You Smiled (3 page)

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I figured as much.”

“Will you be coming back tomorrow?”

“Right around 3pm. Is that a good time?”

“It is if you’re going to tell me what you’re doing here.”

He stood and smiled. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Well, you know, maybe I won’t be here.” Grace cringed inwardly at her petulance, but stood her ground.

He eyed her with amusement. “Then I guess I’ll just have to take my chances.”

She lifted her chin. “You’re impossible, and I’m sure I don’t care why you’re here.” She dared to look straight into those brown eyes, and finally had to concede to a little grin. “Oh please. Just go away. I’ll see you - whenever.”

She made sure she was well away from the table before she gave in to a full smile.

Thursday

Alex walked down Fremont Street and
couldn’t seem to keep the spring from his step. He was still a block away from “Caf-fiend,” and felt a kid-like anticipation at seeing Grace again. He glanced at the window display of a pottery shop, noting colorful platters and mugs, vases and pots lining the multi-leveled shelves. He caught a glimpse of himself with a silly grin on his face, and passed a hand over his jaw; so not his professional persona.

He’d been enjoying unraveling the mystery that was Grace. He liked watching the clues in her eyes as to how her mind worked. She had a quick temper - those beautiful green eyes could flash - but she was just as quick to listen, even while she was angry; not a bad combination of traits.

He smelled the roasting beans first, then noted that he was already in front of the store. He skirted several tables and chairs scattered welcomingly on the deep sidewalk, and made his way through the open door. The autumn air was unseasonably warm; another reason to smile as he approached the counter.

Drew regarded him with an almost-scowl, his stance suggesting anything but welcome. Resisting the urge to square his shoulders and stare him down, Alex shifted to his professional smile.

“Let’s see. Can I get a Moroccan mint iced tea - medium?”

Drew opened his mouth to say something, b
ut changed his mind, turning instead to get the drink. Kelly smiled and waved from further down the counter, and Alex nodded, smiling in return. Another employee whom he hadn’t yet met stepped out of the office, and Alex watched to see if anyone else followed. No Grace, yet.

The iced tea made its appearance and Alex laid a five on the counter, not waiting for change. He walked toward the back of the store and contemplated the area where three old booths held each other up in the corner.

He contemplated it more closely when he observed a pair of legs extending from one of the seats of the furthest booth. The toes were pointed down, so whoever was attached to them was faced down on the bench. He glanced at Recycle Man, who appeared to be uninvolved and uninterested in the display just a few feet behind him.

Alex edged closer and the feet did an awkward flip, accompanied by some indistinguishable grunting beneath the table. His curiosity now completely engaged, he stepped up to the booth. The head and shoulders had disappeared under the table by the wall, and a flashlight beam darted about underneath.

He set his iced tea down and crossed his arms as he watched Grace - they were unmistakably her legs - twist about on the bench as she tried to do something underneath the table. He grinned as he listened to her less than happy muttering as she went about this unusual task. She slid further off the bench and he shifted, not sure if he should be ready to stop her if she started to fall. He glanced at what remained visible of her body, and wondered what he would even grab a hold of without causing pretty significant offense.

Her squeal broke his reverie about appropriate handles and he jumped forward and grabbed a fistful of her apron before she went down. Her squeal abruptly became a gasp as he got a hold of enough fabric around her waist to keep her from hitting the floor. He pulled her back up to the seat, and her flushed face finally appeared. He couldn’t help but grin; she was disheveled and mortified and utterly breathtaking.

He straightened up as she hauled herself to a sitting position and tried to smooth her hair.

“You okay?” he asked, trying really hard not to laugh.

She scowled at him. “Yes.” She yanked her apron into place and tried to reclaim her dignity.

Alex reached down and picked up her flashlight. He flipped off the switch and set it on the table. “You planning to …”

“Is everything alright?”

The voice behind him sounded equally irritated and concerned.

“Yes, Drew, I’m fine. Just looking at out how these booths are attached.”

Grace slid out and Alex moved so that she could stand. It was as close as he’d been to her; she just about reached his chin. He took another step back to give her some space.

Drew cleared his throat. “Are you ready to move them?” He paused, then said. “It’s kind of busy right now.”

“Oh no, I was just trying to see what we’re up against,” Grace replied. “I’m done with booths for right now.” She brushed off her arms. “Thanks.”

Alex pivoted to face drew Drew. They were about the same height; Drew probably had ten or twenty pounds on him, though they both wore their weight well.

Grace seemed to sense tension as she glanced from one to the other of them. “Is there a problem?”

For a moment, nothing was said, and neither man acknowledged her question.

“No, we’re good,” Alex finally replied, his eyes not leaving the other man’s face.

Grace continued to look between them. “Do you two know each other?”

Drew shook his head slowly, and Alex said, “No.” He finally turned to Grace. “I’m going to grab a table. Stop by if you have a minute.”

“I’ll be right over.”

Grace looked at Drew pointedly, and he seemed to hear the unspoken charge to get back to work.

She shook her head and walked with Alex to his table. “What was that about?”

“Do you honestly not know? Have you guys gone out at all?”

She seemed genuinely surprised. “No, we’re just friends. Dating wouldn’t work here; I’m the boss.” She looked over her shoulder and then back to Alex, realization dawning.
“Oh, wow, I feel stupid.”

