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And that’s exactly why I need to convince her to come to this destination wedding with me.
"What, you going to hire staff to cover for me for a couple of weeks?” She laughs, as she tucks a loose strand of hair back into her ponytail. "I like the offer, but–"
"I need a date to my sister’s wedding," I explain. "In Maui. Tomorrow."
She bursts out laughing, turns to me, eyebrows raised. I don’t laugh. I’m dead serious.
"Dude, what?” she asks. But I can see the flush to her cheeks, and I know that something about the proposition that I have just sent her way intrigues her.
"Maui," I repeat. "I need someone to come with me. I’ve been going on dates all week trying to find someone to take with me, and none of them have worked out."
"And what makes you think that I would?" she asks.
"Gut instinct," I reply. "I run a business. I know to trust what my intuition is telling me. So. You in?”
She eyes me for a moment, as though she is waiting for me to burst out laughing and tell her that this whole thing is nothing more than a joke on her – but I don’t. I cock my head to the side, raise an eyebrow.
She shakes her head.
"I can’t leave the business," she protests. "I’d love to take a vacation, trust me, but I can’t just leave all of this behind. I don’t have any staff, and if I did I’d need to train them all before I left, anyway – it's just not something I can do right now."
"I’m sure I could help with all of that," I reply. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. There is something about the pressure of them on her full mouth that makes me want to lean across the counter and kiss her, to taste the sweetness of those full lips against mine, but I know that I have to let her set the pace.
"It’s just not my thing," she replies. "But you – you're a serial dater, huh?”
"Looking to become a cereal one," I reply, gesturing to the board full of fancy products that she sells. She groans, slaps a hand to her forehead, as though the pun is downright painful to her.
"I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming," she replies. "Oh, sorry, can you just...?”
She gestures for me to wait a second while she serves a new batch of customers who have just come in. Even though she must be exhausted from running this place, she is bright and perky with them, laughs at their jokes, cracks a few of her own. She’s got such a rapport with everyone here, and I know that she’s the woman I need to take to that wedding with me.
She lets me sit with her for the rest of the evening, and she chats to me about running this place – about opening it so that she could make somewhere for people who didn’t want to party all the time to come and relax, something that she would have sought out when she was a little younger. And, when the clock passes midnight, people start to clear out, and she sighs and plants her hands on her hips.
"I guess I should kick you out now," she tells me, a little reluctantly. "I’m meant to be closing up..."
"I can help," I offer her, and she stares at me for a moment.
"Really?”
"Really," I reply, and I get to my feet and come around her side of the counter. "So. Tell me what I need to do."
She talks me through shutting off all the machines for the day, and positions me over by the sink to take care of the washing up. Normally, I would be in bed myself, ready for early morning CrossFit at six in the morning, but I know I couldn’t sleep even if I tried. My head is buzzing with the energy that she’s giving off, with the intensity of whatever I feel for her right now.
"You make a pretty good dishwasher," she remarks to me as she leans back against the counter and watches me at work. I would stand here all night and scrub every dish in this place if it meant that I would be able to stay here with her.
"Hire me," I shoot back at her, and she laughs.
"Don’t you run your own business?" she points out. "Might get in the way of that..."
"Might," I reply, and I dry my hands off and turn to her once I am done. "Or it might work out just fine."
"Hmm," she murmurs back, and she cups her hands around the tea that she has been sipping on for the last half-hour. The lights are off in the café, the only brightness coming from the streetlights filtering through the glass from outside. In the dim light, her skin seems to glow with this gorgeous golden tone that makes it hard to think about anything but her, her. Her.
