Chapter 7
Faith
"Weird." I mumbled to myself.
Brenden smiled. "Sorry if I caught you off-guard. Your mix of lilac and coffee is delicious and distinctive."
I frowned. So he was back to flirting? I looked up and down the street. Maybe he only flirted with other women when his awful girlfriend was around. His friend, the rude one from that morning, was bumming a cigarette off the doorman of a very expensive high-rise. Other than that, Brenden was alone and his attention was riveted on me.
"It's kind of crazy running into you," I told him. "I don't get a lot of customers greeting me on the street."
Brenden stepped closer. "People are too busy these days."
"To stop and smell the flowers?" I asked.
"Exactly."
I didn't know what else to say. He couldn't see my smile or the warming blush across my cheeks. How could he instantly make me feel warm all over?
"Well, I don't want to hold you up, Mr. Porter. It looks like you've got somewhere important to be," I said.
"Please, call me Brenden." He tipped an ear towards his friend and his burgeoning argument with the doorman. They vehemently disagreed about some football team. "And it sounds like I'm not in a rush."
"Oh." A quick burst of pleasure spread through me. But it would only be a matter of time before I said something stupid. Brenden had the kind of good looks that made my tongue stumble. What was I doing talking to him?
He cleared his throat and held out a hand. "I'm glad we ran into each other because I want to apologize for this morning."
I hesitated but put my hand in his. "This morning? Nothing happened."
"I was distracted. I hope I wasn't rude." He leaned down and kissed the back of my hand.
If he couldn't see my red cheeks, I thought he would at least feel the heat radiating off me. I pulled back and tucked my hands into the pockets of my ratty coat.
"Thanks. You're never rude," I told him. Then I searched for a way to change the subject. "So, where are you off to?"
Brenden leaned back and pointed all the way to the penthouse. "A fundraiser. Though it's not as boring as it sounds. It's really just a fancy party with lots of chances to give money to a good cause."
"Sounds like fun," I said, still unsure what to say.
Brenden called out past me, "See, Darin? People like fundraisers. They're fun."
Darin took a long drag on his cigarette and said, "she's probably just being nice."
A nervous giggle escaped my lips. "Sorry. Sounds like your date is dragging his feet. Or fundraisers are really boring."
Brenden threw his hands up. "Will no one believe me? I know. Why don't you come with me?"
I laughed and looked down at my outfit. Underneath my ratty coat I was wearing a faded sweatshirt and jeans. "Like this? Do you see what I'm wearing?"
"Hmm, it's kind of hard to make out," he said, pretending to squint at my clothes.
"Oh, sorry--" I clapped my hands over my mouth.
Brenden just smiled. "Nah, it's more fun this way. Now I'm going to guess. If you're not taking a walk in a cocktail dress on the off-chance someone invites you to a fundraiser, then you must be wearing a superhero costume. Am I right?"
"Yes. Barista by day, vigilante by night," I joked.
Brenden laughed. "See? Fundraisers don't have to be boring if the right people are there."
"I'm not going to your fancy party fundraiser in jeans and a sweatshirt," I said.
"Ah, jeans and a sweatshirt. What I wouldn't give to wear something like that every once in a while." He gave a dramatic sigh.
"Why don't you? I thought if you made enough money, no one cared what you wore."
He shook his head. "Now you're talking eccentric millionaire. I guess I'm still just trying to be normal despite this whole thing."
I watched him gesture to his sightless eyes and was glad he didn't shy away from mentioning it. In fact, he seemed relieved when his blindness was the butt of a joke instead of an unspeakable disability.
"Look around." I prodded him in the ribs with my elbow. "You do know having lots of money makes you the opposite of normal these days, right?"
He chuckled. "Who says I have lots of money?"
I snorted. "What? You think I'm the blind one? Your watch is probably worth more than all my belongings."
"My driver once told me I could use this watch to signal helicopter pilots. I just thought it was practical," Brenden said.
I considered his dead-pan face and then poked him in the ribs again. "Ridiculous."
He grinned. We were standing too close. Two more steps and I could fold myself into his camel-hair coat. The urge to get closer was strong enough that I had to force myself to jump back just to catch my breath.
"All right, Brenden. Let's do this thing," Darin called out.
The doorman swept open the entrance to the high-rise and Darin waited for his friend. He watched me with steady, calculating eyes. I edged a little farther away down the sidewalk just to assure myself I wasn't standing too close to his handsome friend.
Handsome. Nice. Rich. In a relationship.
I reminded myself sharply of the girl I had seen Brenden with. I had no right to flirt with him on the sidewalk. Especially when his friend was anything but blind.
