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And, seriously, I’m actually having drinks with the Morgan Banks!
“I’m lucky,” she began. “My parents are super cool. They’re kind of like next generation hippies, if you can picture that. And so, they’re, like, each person has to follow their own path and all that, so they haven’t given me any lectures or anything. They just want me to be happy. Anyway…”
Chloë trailed off.
“Yes?” Morgan asked.
Chloë blinked twice. Her eyes had suddenly fixated on the way Morgan’s fingers were slowly twirling her wine glass. Such long fingers. Such slender and long fingers…
“Um…anyway, you’ll be happy to know that I have started some college courses,” Chloë told Morgan when she was able to focus again on getting words out of her mouth. She then spent a few moments talking about the array of business classes she was taking online.
“And what is it you plan on doing with all that business knowledge?” Morgan asked.
“I want to open my own coffeeshop,” Chloë said. Again, she felt intimidated saying this to Morgan. So far, whenever Chloë had told any of her friends about her coffeeshop idea, she had done so with excitement and eagerness. But sitting here across from Morgan, an older and accomplished woman whom Chloë not only lusted after but admired, she suddenly felt like she was confessing to a pipe dream.
“I mean, I know owning something like a coffeeshop won’t be easy,” Chloë hastened to add, “and that most small businesses fail in the first year, but it’s really the only thing I’ve found that speaks to me, you know? Like, as a long-term career type of thing?”
“Hey…hey,” Morgan began soothingly. Again, her hand came to rest on top of Chloë’s and again Chloë thought she could just die. “If having a coffeeshop is your dream, then do it, please! And, sure, it’s a tough career to be successful in, especially during a pandemic, but it sounds to me like you’re going in with your eyes open. And, if I remember correctly, Miss Marchand, you are one very intelligent woman.”
Under the table, Chloë had to cross her legs.
Chapter 6
“No way!” Morgan exclaimed. “You actually live in a tiny house?”
The waitress had just delivered their second bottle of wine. As their first bottle had gotten more and more empty, Morgan had realized that she still didn’t want this night to end. Yes, the overdose of caffeine was still coursing through her veins, but on top of that, she was simply having so much fun here with Chloë.
At one point—and she blamed the wine for this—the thought had entered her mind that if the people around them in the wine bar thought that she and Chloë were on a date, it certainly made her look good, having such a pretty and young girlfriend.
“I do,” Chloë confirmed.
“Those are so cool! I love looking at them on, like, design websites and such. And your father built it?”
Morgan noticed Chloë struggling to keep a straight face.
“Um, yeah,” Chloë said, suppressing a laugh. “Sort of. Kind of like the way they say that guy Chrysler built the Chrysler Building.”
“Ah, I see. So, he was more on the funding side of things?”
“Right.”
And then Morgan listened to Chloë regale her with the tale of how the tiny house came into being, and every time Chloë laughed during the story—which was a lot, because it was a funny story that was making Morgan laugh also—the same thought ran through her m
ind.
I could listen to that laugh all day!
“So, what about you, Morgan?” Chloë giggled. “I still can’t believe I get to call you Morgan!”
“You are too cute,” Morgan said, and then felt her heart flutter at the way Chloë quirked an eyebrow at her. “What about me?”
“Since I graduated? Your life, I guess?”
“Oh God, are you ready for our night to end so soon? Because you’re going to run out of here crying tears of boredom!”
There was that laugh from Chloë again and, seriously, Morgan was loving it.
She then related her life A.C., as she called it, “After Chloë”—another laugh from her companion—and really did wonder if Chloë would find her to be the dullest person in the solar system.
