Page 4 of It Happened Duo
“We’re here sir,” Stephen said, pulling the car up to the curb infrontof the Buchanan building instead of the back like usual. Too many people entered the front, and combined with the dingy decor and all the memories it scrounged up, if I had to walk through the lobby, it started my day off wrong. Today, for some reason, people were everywhere, waiting in line for something.
“You know I prefer to be dropped off in the back,” I reminded him.
“Sorry, sir, but they’re paving the road today, so I have to drop you here,” he said.
“Fine, but why are all these people hanging about?”
“Oh, it’s the deli. I hear they have a new menu now. People have been raving about it.”
“What? Er, fine, Stephen. Thanks.” I climbed out of the car and immediately my eyes wandered to the corner of mybuilding and the biggest eyesore on the block. Only now the exterior of the deli appeared different, with red and white striped awnings and large pots of flowers in fall colors and a huge sandwich board announcing the daily special. People lined up to get inside and the tables were full.
“What the hell?” Well, this wouldn’t do at all. It’s time I had a talk with Doug Calhoun, man to man, and got him to agree to move on somewhere else. Drawing closer, I saw people packed into the little deli. Thismustviolate a fire code, and it could play to my advantage. If I make old Doug’s life miserable at the deli, he’d move on and exit this ridiculous lease agreement my father should never have signed.
I stood out front and called my friend in the fire department to report this. “Aiden? Rex here. I need a favor.”
“I don’t know, mate. The last favor I did for you almost cost me my job.” My Australian-Irish friend’s interesting combined accent shot loudly through my phone.
“I’ll throw in a bottle of rare Irish whiskey. Now, I think the deli in the Buchanan building is violating some codes. How quick can you get here?”
“Your building? Okay, I happen to be down a block, finishing up an inspection. I’ll be right over.”
“Thanks.” It paid to know people in this city, as my father always said.
I waited several minutes, but the line only got longer. What the hell? Did people not eat breakfast and make coffee at home these days? Well, they’d have to soon enough because there’s no way I’d let this deli stop my plans for the remodel of thebuilding.
Screw this. I took a deep breath, and I stomped inside and pushed past everyone to the front of the line. I noticed a perky redhead behind the counter and snickered. Maybeshewas the one attracting more people.
“Where’s Doug Calhoun? I need to speak with him.” With a gruff manner, I interrupted a stout man placing an order with the redhead at the register. No one ever awarded me for my people skills.
“And I need to speak to the Pope. Get outta here.” The customer spoke with a thick New York Italian accent and thumbed toward the back.
“Sir, Doug’s not here, but if you’d like to order breakfast or coffee, please take your place at the back of the line like everyone else. Thank you.” The woman spoke with a melodic voice, and with red lipstick and bright green eyes, her smile beamed. Was she trying to kill me with kindness? New Yorkers didn’t smile.
I’d never seen her before, not that I entered this deli often. Or ever. Some people had weird phobias about things, mine was about delis. I couldn’t stand them, and for good reason.
“When will he be back?” I interrupted again.
She fluttered her lashes at me. Her name tag read Chelsea, and her hair flounced as she motioned to the one seat available in the entire place. “If you’ll have a seat over there, I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
I huffed away; what choice did I have? I sat impatiently and looked at my watch. Aiden pinged he’d be here in about ten minutes. That wouldn’t be soon enough.
I looked around the small space, crammed with people at tables and chairs, and the walls stuffed floor to ceiling with shelves and various food and sundries for sale. A bead of sweat formed on my brow and I loosened my tie.
The workers were visible at prep counters assembling sandwiches. Normally my favorite, I eyed the pastrami stacked high and my heart raced. Breathing in through my nose and out of my mouth only slowed old memories from crowding in. I needed something to ground me quickly, or I’d have a panic attack.
Then I zeroed in onher—Chelsea.
Her beauty radiated, almost too much for this old place, and what was with the red flower she wore tucked back behind her ear on the right side of her hair? She twinkled and glowed at every customer with a friendliness that told me she wasnoNew Yorker. If she were, she’d easily be the brightest spot in all the city.
I didn’t know how many minutes passed by as I regulated my breathing and watched her effortless movements behind the counter, pouring coffee, chatting with customers, helping the other workers. Soon I realized the anxiety had lessened. Calmness overcame me until suddenly she walked up, took the vacated seat next to me, and placed a plate between us.
“Here. I brought you a blueberry muffin, fresh from the oven, and the best you’ll ever have.” As fruity and sweet as it smelled, I wouldn’t dare touch it.
“I can’t eat that,” I grumbled.
“Oh. Okay.” She appeared only momentarily deterredby my grumpy self, returning to that bright ray of sunshine with a smile that totally put me in the awkward place of wanting to both kiss her and push her away. “Now, about Uncle Doug?—”
“He’s your…Uncle?”