Alex pulled out his chair, and she sat down opposite him with a look of concentration. “I never noticed him treating me any differently from the other girls.”

Alex eyed her speculatively. “I don’t want to interfere, but if there’s nothing going on between you ...”

“Then what, you’ll troubleshoot my business for me?”

Alex smiled slowly at her. “I’m not here on business.”

Disconcerted by her physical reaction to his smile, Grace crossed her arms. “And you’re not here on vacation?”

“Will you go out with me tonight?”

She sighed. “Will you stop answering my questions with questions?”

“Let’s go out, and I’ll tell you everything.”

“What if I don’t like what you have to say?”

He looked at her for a long moment. “I think you’ll be okay with it.”

“Okay with it? That doesn’t sound very exciting.”

He continued to watch her eyes, delighted with how they danced as she teased him. “Guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

She studied him for a moment.
“I’ll meet you across the street at The Pizza Place.”

“I can pick you up,” he offered.

“That’s okay. Let’s keep it simple.”

He noted the challenge.
Good for you.
“I’ll take it. What time works?”

“I’m done here around six. Give me an hour to go home and clean up. I’ll meet you there at seven.” She stood, and Alex stood with her.

“I’ll be there.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

She smiled. “I’ll see you later then.”

He smiled back. “I’m looking forward to it.”

***

Alex took in the restaurant,
pleased with the atmosphere. When Grace had suggested pizza, he’d pictured a brighter, noisier spot. This place was quiet and the booths were more private than he expected. He sat back and glanced at his watch. It was just after seven. Would she show up?

The server stopped by and asked if he’d like to order a drink. He said he’d wait and she gave him a sympathetic nod. Alex smiled a wry smile and stretched his legs beneath the booth. His muscles reminded him that he’d had the opportunity to run every day this week. The ocean views had been spectacular. He’d take that much with him when he returned home in three days.

He checked his phone for messages, not that she had his number to leave one. He considered the list of numbers awaiting his call.
So much for trying to take the week off.
He put his phone back with a sigh and glanced toward the door just as she walked in. She was wearing jeans and light-weight cream colored sweater that buttoned down the front; casual but elegant in a Grace-like way. She stopped in the doorway, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior.

Alex stood and she saw him, gave a little wave, and walked over.

“I’m sorry to keep you,” she said as she slid into the booth. “Emergency at the shop.” She smiled at him tentatively, folding her hands on the table.

“Everything okay?” He couldn’t get over the fact that she was sitting in the same booth with him.

“Oh, yeah.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. She’d worn it down tonight, and he had a hard time not focusing on the way it fell over her shoulders. “Roaster issue. We got it resolved.” She scanned the room. “Not many people here tonight; this place is usually pretty crowded.”

“Well, it’s a nice night. People are probably cooking out one last time.”

Grace nodded. “So, have you looked at the menu? They have a great margherita pizza here.”

“That sounds great – let’s go with that.”

“Although it’s comparatively low-fat, and I know that’s not your thing.”

He smiled. Now that he had this opportunity to talk with her after all these years, eating was the last thing on his mind. “I trust you. What would you like to drink?”

“I’ll go with the raspberry iced tea. See what they do with it.” She grinned mischievously.

They placed their order, and minutes later they were alone.

Grace watched the server walk across the room before turning back to Alex. When she did, the questions were there, waiting to be asked, and expecting answers this time. He drew a deep breath. This is what he’d come to do. He hoped he could find the words to let her know what she’d done for him.

“So, I’m visiting Clairmont this week,” he began, then paused. “I think I should back up.”

Grace smiled and watched him with interest.

“I grew up in the Midwest - Indiana.”

She smiled. “That’s really backing up.”

The smile just touched his lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you the abbreviated version.”

The server stopped and delivered the drinks, promising to return with their pizza.

“So, fast forward to the summer before my senior year in high school. My parents got divorced, which was awful. I’ll spare you those details, but my mom decided to move back home to Connecticut.”

“That’s where I grew up,” Grace interjected.

Alex regarded her. “Yeah, I know.”

“You do?” She sipped her tea and eyed him a bit warily.

“I went to Parkside my senior year.”
He stopped and let her process this information. He could tell she was trying hard to remember him, without success. It didn’t surprise him. Few people from the high school knew he existed.

“Did you do sports?” she asked. “Band?” She searched his face, trying to place him.

“No sports, no band. I hardly got involved at all. It was tough coming in as a senior; everyone knew everyone and friendships were pretty well established.”

She continued to search his face. “I feel like I should remember you.”

He smiled wryly. “Well, I looked a little different. I was painfully thin. I hadn’t, ah,” he shifted a bit, “filled out, yet. I wore my hair long - in my eyes - gave me an excuse not to look at anyone.” He shrugged and sipped his drink. As common an experience as it probably was, it was still an uncomfortable memory.

She looked him over like she was trying to picture the transformation. “Where did you eat your lunch? Did you walk when we graduated? What’s your last name?”

He smiled at the barrage of questions, surprised she hadn’t asked the last one first. Still, he took her questions in order; that’s how his mind worked. “I usually ate lunch in front of the school, on those benches by the statue.” She nodded, remembering the place. “Yes, I walked at graduation. My last name is Mitchell.”