Rock climbing. That was new. Automatically, Danni made a mental note of it — in her head, she pictured folders for every one she met, each one storing all the bits and pieces she learned about them. "Indoors or outdoors?" she asked.
"Both," he answered. "Would you be interested in maybe —?"
"Here you go." Kimberly set the coffee on the table in front of him. Beside it, a small square of yellow dusted with powdered sugar. "A sample of our lemon bars, compliments of Pauline's," she explained. "So you can think about it for next time." She smiled at him before leaving their table.
Danni raised both her eyebrows at him. Logan's face didn't flush red.
"See what I mean? Just peddling pastries." He took a bite from the lemon square. "Mmm. Good. Want some?" He held out the untouched side to her.
"I'm good, thanks." She took a sip of coffee, wondering if he was actually this blind when it came to women. If so, then he never noticed her in the first place, when she had glimpsed him from a distance and found him attractive, before actually speaking to him at this table.
This same table, she thought. Right. I forgot. She was growing used to this little corner in the coffee shop, and the view from the nearby windows, where she watched the world come and go outside. It was the coziness that made her gravitate towards it now, she thought, like the coziness of Pauline's atmosphere a few months before the crowds.
"You weren't wrong, by the way," said Logan. "What you said before. I'm terrible at reading people. I guess you could say I read too much into their body language, then too little. Back and forth. It's a very bad way to determine what an expression or a tone actually means." He took a sip from his coffee. "I'm guessing you have the opposite problem."
"What? Because I know the barista was flirting with you?" Danielle asked.
"No, because you pick up on everything I say or do," he said. "You're analyzing it. I can tell. I may not be good at body language, but I know when somebody's reading it. And you're reading me — every comment, every gesture."
"So you're better at this than you're admitting," said Danni. "Is saying you're terrible a cover?"
He laughed. "I'm not that good. Or that smart," he added. "Not when it comes to relationships, I know."
She wondered if he had a bad one in the past. A bitter breakup, a soul-scarring ex. Or maybe he was one of those people who wanted a deep connection and never made it.
Whoa, earth to Danni. No more analyzing acquaintances, got it? She took a breath and changed the subject.
"You're right about me having the opposite problem," she said. "I'm pretty quick when it comes to assessing people. Judging them, too," she admitted, "so your words got to me a little a week ago, when you apologized."
"Do you get it wrong a lot?" he asked.
He might be teasing her, or even needling her with this question, but Danni chose to give a straight answer. "Not often," she said, stoutly. "Like you implied, I have a lot of practice. But I'm working on saying I'm sorry when I do."
Logan's pencil was touching the paper of his journal, but he wasn't writing. He seemed to be staring at the blank paper as if it wasn't there. She wondered if he was even listening to her right now.
She cleared her throat. "So, I'm doing a charity drive this afternoon," she said.
He looked up again. "Really?" He sounded interested. "For what?"
"Actually, I won a contest," she said. "Naming the theme for a cancer treatment foundation event. It's a walk-a-thon they host annually in the city ... a friend of mine's really involved and joins every year. She's a cancer survivor."
"What theme did you choose?" he asked.
"'A Cup of Kindness,'" she answered, proudly. For a moment, she thought he was going to laugh, because a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "Obviously, you're not impressed," she continued, trying not to sound disappointed or annoyed.
"No. It's not that ... it just sounds like something out of Mary Poppins," he confessed. "You know — explain it to me. Then I'll tell you what I think. First impressions, remember?"
"Right. First impressions," she repeated, knowing he had a point. Don't judge him, Danni. "Well, it's simple. We bought coffee wholesale from a local roasted beans emporium, and repackaged it in these Mylar bags with two big pink hearts interlocked on the front. It's a gift, see — a cup of kindness given from one person to another, somebody in need of encouragement. We sell them for five dollars apiece, proceeds go to the foundation, and we encourage people to buy them and give them to patients struggling with a tough diagnosis, or to someone they know who's having a difficult time."
She took a deep breath. "That's it in a nutshell," she concluded. "So?"
