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I’ve always wanted to own a Vespa scooter but it’s too cold in Boston to use one most of the year. Now that I moved to Miami Beach, it’s the first thing I’m going to buy. This way I won’t have to drive as much. It’ll be perfect to ride and get around locally since parking isn’t easy. Besides, the weather calls for it.
The other day I saw a cute sign that read 305 Scoots, with a smiling sun donning sunglasses between the three and five. The uniqueness of the sign and name stuck out to me—using Miami’s area code in the name to create a logo was clever! When I peeked through the window, I saw a showroom full of scooters.
After dropping my mother at the airport this morning, I decide to walk to the scooter shop since it’s a short distance from my apartment. Although it’s September, it’s still hot outside—blue skies and a lot of sun—the exact type of weather I moved here for. After grabbing my pockabook and sunglasses, I head out toward the scooter shop.
Strolling along the sidewalk, I make a mental note to buy a large brim hat; the sun is pretty intense and hurts my eyes, regardless of the sunglasses. I take in the surroundings of my new neighborhood. Most of the buildings are art deco style and the streets are lined with bumper-to-bumper parked cars, which reminds me I have to get a resident’s sticker for my vehicle.
There’s a different vibe here than back in Boston. The people walking take their time as they stroll to their destination as opposed to back home where everyone always seems rushed and deliberate walking the city streets. Not to mention, many don beachwear and flip-flops. What’s interesting and I hadn’t noticed during my last visit with the girls is the sidewalks are red rather than the typical concrete color.
I’ve only walked a few blocks but I’m sweating so I grab the hair band around my wrist and pull my curls up into a messy bun. As I approach Alton Road, I see the 305 Scoots sign across the street and am excited. I’ve ridden a scooter a few times in my life and finally getting one of my own is checking off a bucket list item.
Inside the shop is bigger than I expected, and rows of mopeds and scooters are displayed before me, with electric standing scooters lining the right side of the shop.
“Hello and welcome to 305 Scoots. I’mEduardo. I can help you?” a man asks, in a thick accent.
I raise my head and wave at the tall man standing several feet to my left. “Hi. I’m interested in buying a Vespa scooter and want to see what you have.”
“Sure, follow me,” he says, turns, and strides toward the far left of the showroom. “These are the Vespas we have right now. It’s our most popular scooter so there are not too many in stock.” He’s pointing at three scooters and there is one in the exact color I want. Vibrant red with a black leather seat.
“The red one. She’s calling my name,” I say, a smile spreading across my face as I approach the red Vespa. Once I reach it, I drag my hand along the black leather seat, the seat’s stitching a deep red matching the scooter’s color. “She’s a beauty. Now I need to decide what I’ll name her. Let’s do this,” I exclaim, turning to Eduardo, excitement coursing through my veins.
“She’s beautiful, like you,” he says. Heat rises to my cheeks. “We only brought it onto the sales floor yesterday.”
“Do you want to take her out?” he inquires, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope. She’s exactly what I want.” My smile stretches across my face.
“Okay. Let’s go over to the desk and we can get the paperwork ready. I only need your license.”
I find my wallet and take it out of my purse. As I try to pull my license out from where it’s stuck to the clear plastic it’s behind, I realize that’s another thing I have to do, get a Florida license. “I don’t have a Florida driver’s license yet because I just moved here, is that gonna be a problem?” I ask.
“No problem. Just fill this out with your information,” he says, sliding a blank form across the desk toward me. I complete the form, we discuss the details of the scooter, and I give him my ID.
While Eduardo begins the paperwork, I wander over to the accessories area to see what they have and begin browsing the helmets. I’ve seen people riding without a helmet but think I should wear one. I’m still new at this and can’t be too safe. There are so many styles to choose from. I know I definitely don’t want a full-face, it’s too hot outside to wear one. There are two different open-face styles, need to see which I like more and fits more comfortably. I pull a solid black one off the shelf.
“¿Soledad,eres tú?” a man asks. When I raise my eyes to his, Amaury is standing beside me, the dark stubble giving him a dark and dangerous look.
“Hi,” I say, pushing my curls behind my ears.
“You back in Miami for vacation again?” he asks, confusion spreading across his features. Or maybe disappointment because I haven’t reached out to him. It’s been months since I last saw him but he’s as beautiful now as he was the night I met him—maybe more so now with the natural light accentuating his green eyes. The scar over his eye is a lot more visible now, the thick line running from his eyelid about an inch above the brow line.
“Actually, I decided to move here.” I place the black helmet in my hands back onto the shelf.
“You live here now, very nice,” he says, raising an eyebrow and crinkling his forehead.
“I’ve been here about a week, so far. I love it. Now that I live here, I’m buying a scooter. What about you, what are you doing here?” I ask, grabbing another helmet from the shelf in front of me, this one also black but with silver designs on it.
“This is my shop.” He smiles now, a genuine grin reaching his eyes.
“Oh, well, even better then. I’m glad to know I’ll be supporting someone I know.”
He steps closer to me and with the back of his fingers grazes the skin on my upper arm. “You never called me.”
His thick accent warms me from the inside, sending a chill up my spine and the helmet I’m holding drops to the floor, causing a loud thud. “I’m sorry.”
“I got it.” Amaury bends to pick up the helmet and places it back on the shelf, then turns to me. Standing before me his emerald eyes gaze into mine, and he grasps my fingers intertwining them with his, his proximity causing my breath to quicken. “I was thinking about youtodos los díassince I meet you,” he whispers, bringing my hand up to his lips, dropping kisses along my fingers.
“I—”
