The Easy Way Out

3

Not only was Blake stunned that Rachel would initiate a date, but equally surprised that she actually showed up at the coffee shop on Wednesday. She was dressed simply in jeans and a baby blue sweater, wearing less makeup than she typically wore at the bar. She tossed her hair when he approached, which made his face flush.

"You're here," he said, taking a seat across from her, grinning like an idiot.

"Yes... I am... Here."

He noticed that she didn't wear jewelry, no necklace, no bracelet. And no ring. He took that as a positive sign.

"Am I late?" He grabbed his phone to check. In fact, he was ten minutes early. "You wanna get a coffee or?"

"Coffee? I wouldn't have expected that. Not in a place like this."

He smiled. "Awesome." He realized that he'd better slow down and begin filtering his thoughts before blurting out stupid remarks or this was going to be a very short date.

Those eyes of hers missed nothing and once focused, it was as though she was extracting every last bit of information.

"So, you're good with coffee?" he asked. "Anything special? Double shot, caramel infusion, whipped cream? Sprinkles?" Judging by her impassive expression, his attempt at humor fell flat.

"Regular coffee always works for me," she said.

He went to the register where a customer at the counter tucked a receipt into her pocket then gave her slovenly boyfriend an aggressive nudge when she caught him ogling Rachel. His cheeks burned when he tried to mumble his way out of it but it was too late. He lacked the social intelligence to avert his eyes once he'd noticed Rachel and his full-on stare was embarrassingly obvious. Behind the wash of desire in his eyes was the anguished realization that he was staring at something special, something a million miles out of his reach.

Blake placed his order then watched the couple bicker all the way to their table. He returned to Rachel carrying two mugs of coffee and before he was seated, she said, "So you sell cars."

"Huh?"

"You're a car salesman?"

He opened a creamer. "I work with car salesmen so I know what that looks like. I am definitely not a car salesman."

She leaned forward, her lips drawn in a polite smile.

"I bought a place, a house in Beechview." He stirred his coffee. "You know where that's at?"

She nodded.

"The housing market there is really hot. Good location. It's close to town. Easy access to public transportation and neighborhood shops."

She ripped a pack of sugar and dumped it into her mug.

"I got it super cheap. It needs a ton of work, which I've been doing. Just about every weekend I'm over there tearing out old plumbing and fixtures. Hanging drywall."

"So you're good with your hands?"

"Yeah, I guess I am."

The innuendo broke a smile across her face.

"I'm gonna make a decent profit when I get it finished," he said, thinking about what he'd like to do with his hands. "Homes in that area are selling fast. A lot of them way over the asking price."

She stirred a splash of cream into her coffee, tucked the spoon into her mouth, and slowly withdrew it, the belly of the spoon riding along her tongue. "So, house flipping is the real you."

"Actually, I'm a designer."

"Like an architect?"

"No. Graphic designer. You know ads, web, digital design."

"Okay."

"I started out in law school but... wasn't for me."

She lifted the mug to her mouth and sipped.

"Law school was what dad wanted. Not what I wanted."

"He's a lawyer?"

"A big deal. Super big deal. Really pissed him off when I dropped out." Blake couldn't change the subject fast enough. "How about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"I'm just some random girl from some little town in upstate New York."

"The Finger Lakes region?"

"Around there."

"It's pretty country up there." He blew across the surface of his coffee and sipped.

"Yeah, it's a nice place to grow up."

"So what did you want to be when you grew up?"

"Cleopatra seemed like a pretty awesome gig. Until my momma told me that Queen of the Nile hasn't been a thing for a couple thousand years."

Blake's smile burst wide open into a laugh. "Wow. You set the bar high."

When she threw her head back with a throaty giggle, he felt drunk just looking at her.

"So, I ended up doing my undergrad at Syracuse."

"Math? Science? Anthropology?"

"Business Administration."

He nodded. "What brought you to Pittsburgh?"

"I wanna do my masters at Pitt. For now, the bartender job pays okay and the tips are good. So I'm saving up. I'm probably gonna apply in the spring."

"You got it all mapped out."

She gave him a small shrug.

Conversation came easily and before long she checked her phone then stood when the hour had passed. "I gotta run," she said, shouldering her bag.

He rose, offering his hand, which she bypassed, embraced him, and pressed her lips to his cheek. He responded with a gentle hug. In his arms, her body felt muscled, like a gymnast.

She whispered, "This was nice. Let's do it again."

Falling deeply into her brown eyes, he fought the urge to kiss her. That could go either of two ways. She could welcome his bold move and reciprocate. Or she could shut him down hard, leaving him standing in a puddle of humiliation in the middle of the coffee shop. 

"Next Wednesday?" he asked. "Or sooner?"

She answered with a loaded smile that could have meant any number of things. She gently broke the embrace and he watched her walk out the door. She gave a little wave before she disappeared from view. He felt someone watching and when he turned he met the eyes of the slovenly guy across the room who shook his head signaling, you lucky son-of-a-bitch.