Page 17 of Until Next Time
I’m quiet for a beat, feeling warmth creep up my stomach, I tease, “see you later, boss!” He shakes his head, smirk placed successfully on his lips, and he heads out the door.
I want you.
I knew that he was referring to the job offer, but I can’t help but feel a pang in my chest at what alternative meaning they could have. What I wish they meant. I’m going to tuck those words away for safe keeping. In my heart.Forever.
16
Dawsen
I’ve been pacing the shop all morning, trying to focus on some inventory orders and getting some tax documents together for my accountant, but the thought of Birdie showing up at any minute has me feeling unsettled and anxious.
Greg and Savannah have been eyeing me suspiciously all morning, and I hear them whispering like little town gossips, which is partially my own damn fault—when they arrived this morning, I was already in the middle of answering emails, and I don’t typically roll into the shop until well after they’ve finished up the opening protocol, so I kind of gave them reason to yap about why I’m acting so fucking wired.
I can’t help the way my body reacts to being around her. It feels an awful lot like my body knew I was in love with her way before my heart and my mind accepted it, because I’ve reacted this way for years.
I’m making my way back out into the shop from my back office when I see her walking down the sidewalk towards the front doors. I feel heat rush up my neck and into my face. I pinch the bridge of my nose in between my eyes hoping to still my heart rate a bit.
She’s wearing black leather boots that stop right below her knee, and a white button down shirt is tucked into the tiniest skirt I’ve ever seen, and a tweed vest is layered on top of that. Her dark hair is dancing in the breeze and she’s wearing a red beret like a fucking cherry on top. She’s like a walking wet dream. I mentally scold myself for my current train of thoughts.
I suck in a deep breath as she struts in. She comes to a halt as soon as she sees me looking right at her from the back of the store.
“Birdie Banks, reporting for duty.” She straightens her body, standing like a soldier at attention, and then salutes me.
Fuuuuuck me.
“Sorry I’m a little late. I didn’t account for the time it would take me to walk here from the furthest spot I could find.” She fires at me with a wink, as she strides up to me from the front door and I don’t miss the way her hips sway with every step.
I laugh nervously because I feel like I can’t think straight all of a sudden. It’s that damn skirt and the thoughts I’m having about it. Like who do I have to thank for making it, what’s underneath it, and what would it look like upstairs on the floor next to my bed. I try to clear my throat as I try to put some words into a sentence so I don’t look like I’m having a stroke.
“You don’t have to park down the road, Birdie. Just take one of the spots up front next time.” I say sternly, trying to act cool, but I can hear my voice come out laced with angst. Shit.
“Absolutely not. I’m hoping to earn my spot for employee of the month, so that just won’t do.” She says playfully and juts her chin out at me like she’s proud of herself. “We don’thave employees of the month.” I say plainly, trying to look unbothered and casual by leaning against the bar top.
“Why the hell not? You need to incentivize your employees Dawsen. People like to be recognized for doing a good job. It’s like…motivational, and great for business.” She says in rebuttal. I hear Greg’s muffled voice call out from the store room, “She’s right, I sure could use some incentivizing. I’ve really been feeling under-appreciated these days. I might even start looking for work someplace else.” He says dramatically.
Birdie lights up and waves her hand in the direction of Greg, like she’s excited to have another person on board.
“Okay, okay. I’ll figure out some sort of reward system. Lay off about it now. And don’t you have something to be doing besides listening in on my conversations, Greg?” I snap back.
Greg just huffs out a laugh and grabs a broom and begins sweeping and says, “I’ll stop listening in on your conversations when you stop acting like a wound up ball of stress.”
I see Birdie raise a quizzical brow at me with a small smirk spreading across those soft lips of hers.
We’re about to open up for the day, and I need to get this meeting with Birdie going, because the sooner I start, the sooner I can get her out of here. I need the space. My body is having way too many physical reactions to her presence and I’m trying really fucking hard to not give myself away.
“Alright Birdie, let’s go have a chat in my office.” I start leading the way, and she follows suit. We pass the coffee maker on the way back, I pause, “Can I get you a cup of coffee? It’s no maple latte, but it is actually pretty good stuff.”
She stares at the coffee pot for a beat, then looks right at me, “Maple Latte. You know my coffee order?” She deadpans. Looking a little confused.
Shit. So much for playing it cool and not giving myself away.
I rub the back of my neck, trying to find my way out of this without sounding like a total stalker for remembering her coffee order. So, naturally, I’m an asshole and over-correct, making her feel like an idiot no doubt.
“You’ve been drinking the same thing as long as I’ve known you… it’s not rocket science.” I spit out.
With that, I can see her retreat a bit. Her shoulders slouch just barely an inch, but I can tell the edge in my voice deflated her a bit, and I hate myself for it.
“Oh, yeah. You’re right. Uh, I’ll take a cup, yeah.” She says, with really no defining expression, almost like I snuffed the light out of her eyes. I grab my favorite mug off the shelf and pour her a cup. I hand it to her and nod my head in the direction of my office. She takes the cup and follows me back.
