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Definite Possibility by Maggie Cummings (5)

Chapter Five

 
 
 

Three days later Sam stood at the end of the line that stretched from the coffee counter and curved along the interior of Lucy’s store. It amazed her that she’d held out this long before coming back, but she’d been bogged down with projects, and while working from home usually gave her the luxury to blaze along quickly, her newly retired parents’ constant interruptions were seriously slowing her down. Today she’d decided to set up shop at one of the local public libraries. She’d picked the South Beach branch, telling herself that she liked its proximity to the water, but she knew that the real reason was its location just around the corner from Lucy’s Coffee Bar, giving her a perfect excuse to stop in.

There were at least ten people in front of her, but with her height advantage Sam still had a great view of Lucy working the commuter rush. She zipped around in yoga pants, her hair pulled up, smiling from customer to customer. Sam couldn’t wait for her turn. Did she flirt with everyone? She told herself she didn’t care but felt a twinge of random jealousy anyway. Her phone vibrated in her pocket diverting her attention. Blynn Hughes, her project manager. Huh. It was a bit early for work still and Sam couldn’t help but wonder if the call was business or pleasure.

“Slow down, Blynn. I can hardly understand you.” Sam jumped off the line and reached for her tablet as she listened. She slid into a seat at a table in the corner, fiddled for a pen and a scrap of paper, signing on and jotting notes while her boss barked orders.

“How much time do I have?” Sam checked her watch as she listened and worked, her attention equally divided. “All right. Relax. I’m on it. I’ll text you when I have something ready.”

Her coffee sidelined, Sam slipped right into work mode scanning her files and locating the design she knew would work for the client’s ad campaign. The artwork she’d created used an image of a blue butterfly, crafted from a picture she’d taken years ago in her grandmother’s yard. She still remembered the day, early in the spring, the sky crisp and bright. Sam had been confident in this choice all along, but new clients always thought they knew better. Typical, but it was nothing new making changes in the eleventh hour. She shook her head but smiled to herself, kind of enjoying the rush of pressure as she made some last-minute tweaks before firing off the final version to Blynn.

Waiting for feedback, she opened the company calendar. Dalton Medical was in Connecticut. That meant a definite road trip in the next few weeks. She felt a surge at the thought. She and Blynn—F. Blynn Hughes, when she was being formal—had a fantastic working relationship. One that was outmatched only by their incredible sexual chemistry. Their fling began in Paris after her relationship with Julie had ended for good. In no rush to come home with her tail between her legs, Sam had put her name in the hat for every travel assignment available.

Projects in London, Dubai, Istanbul, and Prague followed, and the mutual attraction held up. The setup was perfect. Strictly business during the day, clandestine hookups after hours. Road trips were spent text-flirting until the sun went down, when they reconvened in Blynn’s hotel room for unbelievable, commitment-free sex. Sam never stayed over. Blynn never asked. It was exactly what the doctor ordered. The last thing Sam wanted was a relationship—she was still nursing her ego over her failed romance with Julie. Once or twice she felt a slight pang of guilt over the superficiality of their situation. It was never enough to stop her from coming back, and where the parameters of their arrangement were concerned, surely Blynn had her own reasons, whatever they might be. It hardly mattered. In her mind, they were both winning.

She shifted in her seat. Way overdue, she caught herself getting charged up just thinking about getting laid. With no warning, a vision of kissing Lucy against the coffee counter popped into her head. She blinked quickly, forcing the image out of her mind. She cracked her knuckles and pulled up a project to occupy herself while she waited for Blynn’s response.

“Here.”

Sam jumped at Lucy’s voice.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Lucy rubbed Sam’s shoulder gently as she placed a lidded paper cup on the table. Sam noticed her checking a look at the line, which was still backed up to the front door. She nodded at Sam’s coffee. “I went with the to-go option because I wasn’t sure if you needed to be somewhere. Please don’t take it the wrong way. You just looked busy—I didn’t want to bother you. Stay as long as you like.” When Lucy looked at Sam, her eyes were sweet and sincere, and Sam knew she was staring back.

Quickly she pulled herself together and found her manners. “Thank you for the coffee,” she said, digging into her pocket for cash.