Logan surveyed her, thoughtfully. "I like it," he said. "See, I was wrong. After I heard all the details, my second impression was the right one, wasn't it?" He lifted his cup like a toast. "Cheers to me for learning another lesson today. One step closer to rehabilitation."
"Please. Don't rub it in," said Danni, sarcastically. "It's not a competition, learning not to judge people."
"Oh, I'm sorry — was that what this is?" he said. "In that case, burn on you, Lowell." He hid a smile behind his cup. Danni suppressed one of her own by biting her lip. It wasn't all that funny, was it? Mocking the flaw that accidentally led them to this situation?
"So, any chance you'd like to buy some coffee?" From her tote bag, she produced a cellophane packet tied with pink curly ribbon, the charity drive's signature label on the front.
"Aha. I see," said Logan. "Well, I guess I'm guilty enough over my callous laugh to submit to blackmail for charity's sake." His smile proved it was another joke — sarcastic humor was emerging more often now, Danni thought. That was something new.
He pulled his wallet from his bag. "Do you have two, by chance?" he asked.
"It's your lucky day," said Danielle, who was a little surprised by this question.
"Thanks." He handed her a ten.
She didn't ask to whom he intended to give them, although she was curious. Maybe he had a friend or coworker who was battling the disease — or maybe he had a girlfriend. He was good looking enough that being single was a slim possibility, even though he'd suggested he was.
Not her type, of course. But certainly good looking.
"Can I top you off?" Kimberly had reappeared at his elbow, a coffee pot in hand.
"No, thanks," Logan answered. When he caught Danielle's eye, he smiled. He definitely knows she's flirting, Danni thought. He's just pretending. But he doesn't fool me.
Danielle smiled back.
Table for Three
Logan's shoulder bag was packed with demo versions of the new video game his software designed, making it feel strangely heavy. Must be the case design, he decided, the one depicting a tank bursting through a steel building with a fiery explosion.
These were complimentary copies from the game's designer, as a 'thank you' for the bugs in the program Logan had helped him work out last minute. Now Logan's friend Eric was going to be one happy gamer for the weekend, and would probably offer free maintenance for Logan's rock climbing equipment for the rest of the year in thanks. Not that he'd take him up on the offer, of course, tempting as it was.
Pauline's Saturday lunch special was no longer a vegan wrap, he discovered as he assessed the menu. Thank heavens. He ordered a cup of coffee and a ham roll, and that's when he spotted Danni at 'their table' in the far corner. That's how he had come to think of it over the past few weeks, anyway.
"This is a surprise," he said. "I thought you ate lunch with your friend the editor on Saturdays. Alyson ."
"Um, usually I do," said Danni. She looked slightly surprised and startled, as if he'd interrupted her reading the menu at a critical point in the choosing process. "Just not today."
He shrugged off his business jacket. "Missed you this morning, if you were here," he said. "I had a last-minute call from this client, whose project needed some help."
"No problem," she said. "It's not like we have a
standing appointment, right?"
"Try the ham roll," he said. "It has to be better than the sprouts wrap."
"I'll keep that in mind," she said. "Um, Logan —" And just as he sat down, a third chair was drawn close to the table, and a stranger was between Logan and Danni.
"Hi, Danielle." He kissed her cheek. "Sorry I'm late." The person sat down, a cup of coffee and a small salad in front of him.
An awkward pause. A quick assessment on Logan's part of the third party was not good news. A guy close to his age, dressed in business casual. Slightly taller, slightly darker, possibly slightly better looking.
He looked at Logan. "Hi," he said, smiling.
"Um, Rick, this is Logan, a friend of mine," said Danni. "Logan, this is Rick, my —"
"— date," supplied Logan. "Lunch date, anyway."
"Nice to meet you." Rick shook hands with him. He and Danni exchanged glances — probably questioning, bewildered ones. Logan's embarrassment burned inside him.
"So, what's good around here?" Rick asked, lifting the one page lunch menu.
