Page 19 of Love Me In Color

Before agreeing, I finished showing him the rest of the market. We stopped by Mrs. Alder’s tent for some vegetables and bought some cookies from Penny. Parker was shocked at my knowledge of the people we interacted with at each stop.

“How do you know everything about everyone?” he asked.

“I ask and listen,” I shrugged. “I’ve been coming here every Saturday for three years. Many of them have been around for just as long. Some even longer. I’ve always liked to support small businesses and learn their stories. They’re just like you and me, trying to make a living and take care of their families.”

The sun shone on his face. He hid his curiosity behind his sunglasses and cocked his head slightly. I felt like a puzzle he was trying to decipher.

“For example,” I continued. “The little boy Ms. Mabel showed us is her seventh grandchild, but he is only the second boy. Her daughters both live out of the state. One is in Oklahoma, and the other is in Washington, but she visits them at least once a year, and they visit her every Christmas. She brings them to the market, and the kids bring a breath of life to this place during the holidays. I feel good knowing my money goes to help her travel to see them.”

“What else do you know?”

“James is going to propose to his girlfriend in Cancun next month. The ring is gorgeous. He planned to do it at the end of last year, but his dad got sick. He’s better now, but it set them back slightly. Adam is intensely working to graduate and has a job offer in Seattle. He’ll never admit it because he likes to seem manly, but James will miss him like crazy. Penny sells cookies every Saturday because she’s saving for culinary school next year. Her parents don’t support her, so she’s been alone since graduating high school. Last Christmas, I bought a dozen cookies from her for everyone in the office. She’s almost to her goal and wants to open her own bakery one day. The Alders come here to avoid the monotony of retirement. They were part of the original crew that established this market. I like to talk to people. You’d be surprised what you can learn from consistent five-minute conversations.”

“You are incredible,” he whispered in disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you.” He pursed his lips, making me wonder what he was thinking. “Thank you for inviting me today. I’d like to join you again if you don’t mind me tagging along. Maybe I can learn to listen more during five-minute conversations.”

“You’re welcome to join me any time. I enjoyed shopping with you.”

We sat back on the metal bench for a few minutes. The warm feel of the metal came through my jeans. People came and went from the market, empty bags quickly filling with fresh produce, great cookies, and more. The sun was warming up the air around us, and I was acutely aware of Parker’s leg sitting millimeters from mine.

“Will you come by for dinner tomorrow? I was serious about the gumbo.”

“How about you come to me?” I suggested, feeling more comfortable knowing that Gabby would be around in the evening to find my dead body if Parker was a serial killer.

“Sure,” he smiled. “Text me your address, and I’ll be there at five.”

“Okay,” I stood up and faced him. “See you tomorrow, Parker.”

“Later, princess.”

Chapter Eight

Saturday night.

Still two days before.

A nice dent in the shape of my butt lingered on the couch where I had been sitting for the last couple of hours. My goal of not working during the weekend failed. I was bored waiting for my date with Richard, so I reviewed the presentation Nathaniel gave Amelia.

It had been over a week since the last time I looked at it, and my brain needed a refresher on all the promises we had made. Within a couple of hours, I became an expert on Truly You again. I scrolled through their social media and took notes on what they had done before. I wanted their work with us to be unique. My goal was to avoid repeating the same kinds of content that they had already put out.

Gabby was still out with Nathaniel, so I didn’t endure her judgmental stare as I got ready for my date with Richard. For someone as sweet as she was, she made it obvious when she didn’t like something or someone. My hair was straightened, and I slipped into a short-sleeved black dress.

“Hey,” Richard’s bright smile greeted me at the door. “You look good. Shall we go?”

His sport coat hid his bony shoulders, making him appear broader than he was. His build was of a long-distance runner, which was ironic because he hated running in any capacity. I tried to take him running with me once, but he instantly complained of the sweat, the pain, and even the stretching. I wished I could shovel food in my mouth like he did and still stay in shape without trying.

I looped my arm around him as we walked the handful of blocks to the restaurant. He held the door for me.

The atmosphere of the restaurant was intimate. My eyes had to adjust to the dim lighting. Each round table had a miniature modern chandelier hanging over it. The rings of light placed a direct spotlight on the food when it sat on the table. The walls were painted dark, with twinkling lights draping down every few feet and some abstract paintings.

The classical music heightened the cozy feel without interfering with the conversations. Hushed chatter and quiet laughter livened the dining room. The place was packed, but Richard had been smart enough to make a reservation, so we didn’t have to wait.

We sat towards the back in a rounded booth. I scooted toward him, and he did the same on the other side. A gorgeous daisy in a clear vase sat in the middle of the table. I loved daisies.

Richard raved about the book Connor recommended to him. It was a development book about habits that he seemed utterly enthralled with. He seemed to be paying attention to the lessons and talked about them in great detail. I loved that he was an avid reader, but I noticed he rarely used the lessons he read about.

Usually, I was more attentive. I would ask him questions about what he was reading, and whenever I talked about a book, he would do the same. Tonight, my brain struggled to process what he was saying as my mind ran rampant with ideas about the campaign and worries about what Monday would look like.

“Blake?” Richard reached for my hand across the tablecloth. “Are you listening to me?”

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