“Relax, hon. We’ll work it out later.”

Hon. Two times now Lucy had called her that. On both occasions, it had given her a rush. She was being ridiculous, thinking like a teenager. She probably calls everyone that, she thought, reminding herself to keep her libido in check and stop searching for things that were probably not there.

“You need the Wi-Fi?”

“I’m already on it.”

“Good.” Lucy took a step backward toward the counter. “Back to work,” she ordered, adding a quick wink before she turned around.

That was something. Right? She let herself revel in the possibility for a moment before diving back into work.

For the next three hours Sam made real progress on two assignments whose deadlines were still weeks away. She pushed her laptop forward, stretched her arms over her head, and looked around the coffee house. It was quieter now, no lines, the commuters already at work. Patrons still filtered in and out, and a few tables were occupied by people like herself—on their computers, doing work, or writing papers, Sam figured, based on their ages. With her work finished, she looked around but didn’t see Lucy anywhere. She played with some pet projects but there was still no sign of the owner, so she packed it in for the day. Putting away her belongings, she took stock of just how much she had accomplished in a short time frame. Working here beat her parents’ house by a mile. She acknowledged the thought internally as she set up a plan for tomorrow, as though she needed any convincing to come back.

 

*****

 

At ten twenty Sam took a break from a very technical and detailed layout to quickly sketch out an idea in her notepad. She was completely in her own world.

“Hey stud.” One of Lucy’s workers appeared next to her, a plate in her hand. The dark-haired girl winked and gave her a salacious once-over. “The boss wanted me to bring this to you.” She placed the plate in an empty space on the table. “It’s her famous banana bread.” She rubbed the tattoos lining her forearm. “But, you know, if she’s not your type, I’m single. Just so you know.”

Sam tipped her head down but was spared a response when Lucy appeared. “That’s quite enough, Raven.” She dismissed the girl with a pat on her shoulder and took the seat across from Sam. “How’s work?” she asked nodding at Sam’s things.

“Fine. Good.” She reached in her pocket and took out her money clip, fishing through for small bills. “Thank you for breakfast.”

Lucy waved her off. “I don’t want your money.”

“I never even paid you for yesterday’s coffee.”

Lucy folded her arms and leaned forward. “Yes, you did. With the ridiculous tip you left. You more than paid for your coffee.”

“Look, I stayed here for hours, used your wireless, your bathroom, got a break from Mom and Dad. Believe me, I owed you something for your hospitality.”

Inching the plate closer to Sam she said, “Come on, eat.” She was staring at the sketch. “What’s that?”

“Something new I’m playing around with.”

“Is it a wolf?”

Sam laughed. “Yes, it is.”

“I’m intrigued,” Lucy said, clearly waiting for Sam to elaborate.

“I’m friends with these girls, sisters actually, who are just trying to break into the craft beer world. Their last name is Wolfe. I thought this could be a logo or a label or something.”

“You’re an artist?”

“Graphic designer.”

“For a beer company?”

“No.” She shook her head. “This is, these girls are my friends.” She broke off an edge of the bread. “In real life I work for a global corporation. Tekrant Industries. They’re the parent company for a million different businesses whose products you probably have all over your house or here.” Sam looked around the shop for emphasis. “But this”—she motioned toward her drawing—“this is just for fun. They’re just getting started. They have no money to spend on advertising and design.” She popped the piece of bread in her mouth. “I figured if I could help them out, why not?” She swallowed quickly, reaching for another bite right away. “Wow, that’s good.”

Lucy smiled. “I don’t want to keep you from your work. I just wanted to say hi.” She eyed Sam’s coffee mug. “Refill?”

It was the last thing she needed, more caffeine. She was high on adrenaline from this tiny conversation. “Absolutely.”

“I’ll bring some right over.” Lucy stood and squeezed Sam’s shoulder as she passed. It took every ounce of willpower in Sam’s entire body not to reach for her hand and beg her to stay.

 

*****

 

On day three, Sam stood in front of her vanity for a full fifteen minutes to get her hair absolutely perfect. She smoothed the front of her button-down and tucked it loosely into her perfectly antiqued jeans. She was ahead on all her assignments and barely had any work to do, but she wasn’t about to let that keep her from Lucy’s.

