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“Wide open today. Want some company?” Deacon asked.
Not wanting their time together to end just yet either, she said, “Sure. Was there anything else down here you wanted to check out?”
“I’d like to stop at the bookstore in Weller Court. They’ve got a bunch of paper art stuff. Chloe does a lot of scrapbooking. I was going to get her a bunch of stuff for her birthday, and at least this way I don’t have to go into one of those scrapbooking stores. Some of those women can be very…aggressive.” Sara said, “Aggressive? What, they gave you the hard sell on some glittery letter stickers?”
Smirking, Deacon said, “Ha! I wish. These two little old ladies ran the last one I was in. When I walked in, they started chatting with me. It got weird when I bent to pick something up off the bottom shelf and one of them groped me. She had to have been like, seventy. I felt like a piece of meat!”
Laughing uncontrollably now, Sara said, “But, Deacon, she was probably really experienced. You should have let her drag you into the back. You could have made sweet, sweet love on her couch. You know, the one with the plastic cover?”
Totally deadpan, Deacon asked, “Who says I didn’t?”
After a short pause he added, his gaze smoldering now, “Deloris was the best I’ve ever had.”
Sara examined his face for a moment, as if she was trying to decide whether he was serious or not. She cringed, and remained silent.
Finally his lips twitched, and be began to laugh at her.
“Oh god. You should have seen your face. That was amazing.”
Returning his smirk, Sara raised her hands in the air and said, “Hey. I won’t judge you. To each their own.”
Laughing loudly now, he said, “No. As soon as the lady groped me, I got the hell out of there. That was way too creepy for words.”
Patting his arm and laughing, she said, “Poor guy. At least you know you can always get a little cougar action if times get tough.”
; “Eh. I’ll pass, but thanks. I think,” Deacon said, his laughter finally dying down.
In silent agreement, they made the short walk to the Japanese Village Plaza. Stopping in the middle of the main courtyard, Deacon said, “Coffee first?
Sara nodded and said, “Caffeine.”
Grabbing a Danish and their coffees, they made their way out to the fountain. Sitting on the stone border, they partially faced each other.
“So,” Deacon asked, “what brought you to LA?”
Sara chewed the bite of Danish she had taken, and said, “An overwhelming desire to leave Florida. I was born there, lived there my whole life, and went to school there. I spent my whole life less than twenty minutes from my parents. It was…oppressive. It was time to make a change.”
Nodding, Deacon said, “Twenty-five hundred miles puts a lot into perspective, doesn’t it? But wait, weren’t you a communications major?”
“Yep. I did it for a couple of years out of school and hated it. Everything about it. I decided that the best job I’d ever had was when I worked at a caterer part-time. So I got a full-time job doing that, then picked up as much as I could about the business end of things. About two years ago, I decided it was time to start out on my own. Edible Innovations was born.”
After a beat, she said, “I’ve read the blurb on the web page, but why PR? What made that the thing to do?”
Sipping his coffee, Deacon said, “Wasn’t my idea. Jim…I don’t think you met him yet, but you probably will. I knew him and Chris both from high school. Anyway, Jim inherited a hotel and a bit of money from his grandmother when she passed. He thought about just selling it, but I guess he went into work one day and someone pissed him off, so he said, “Fuck it,” and decided he was going to start his own business.”
Pausing, he took a bite of Danish, then chewed. Continuing, he said, “He knew Chris’s football career was over. He knew I was living in my mom’s old shit-box house, taking care of my sister and working to finish my degree. He decided that we were motivated individuals and that we’d all make a good team. Chris had connections, I had a good head for numbers. He could sell anything to anyone. PR seemed a natural choice.”
Pausing for another sip, he said, “Funny how things worked out, huh?”
Nodding, Sara said, “Isn’t it though?”
Having finished her Danish, Sara sipped the last of her coffee and stood up. She walked over to the garbage can and threw out her trash.
Taking his last bite, Deacon followed suit.
Sara asked, “To the bookstore? I’ll protect you from any old ladies we run into.”
