had he been coming here? He watched Michael glance across at another woman who was serving some other customers, saw her give him a blushing smile and got his answer. He glanced down to conceal his smile. He didn’t know what was going on between the two, but his friend looked happy, and for David, that was enough.
The two men ordered and argued good-naturedly over who was paying. David was about to return to the table when he noticed Michael lingering at the counter. He glanced over to see Michael scrutinizing the cupcake special, and then looking at the woman he had exchanged a smile with earlier. He’d have questions for his friend when they got back to their table.
David leaned forward to read the chalkboard propped up on the counter. Sweet Possibilities, Black Forest Cherry Delight. He looked at the cupcake name, and then at the quietly chatting couple. Interesting. He glanced over at the espresso machine to see that their coffees were ready, and he reached out to take the cups as they were slid across the counter toward him. With a careless smile of thanks, he took them back to the table.
Wren felt indignant. She’d offered Mr. Wonderful a smile, gazing up at him through her eyelashes in a manner that she knew worked well, and yet … nothing. His gaze had flickered across her and he had offered her a smile, a polite smile at best, and then he was gone. What the hell was wrong with her? Better yet, what the hell was wrong with him? Snatching up the dishcloth, she wiped the frothed milk off the steam spigot with quick, angry movements.
As David ordered lunch and headed back to the table where he’d left his newspaper, Michael lingered by the counter with Kate. She’d finished with her customers, waved them off, and then turned to him with a brilliant smile.
“Bonjour, Kate,” he greeted her, smiling as the words came easily. “Comment allez-vous?”
“Très bien, merci,” she replied, and then winked. “But that’s all the French I’ve got.”
“Same,” Michael confessed. “Lucky for us there were subtitles last night.”
Kate laughed and leaned toward him. “Remind me to teach you my foreign language game sometime,” she suggested, enjoying the way Michael’s face lit with curiosity. “I think you’ll like it.”
“You’re on,” Michael answered. Standing in front of her, he knew he was already looking forward to seeing her again.
“Have you ordered?”
“Uh.” Michael was distracted by her smile, and looked over at Wren who nodded, holding up two laden plates in silent answer. “Yes, we have.”
“Oh.” Kate seemed a little disappointed at the prospect of their conversation running short. “Well, I’ll send over dessert for you later.”
“Only if you join me,” Michael countered, surprised at his easy daring with this woman.
“Then you’ve got a deal,” Kate replied.
“But we still don’t have a date,” Michael said, wondering where his words were coming from. In the past it had been nothing for him to labor for days over a page of dialogue, and yet here he was, tripping over himself to keep talking to a woman whose smile kept him warm.
“No, we don’t,” Kate agreed, “but how about you ask me later? I’ll make it easy for you and let you know in advance that my answer is going to be yes.” She reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and stood regarding him with one hand on her hip, her face lit with a smile of easy challenge.
“That’s good to know,” Michael replied, turning from the counter with considerable reluctance as he heard David call his name. “Very good in fact.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Kate replied, glancing over at Wren who stood watching them both at the coffee machine, and she gave an inward sigh. No doubt this conversation was going to be dissected beneath Wren’s loving scrutiny later.
Michael took the plates from Wren with a smile of thanks and strolled toward the table, already feeling satisfied and replete. Setting the plates down on the table, Michael sat and then looked up to see David looking amused. “What?”
“Nothing.” David sipped his coffee.
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Michael commented as he bit into his bagel and chewed slowly.
“Let’s just say I’m beginning to see the appeal of this place,” David replied, flickering a glance back at the counter to where Wren was serving someone, and then indulging himself in a more leisurely study of her once he had assured himself that she was unaware of his scrutiny.
Michael followed David’s gaze, and then regarded his friend.
“You too?”
“Maybe,” David conceded. “But it’s early days yet.”
“Okay,” Michael said, taking another bite. “So what’s going on at work, anything you can tell me about?”
David sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair, making his blond hair stand up in uneven spikes. He looked, Michael realized, tired and uncertain, which was unusual for him.
“How much time you got, Forrester?”
“All the time you need.”
Kate smiled as her latest customers left and put the bills in the till, bumping the drawer shut with her hip. She stood and surveyed the store with satisfaction. Business had been at a steady pace for the morning. All of the tables were occupied and people were laughing and talking over their meals. Others had finished and were now giving the cupcake cabinet speculative looks that she knew would lead to buying. Everyone looked happy and content, and Kate gave a sigh of satisfaction, knowing that in some small way she had contributed toward it.
She glanced over to where Michael was sitting and watched him as he talked to his friend. He was leaning forward on his elbows, his shoulders hunched as he listened to his friend speak. He had a languid feline grace and he listened with an intensity that suggested a long friendship.
His friend was still talking, occasionally waving his hand as he made a point, and Michael barely said a word. He nodded in encouragement now and then, and it seemed he only spoke when he wanted to clarify something. For the most part he sat and listened, soaking up all the words that were offered to him.
~~~
“Sounds like a good offer,” Michael commented at last, when David’s conversation petered out.
“Yeah,” David sighed.
“And you know your parents would be thrilled,” he added.
David gave him a tired smile.
“Well, I can’t say that I’ve set my life course by what they wanted, but I’ll admit that factor would be a bonus,” he confessed, then slid his elbows forward on the table and propped his head in his hands. “Fuck,” he cursed in a quiet voice. “I’m tired, Michael.”
“Hey.” Michael leaned forward and rested his hand on David’s shoulder. “Can y
ou take some time off?”
“Probably.” David’s voice was muffled.
“Then do it,” Michael suggested. “Come crash at my place if you want. Just get away from the office and have a think about what you want. Life’s too short for this shit. You’ve got to do what makes you happy.”
“Oh, really? That’s your theory?” David looked up at Michael with a cynical expression. “Because I don’t think you’ve been following that advice for the last few months.”
Michael shifted in his seat. David’s words had stung, but it had never been said that the truth would be easy. “True,” he agreed, “but I think we both know my head was too far up my own ass to see straight.”
David looked at him with a straight face for a moment before his mouth quirked into a grin.
“And anyway,” Michael continued, “things are different now.”
“And how,” David replied. “I wouldn’t say you’re a happy camper yet, but you’re at least interacting with the world again. What happened?”
Michael looked over to where Kate stood chatting to the other two women behind the counter. “I guess I got lucky,” he said.
~~~
“Wren, it’s your lucky day.”
“Mmm-hmm?” Wren pulled herself away from her Vogue magazine to give Kate an owlish blink. Things had gotten quiet enough for Wren to make herself a quick coffee and flick through her glossy magazine indulgence.
“I should have known better than to disturb you when you’re at your devotions,” Kate said, “but I wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking about what you suggested last week.”
“You’ll have to remind me; we’ve had a few talks since then,” Wren replied, marking her place and flicking the magazine closed.
“The one about us getting a bit more style,” Kate began.
Wren became more interested. “Keep talking,” she said.
“I don’t know what I want, but I’m thinking that you probably have it all mapped out,” Kate went on.
“Uh-huh,” Wren said.
“So, I can either pitch a few ideas at you, then you can do what you want and let me think it was my idea,” Kate continued, “or I can just let you do what you want and love what you come up with.”
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