"Not the sprouts wrap," said Logan and Danni at the same time, both letting the statement die away just as quickly before finishing.
"Um, try the Caesar's wrap," said Danni. "It goes really well with the home salad."
"My favorite," said Rick. "It's like you know me so well." He smiled at her. Logan felt his muscles tighten with frustration as he watched them.
Clearly, he'd been mistaken about the chemistry between himself and Danielle, just as he had suspected. Otherwise, he wouldn't have barged in like this on a prearranged meeting between herself and ... what? A recent blind date? A future boyfriend? She hadn't said, actually. They could be engaged for all he knew.
"So, Logan, are you a coworker, or just a friend of Danielle's?" Rick asked. "Do you work at her publishing house? Reading all those love stories for a living?" The same genial smile on his lips as before.
I think I might actually learn to hate this guy, Logan thought. "No, I work for a software design company," he said. "You know. Computer geek."
"Right," said Rick.
"Rick owns a cycling shop," volunteered Danielle.
"Yeah, that's how we met, actually," said Rick. "Her friend Gabby is a cyclist. She comes in every week to scout the new gear, pick up a new chain or something ... we started talking, and she said 'I have this friend who would be perfect for you.' She insisted I take Danni's number ... and so I asked her out one night."
"Gabby told me she gave him my number," added Danni. "She knows I like athletic guys."
"Tall, dark, and handsome guys," Rick corrected, with a smile.
One tugged at Danni's lips — what kind it was intended to be would be hard to say. "That, too," she agreed.
"Wow. Well, that is a magical story," said Logan. He made sure not to catch Danni's eye for this remark.
Tall, dark, athletic. That could have been him, Logan thought ... well, close. So when did she meet this guy? This week? Last month? Yesterday evening at some Italian restaurant? And was that all she wanted in a guy, anyway?
"Rick's really dedicated to using his passion to help people," Danni continued. "He competes in the cancer foundation's triathlon. You know, the one I'm helping with their fundraiser?"
"Anyway, we're just hanging out, seeing what happens," said Rick. "I'm taking her to see Rent this weekend at the Orion Center."
He slid his arm around Danni's chair, casually, as he talked, letting it rest against the chair's back. Inches from touching Danielle's shoulders.
While there was absolutely no reason for him to feel jealous, Logan had a feeling that he was fighting this emotion and losing. A deep sense of disappointment, too, for not asking Danni out before now. You mean when you insulted her multiple times and guaranteed she'd shoot you down, he reminded himself, sarcastically.
"I should explain what I'm doing here." Logan blurted the words out without thinking. He looked at Rick, who looked mildly interested in knowing the reasons. "See, on Saturday mornings Danni and I usually have coffee —"
"Just as friends," said Danni, glancing at Rick, too, as if to reassure him.
"— and I was late, so when I saw her here, at this table, I assumed she was alone." And still waiting for me, he wanted to add, but didn't. "I had no idea she was on a date."
He glanced at Danni. Tiny evidence of a smile appeared around the corners of her mouth and eyes. A 'thank you' one for trying to fix this situation, he imagined.
"No problem," said Rick. "It happens." He offered a smile of sympathy to Logan, who tried not to give in to the fantasy of himself punching it off.
"I'll switch tables and give you two some privacy," said Logan. "A date's a date, right?"
"You don't have to go," began Danni. "It's fine if you want to join us. Right, Rick?" Rick was momentarily wordless, it seemed.
She sounded guilty, but not like she really wanted Logan to stay. Guilty about the empty table and whatever part she played in his assumption, he imagined. Maybe I'm getting better at reading people, he thought, bitterly.
"No, this is fine," answered Logan. He smiled. "Trust me." He picked up his sandwich and coffee and moved to another table, not waiting for Rick's hesitant expression to become a fake, inviting smile at the last minute.
The only table open was too close for comfort, the window one where the Scrabble-loving couple usually sat. Logan angled his chair to face away from Danni and her date. Gazing towards the window instead, trying to seem as disinterested as possible in what might be happening at the table behind him.
