“What?” I shift in my seat, reaching for my cup.
“I don’t only run a bookstore. I also own a restaurant. Well, it was my husband’s. There’s actually two and I’ve yet to set foot in either one. Looks like tonight I have no choice.” I don’t miss the dread in his eyes or how it slowly spreads to the rest of his face.
“Which restaurant?”
“Maybe I don’t have to tell you and you’ll show up anyway. Only one way to find out, right?” He raises a brow.
My face heats. Is he flirting? Is my body responding to it? Why would it? Maybe for the same reason it’s been responding to everything else from him. His smiles and jokes touch a part inside me I didn’t think worked anymore. Why can he reach me there easier than my wife can? I love Stacey and haven’t shared more than a few conversations with this man.
I’m not attracted to him or anything. I wouldn’t be, not sexually. Not even if he was a woman. Gender didn’t matter to me. I didn’t experience sexual attraction to anyone unless there was a strong emotional connection between us first. The realization of me being demisexual didn’t come to me until a little over a year ago, over a casual conversation with a friend. Why I’d never had celebrity crushes, didn’t understand one-night stands, and had taken my relationship with Stacey so slowly, made sense to me after that day.
Could I be with a man if the feelings were there? I don’t know. I never had the opportunity to fall for anyone else but Stacey. It doesn’t matter. I’m married to my soulmate. This is nothing but some weird misunderstanding. We must have encountered each other before and we both forgot. I’ve fainted at plenty of restaurants when I was really sick. His husband’s perhaps? I’ve heard about how traumatic events can connect you to people. That has to be it. I’m running out of ideas and explanations.
“Hey, I was kidding.” His words bring me back to where I am—sitting in front of him, choosing the wrong time to get caught in my head. Shit. I didn’t realize how much time had passed.
“Huh? Oh.” I smile. “Yeah, I know. It was funny. Careful, your jokes are starting to sound like mine,” I say lightheartedly.
“I better get going then, before I’m too far gone or one of the cooks sets the kitchen on fire, whichever comes first.” Grinning, he slides his phone back into his pocket and clutches the empty brown paper bag between his fingers.
“I’m not sure which is worse,” I deadpan.
“Me neither. They’re probably on equal levels.” Smiling, he looks down at his feet and then back at me. “It was nice running into you again.” He shoves his chair back and slowly stands up.
“Yeah, you too. I’ll see you at the restaurant,” I joke. “You can even hold onto my paper bird and give it to me the next time we run into each other.” Lifting the napkin from the table, I stick out my hand and he hesitates for a few seconds before wrapping his finger around the bottom, briefly touching my skin. My heart feels like it’s bouncing off the walls of my chest and my head is spinning.
“Enjoy the rest of your night. Don’t get lost exploring too much.”
Haven’t I already? “I’ll try.”
Waving me off, he grabs his cup and tosses his empty bag in the trash before walking out the double doors I never expected him to enter tonight. He leaves and comes into my real life the way he does my subconscious, setting back any progress I think I might have made each time. A strange yearning inside takes over during his absence and I keep giving in to it without meaning to.
Why him? Why me?
Finishing my drink in one long sip, I leave the shop and head back to the place I feel like a stranger the most—home.
Ten
Elijah
Working at both restaurants is still new for me. I don’t know how I’ll ever adjust to managing food and this many staff, but I can’t simply walk away. I can’t watch everything Landon worked hard for diminish to nothing. His dreams became my dreams, and he might be gone but everything we created together doesn’t have to be.
Wait staff walk past me as I play host, waiting to seat the next guests. We’ve lost two waiters and a manager this week. Between being here, the other location, the bookstore, and handling funeral arrangements, I haven’t had a chance to arrange any interviews. Openings have been added to job sites and hiring flyers have been placed on the windows. Applications have been submitted, and once I have a damn minute to breathe I’ll look them over. Who knows when the hell that’ll be.
“What are you doing up here, Elijah? I thought you were leaving for the night?” Lydia, one of the waitresses, asks.
“I was, but Chelsea got a flat so she’ll be an hour late.” Whoever the hell Chelsea is. All I know is she works as a hostess here and is scheduled tonight. Why didn’t I take time to visit the restaurant more and to meet the people my husband surrounded himself with daily? Maybe because I didn’t think our days together would be so limited. We were supposed to have more of them. Will I ever stop burdening myself with the ifs, whys, and whats?
“It’s been a little crazy here today, hasn’t it?” Lydia says, pulling me from my reverie.
“Yeah. Hopefully it’ll settle down soon. You go take your break. I’ll be okay up here.”
“Okay.” Smiling, she tugs off her apron and returns to the back.
A slew of customers come in, and after I seat them all I direct one of the bussers to the tables needing to be cleaned before stepping back behind the hostess stand to take a breather. The front door creaks open and I sigh, hating how short my break was, until my eyes land on a pair of striking, widened, blue ones.
At a loss for words and mouth agape, I stare at the man I’ve only known as FlowerShop Guy for the last week. For some reason I keep forgetting to ask his name, and he always leaves before he can tell me. When I made the joke about him figuring out where the restaurant was on his own, I wasn’t being serious. Oddly, I’m not at all disappointed or bothered. With anyone else I more than likely would be. What makes him so different?
And why am I still holding onto his bird-shaped napkin in my glove box? Maybe because it matched the ones Landon used to have on the table during special occasions. He learned a little origami at work from an employee, and at one point, him practicing his new skill led to different paper animals all over the house. Some still remain in his office.
