He grabs my upper arms to steady me then moves around me quickly, "I thought downstairs was empty?" He walks down the steps, looking back towards the lower apartment door.
"I thought it was. I’ve seen a woman in a maid uniform come out a few weeks ago, and I had a flyer shoved next to my mailbox for a painting service. I think someone bought it or the sellers are fixing it up to get more interest. I was thinking I should have snagged it up myself. Maybe it's not too late. I'll get ahold of the management company today." Both of us continue to watch the door when no one comes out, but I don't hear any movement from behind it. I finally push open the door to the street.
“I don't like not knowing who's down there. When you contact the management find out the buyer’s name, if there is one. If not, put in an offer." He states firmly, "Hell, find out if they'd sell the whole building to you. I can cover the cost." He adds, like it wouldn't be a big deal for him to drop a few million.
"I'm not letting you buy my building," I rebuff
"Why the hell not?" he sounds affronted.
"I don't know, because it's crazy," I offer, throwing my hands in the air.
"We'll see."
He grabs my hand and tucks it into his pocket as we walk to work. I feel warmed by the small gesture. He points out a few things on our way, speaking closely to my ear. It feels like we are the only two people on the crowded sidewalk. He has a way of creating intimacy in public that astounds me.
Too soon, he opens the door to the store and escorts me inside. Jess looks up grinning. Gina is behind her, filling an order. Erin, the newer hire, is swamped at the register, looking a bit flustered as she rings up an order and tries to answer another customer’s question. I sigh, thinking how much I love this store, but for the first time I wish I could take a vacation from it.
I pop the help wanted sign in the window. We could use some seasonal help, especially if this is what I walk into with the new hires.
Beau scans over the crowds sitting or standing about the store.
He must deem the crowd safe because as he turns to me, kisses my temple, and says, "I'll be right in the back room if you need me." He catches the eye of a few of the woman in the store as he walks away. Their stares linger on him, before moving to me. I shrink away from the obvious question in their eyes.
I love that he is so open with his affection, that he holds my hand and kisses me right in front of everyone. It’s just a bit difficult to receive those curious looks. I fidget a little under their gazes, then turn to the register to help Gina and distract myself.
The day passes quickly after that, and before I know it Brian is walking up to me with a small smile.
"Hey Brian, how are you?"
"Good Samantha, you?"
"I'm good. Beau is in the back. I think he's waiting for you," I say while bagging up a purchase for a young man.
"Was he still mad about last night?" He smirks, looking like he couldn’t care less.
"Not that I know know of. Why was he mad?" Brian chortles, shaking his head
"I was sure you were awake for some of that phone call. I was just giving him a hard time, but he's one jealous fu”—looking around at the few children, he quickly corrects himself — “um fella, when it comes to you." He rubs his hand over his stomach, “Got me right in the gut the bas--ahem.” The kid in line eyes get big as he sizes up Brian, likely wondering, like myself, how anyone could possibly lay a harsh blow to the man’s stomach.
Beau chooses that exact moment to walk out from the back, "I thought I called you here?" He ribs, "Quit chatting up my girl." The young man and I both get our answer.
Brian winks at me before turning around to face Beau, "She's just much better to look at than your ugly mug." Thank goodness there aren't a lot of people crowding the register like earlier, to witness these two rib each other.
Beau's eyes narrow playfully, "You're asking for it, Watson."
"Aren't I always Huntington?" Brian smiles as they greet each other with a handshake. "I wasn't sure you'd be so forgiving after last night. I was checking to see if I was going to get another jab for my troubles." With that final comment they walk to the back, leaving the front feeling emptier without their overwhelming presence.
Jude comes in not long after, about an hour early for his shift. He brings a few computer mock ups of the ideas he has for the small space that the coffee counter currently occupies with him. We talk at the register since the backroom is in use, and the mid-morning/afternoon rush has slowed down at the moment.
He wants to make the front counter a glass display case and add a few low refrigerator units on to the side to allow him storage for a premade selection of goods. If that goes well, he ideally wants to make his area a little larger and have made to order fresh selections with simple items.
He excitedly explains, “Like soup, sandwiches, or panini's. Little things.” The conversation turns serious as we talk costs. I'll be fronting the money to make the changes, but he insists he pay me back for half when it is established. “I really want to have a stake in this Sam.” I wouldn't mind just footing the bill, but I know it’s important for him to contribute as my business partner.
George comes in at five, and I'm more than ready to get home. I nearly cheer as he enters through the door.
I knock on the closed door then open it, finding both men looking at me. I haven't seen either of them in the three hours since Brian got here. They’ve stayed holed up in here doing god knows what.
"You guys almost ready?" I ask, looking between them.