Café Rules
Awkward. That was the first word to pop into Danni's head when she saw Logan at the cafe's table. She felt the urge to retreat backwards to the sofa area and hide her face in the open softcover novel Love's Everlasting Touch, but didn't. She steeled herself to seem normal and nonchalant.
Saturday morning's special was marmalade muffins and poppy seed banana loaf. She wished she hadn't given in to the urge for the familiar and had gone somewhere else this morning. Jennet was always pressuring her to join a later yoga class and try a raspberry smoothie at the Juice Jar....
She smiled at Logan as he caught her eye. For a moment, he looked uncomfortable and embarrassed. Maybe he was hoping she would go somewhere else, too.
Danni approached. "Mind if I join you?" she asked.
He removed his ear buds. "Sure," he answered. He laid his music player on the table, next to a paperback legal thriller, and a plate covered in poppy seed crumbs.
It's like the first time all over again, Danielle thought. She drew out her chair and sat down. "About last Saturday —" she began.
"Don't mention it," he said. "My fault. I didn't pick up on the signals. It was kind of obvious, actually, that you weren't expecting me."
"No ... I was going to say thanks," said Danni. "For being so casual about the mix-up, I mean. Somebody else might not have taken a hint."
"No problem," he answered.
"It was awkward," said Danni. "I'm pretty sure I made you feel awkward. That was definitely not my intention."
"You didn't think I was going to hang around and join you on your date, did you?" he asked, incredulously.
"No. But you could've. It was just a casual meeting," said Danni. "Like Rick said, we're just hanging out, taking things slowly. I mean, we had dinner with my friend Toni before the musical, even."
"How was Rent?"
"Not my favorite," she answered, with a shrug.
"I shouldn't have assumed." Logan spoke up again, quietly. "I mean, just because a chair at a table is empty doesn't mean someone isn't supposed to fill it. I made the mistake of thinking —" He paused. "I guess I got trapped in a routine, and forgot to ask a very simple question anybody else would ask."
"It's not like I asked a couple of Saturdays ago," Danielle pointed out. "I just pulled out a chair and sat down. You could have been expecting a friend. A date. Maybe a girl was meeting you for Danish pastries and discussion about t
he post-modern musical."
Logan snorted. "I think I'm over the post-modern musical debate with romantic partners," he answered. "And the last woman I dated expected more than a pastry for our time together."
"Sounds like a real gold digger." Danni relaxed her smirk to a serious face. "Kidding, just kidding. I'm sure she was amazing, whoever she was."
"Actually, you weren't far from the truth." Logan took a sip from his coffee. "But you don't have to worry about barging in on one of my dates. I can't see myself dragging someone new to a part of my weekly routine. Sort of like asking her to spot my weight lifting, or go on a dry cleaning run with me."
"So I'm part of your dry cleaning run?"
"Don't flatter yourself." He gave her a quick grin over the rim of his coffee cup, taking a second sip before continuing. "What I'm saying is, I'm not bringing anybody here anytime soon. There are more pros than cons to the idea."
"Bringing dates to your regular haunts has its drawbacks," Danielle agreed. "You never know who you'll run into. Friends, coworkers. Exes." She pictured running into her past boyfriend Billy, whose video game love and unemployment had been bones of contention between them. That would have been far more awkward than Logan's interruption.
"Exactly," said Logan. "Or what if they hate your favorite spot? They insult your favorite flavor of coffee, or the raspberry turnovers you really love —"
"Or they make fun of it to your face," said Danni.
"Or their friends," countered Logan. "Behind your back, and you find out through the grapevine later on that they think you have terrible taste."
But they love the hideous, tasteless sprouts wrap, she mentally added. And they make you split it with them every time you eat here.
Danni stirred creamer into her coffee. "And if the relationship grows serious, they'll ask you to switch to some other spot. 'Our spot' as they'll refer to it. You'll have to sneak back to your old one, because they'll expect you to modify your routine since you were trying to fit them into it the first time."
Table for Two Page 3