The store had its regular morning rush, and after she picked up her coffee and settled into her favorite table, she let herself get entrenched in Bay West’s website. She did a thorough assessment, making mental notes the whole time. This was going to be a blast to play around with. At almost eleven, she found herself scanning the store in search of Lucy.

“She’s at Pilates,” Raven said from two tables away, clearing away the garbage of a particularly messy customer.

“Huh, what?” Sam tried to sound as though she hadn’t been caught looking.

Raven’s dramatic eye roll told her she didn’t buy it. “Settle down. She’ll be back in a little bit.”

Nearly an hour later, Sam was deep in code when the front door bell jingled loudly, grabbing her attention. She popped her head up as Lucy sauntered in. She had on new clothes—jeans and a navy tee—and her wet hair was pulled up in a tight bun. In her hand she carried a brown paper bag. Sam watched as she disappeared into the back momentarily before returning with two plates of food. She had a bottle of water under each arm. With her chin, she nodded at Sam’s setup. “Share the table with me?”

“What’s this?” Sam asked as she cleared away her laptop and tablet. She checked out the plate Lucy slid in front of her.

Lucy opened her water and took a sip. “Raven told me you haven’t eaten a thing all day. This wrap is too big for one person. We can share it.” Lucy gave a glance toward her employee currently manning the counter.

“Seriously, her name is Raven?” Sam stole a grape from the small cluster on her plate. “That can’t be real. I saw the tattoo on her arm,” she whispered. “That’s just what she chooses to call herself, right?”

“No. Real name.” Lucy lifted her eyebrows as she took the first bite of wrap. She swallowed quickly. “That’s who I make her check out to and everything.”

Sam watched Lucy’s delicate mouth as she chewed. She let her voice lilt showing her suspicion. “Her parents named her Raven? And she just happens to look like that, with the jet-black hair, heavy makeup, and goth style.” She shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”

“Well”—Lucy wiped her mouth gently with a paper napkin—“if you ask her, she says she named herself. In the womb.” She placed her wrap on the plate. “Her parents are very spiritual.”

Sam dropped her chin and looked right at Lucy. “You don’t believe that.”

“Eh, maybe. What do I know?” Lucy picked at a strand of arugula hanging out of her sandwich, tilted her head back, and dropped it in her mouth, shrugging playfully as she chewed. “All I can tell you is for twenty-three, she’s incredibly responsible. And she’s a fantastic baker. She teaches me stuff all the time.” She nodded at Sam’s plate. “Come on, eat.”

“I’m not eating your lunch.”

“Well, I don’t waste food. So if you’re not going to eat it, I’ll give it to someone else.”

“You eat it.”

“It’s too big.” Lucy looked marginally disappointed at her refusal. “I guess I could save half for tomorrow.” She looked up and her eyes were begging as she laid it on thick. “Come on, Sam, take pity on me. I just want to have a meal and some nice conversation with another adult for a change. Look around, it’s all college kids waiting for their next class.” She pouted playfully. “And if you think this is bad, wait until three o’clock. That’s when the high-schoolers take over.”

“Okay. Okay.” Sam reached for the wrap. “One condition. Let me take you for a drink later.”

There was an uncomfortable silence and Lucy scrunched up her nose. Swing and a miss. Sam was bummed, but she tried to play it off. “Please tell me it’s because you don’t drink,” she joked.

“I don’t.”

“You don’t what?” Sam asked.

“I don’t drink.”

“At all?”

Lucy confirmed with a nod as she sipped her water. As much as she wished it didn’t, Sam knew her surprise showed. The news shouldn’t be that shocking, but truthfully she didn’t know anyone who didn’t drink at all, even socially.

She tried to recover. “How about dinner then? I know you eat.” She peered at Lucy’s wrap playfully for emphasis.

Lucy put down her water and looked right at Sam, seriousness etched in every line on her face. “How about this. Lunch again, tomorrow. Here. You buy.”

It was not quite the date Sam was hoping for, but it wasn’t a total loss either.

“No meat,” Lucy added last minute.

“Deal.”