I’m sitting patiently in the waiting area when Joel joins me; freshly showered and looking fabulous in dark jeans and a plain white tee. My gaze is drawn to his feet — he’s wearing fabulous shoes; casual yet dressy, shiny patent loafers. I’m struggling to make out the words printed on them. When I finally look up at him, he’s smiling.
“Fabulous shoes,” I say.
He grins widely. “Thanks… I have a big collection.”
A man with a shoe collection — that’s something you don’t see often.
He cocks his head to the door. “Ready?”
I nod and when he gallantly opens the door for me, I smile. He waves goodbye to Kendra and we both set out.
The sidewalk is very quiet. “How many pairs of shoes do you have?” I ask.
He laughs. “Too many… no clue.”
I find myself widening my step to match his. “I have forty-six pairs of heels,” I tell him, “most of them pointy toed. They are all sitting neatly in my walk-in closet, organized by hue, every color of the rainbow.”
He smiles playfully, amused. “Wow. And you know the exact number too.”
“Weirdo, right?” I joke. “I have a thing for numbers and order. I’m an accountant.”
“That’s cool. We all have our quirks. I like old fifties rockabilly music, Elvis Presley and the like… I don’t normally go around telling people that.”
“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me,” I tease.
“I love that whole era… the clothes, the music.”
I glance down at his loafers. “Actually, your shoes are a little rockabilly.”
“That’s probably why I bought them.”
“My friend, Gretchen is into that. She’s always wearing the cutest skirts and tops, and she often wears her hair up retro-style.”
“Cool.”
Before I know it, we’ve reached our destination, a quaint little smoothie shop. It’s filled with a group of teens, just out of school, I assume.
We both study the colorful menu on the wall. “So, what’ll be?” he asks.
“What do you recommend?”
“I highly recommend the banana-strawberry.”
“Then that’s what I’ll have. I trust your judgement.”
He smiles. “My treat.”
“Oh, no. You don’t need to… I have money.” Seriously, could I be more awkward?
He laughs. “Consider it my thank-you for letting me recruit you. My sister’s always looking for new members.”
“No worries. I really enjoyed it.”
His face lights up. “I’m happy to hear it. So you’ll be coming again?” he asks, his eyes curious.
“I might even buy a package,” I tell him.
We’re up next and he orders two smoothies; banana-strawberry for me and mango for him. He chats with the young girl at the counter while she whips up our smoothies — they seem to know each other well.