Still, I was reluctant to leave and Brenden somehow managed to reach out and catch my hand again.
"Are you sure you don't want to come?" he asked.
"Nah. I'm in sweatshirt and jeans. Obviously I'm too busy for your little event," I joked.
Brenden smiled and kissed the back of my hand again. "Too bad. Will I see you in the morning?"
I stuttered, my mind a sudden rush of suggestions. "What? Where?"
"At the coffee shop," Brenden said. He stepped a little closer. "Maybe when we’re there, I'll get a chance to tell you that you are often the highlight of my mornings."
I pulled my hand free, unwilling to believe he was telling the truth. "Have a nice night, Mr. Porter."
"Brenden," he insisted. "I'm glad I ran into you, Faith. Have a good night."
I watched, amazed, as he navigated the sidewalk. He followed Darin's sarcastic voice to the door of the high-rise and then turned around and waved. Somehow Brenden knew I was still there and he smiled brightly.
The warming effect it had faded as Darin frowned at me again. I took off down the street. I must have looked ridiculous just standing there. Like a scruffy little sparrow admiring tropical birds.
At least I'm not in a cage, I thought fiercely to myself, but that was a lie. I'd never felt so trapped. Outside of work I had nothing but school, and I needed work to support school but I was too tired to do well on my assignments because of all the shifts I took. It was a vicious circle.
Until Brenden smiled at me.
The thought stopped me from jay-walking and I stood frozen, waiting for the light to change. How could running into one random customer take my mind off of everything?
I shook off the thought and concentrated on where I was. I didn't have time for my head to be in the clouds. I was only a few blocks away from my apartment, a cramped little building behind a crumbly gray facade. It was nothing like the polished steel and spotless glass of the high-rise Brenden had entered.
I gritted my teeth and tried again. I had to hurry home so I could make sure my professor received my assignment. I'd stayed up three nights in a row finishing it and now I was worried something had gone wrong. After all, strange things happened all the time.
Like running into a handsome customer that just happened to remember my name. And my scent.
I gave him a few seconds of thought, only to marvel at how keen his other senses were. Brenden might not be able to see, but he didn't miss a thing.
I patted my cooling cheeks and worried he had been able to sense my bright red blushes. Was that even possible? He kept surprising me.
I slowed down and shuffled the closer I got to my apartment. Had I completely embarrassed myself? I cringed at the moment I decided to describe to him what I was wearing. The man had stood in front of me in a tuxedo, his shoes gleaming under the streetlights. I tugged at my sweatshirt. Thank god he hadn't seen my belt; a sad secondhand strip that had at one time been red leather.
I ruffled my hair as if I could shake him out of my thoughts. Then I caught a faint whiff of the coffee shop. Brenden was right; I smelled of coffee. And lilac? One of the reasons I liked that cheap shampoo so much was because it reminded me of my grandmother's garden.
She steadied me. Just the thought of soft spring mornings in my grandmother's garden was enough to get me to take a long, deep breath. I had to look ahead. Plant my seeds and tend my row.
I had to make money and I wanted to finish business school. There wasn't room for anything else in between. I needed to sleep, not wander around the streets fantasizing about a bunch of rich people at a fundraiser.
But first I had to study.
I took another deep breath and pulled open the door of my apartment building. No fancy doorman for me, just a clanging old door that weighed too much. And the bad lighting above the mailboxes.
"Hey, quiet! How's it going?" The bartender that lived below me drifted by smelling of weed and mints.
Brenden had smelled of a comforting spice. Bergamot? Clove? I didn't have his talent for using my senses.
For a minute I stood at my mailbox and thought about the last scents I really remembered. It was really only one—Jake's hair after he'd been in the sun. Like honey and polished wood. One whiff and I would melt into his arms and dip my nose down the slope of his throat. Just breathe him in.
I took the stairs to my apartment but still felt worked up. Since when had I started craving the scent of a man? It was ridiculous. I was just tired and overworked and my body was rebelling. If I took a quick shower I would wake up, maybe have a little coffee. I could study for at least four hours.
It was impossible. I made it as far as the bathroom before I admitted I couldn't walk out on Jake as easily as he walked out on me. Not even the thought of him. I turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up. I missed him. I thought about crying, about how I had somehow failed.
I wouldn't fail school.
So far I was top of my class and I wasn't about to let it go. My success would always stay with me.
Without getting into the shower, I turned off the water. I went back to the kitchen and drank two coffees. No time for self-pity shower sessions. It was time to study.