7
A
unt Maude and I met with Rachel Ellis the following morning. I'm not sure what I expected, but this girl didn't look a day over seventeen. Very slim, almost to the point of looking gaunt, she was wearing a faded pair of shorts and a blouse. Thick, mahogany-colored hair was pulled back at the base of her neck and secured with a scrunchie. But when she walked in the kitchen and greeted us, a smile lit up her face, transforming her drabness into borderline pretty.
“Hi,” she said, extending her hand. “I'm Rachel Ellis.”
“It's nice to meet you,” my aunt told her. “Have a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee or tea?”
“Oh, no, thank you.”
I let my aunt begin the interview and heard her say, “So you just recently moved to Cedar Key, Ali told me. Where is it that you lived before?”
“Down by Miami.”
“I see. This is such an obscure little island. Do you have family here?”
“Oh, no, actually I really don't know a soul here.”
I could see it was going to be like pulling teeth to get much information from her. “Are you here alone? Or with a husband?”
It was then that I noticed she was beginning to squirm in her chair, avoiding eye contact with me.
“No, I'm, ah ... divorced. But I have a six-year-old son. Max started first grade here last week.”
“Oh, how nice,” my aunt said. “Well, I hope you'll both like it here. Okay, so you have experience cleaning? I need somebody once a week to clean my apartment. I'm not fussy which day, so whatever will be more convenient for you. Then we'll need you to clean the carriage house in the garden every Monday after the weekend knitting retreats. Would that work out for you?”
“Oh, yes, that would be great, and I could do your apartment every Friday. I could drop Max at school and come directly here.”
I noticed she didn't answer the question about experience. “Do you have references from previous cleaning jobs that you had?”
Her squirming now became more noticeable, and she fingered the edge of the tablecloth.
“Um ... well ... No, I'm afraid I don't. I need to be honest with you. I've never actually worked for somebody else doing cleaning. But I've taken care of my own house, and I'm an excellent housekeeper. I also learn very fast, and I really, really need this job.”
My heart went out to her. In this economy many people were desperate for work. Any type of work that supplied some kind of paycheck. I looked at my aunt.
“Well,” she said. “You certainly sound motivated, and that's an excellent trait to have. If it's okay with my niece here, I'd like to offer you the position. Why don't we say you'll be on a three-month trial basis? Maybe you could begin this Friday cleaning my apartment. We're going to be having workmen in the carriage house for a while, but then perhaps you could help us with getting everything arranged in there. We're thinking we'll be ready to begin the knitting retreats after the holidays in January.”
Rachel was staring at me waiting for my answer. “I agree,” I told her. “I think a three-month probation is fair.”
“Oh, so do I. That's fine with me. I'll do a good job. I really will, and thank you ever so much.”
Yeah, I'd lost everything in a fire, but I knew how fortunate I was to have Aunt Maude to help me through a bad time. It was obvious this poor girl had nobody. The gratitude she displayed for a simple cleaning job made me realize there's always somebody else that has it much worse.
“That's wonderful,” Aunt Maude said, sliding a paper across the table. “If you'll just fill this out with your name and address and phone number, we'll be all set.”
The excitement vanished from Rachel's face. She looked down at the paper and hesitantly picked up the pen to fill out the information. Not wanting to make her more nervous, I got up.
“I think I'll have another cup of coffee. Aunt Maude, how about you?”
“That sounds great, and I think I'll help myself to one of those delicious muffins I baked this morning. Are you sure we can't interest you, Rachel?”
Her head popped up from the paper. “Oh, no. Thank you, anyway.”
My aunt followed me to the counter and we both remained silent.
I poured two mugs of coffee while my aunt got her muffin. Settling ourselves at the table, I told her about Lucas's plan to turn the extra room at the bookshop into a coffee café.
“What a marvelous idea.”
“Yeah, and he asked if I'd help him with the design and ordering some of the equipment he'll need. You know, because I had my own coffee shop.”
My aunt laughed. “Right, Gracie. I'm sure that's the only reason he asked for your help.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I think he's attracted to you.”
Before I could reply Rachel passed the paper to my aunt.
“Oh, you're staying at the RV park out on SR Twenty-four?”
“Yeah, for right now, anyway. Max and I drove here in our travel trailer, so it made sense staying at the park.”
My aunt nodded. “Do you have a cell phone? You didn't list any phone number.”
“No, I'm sorry. I don't.”
She probably couldn't afford one. “Well, if we needed to reach you we could call the office at the RV park. Right, Aunt Maude?”
“Yes, of course. That won't be a problem.”
“Oh, good. Then I'll see you at nine Friday morning?”
Maude nodded. “That will be great, and I look forward to seeing you then.”
Rachel turned toward the door to leave and then stopped. Turning around, she said, “Thank you both so much. I really appreciate you giving me a chance. Bye.”
I got up to watch her leave. She actually skipped her way along the walkway to the curb. It was then that I noticed the beat-up travel trailer. She opened the door on the driver's side, got in, and started the ignition. Yup, some people did have it pretty bad. The only means of transportation this poor girl had was also her place of residence.
Â
“Hello,” I hollered, walking into the bookshop later that afternoon.
Lucas appeared from the backâthat killer smile of his causing my stomach to flip-flop. This guy sure had a way of nudging up my desire meter.
“Bonjour,”
he greeted me, and I almost expected the cosmopolitan kiss on both cheeks, which, of course, was not forthcoming.
“How are you this afternoon?” he inquired.
“Fine, and you?”
Was it my imagination or had his eyes scanned me from head to foot, thereby increasing his smile?
“I'm good, very good.”
I had to stop myself from saying,
I'm very glad,
and I suppressed a giggle when I realized we seemed to be indulging in an overly polite greeting. “Well, if you're not busy, I thought maybe we could discuss the plans for your coffee café.”
Clearing his throat, Lucas gestured toward the new room. “That sounds good. There's a table in here.”
“Great,” I said, following him and not missing the fact that this man really looked great in jeans.
I saw that he'd also set up another table, which held a coffeemaker and ... were those croissants?
“Would you like some coffee and croissants while we talk?”
Oh, yeah, definitely a man after my own heart. When it came to France, there were four things I could never resistâwine, coffee, chocolate, and croissants.
“How nice,” I said. Not possessing an ounce of shyness, I proceeded to place the buttery, delectable crescent on a plate before pouring myself a cup of coffee.
Lucas did the same and then joined me at the table.
I took a bite of the heavenly roll, closed my eyes for a second to allow my palate to experience the exquisite pleasure, and oh, God! I think I actually
moaned
.
Lucas laughed, and my eyes flew open as I felt my cheeks heating up. Cripe, I felt like I'd shared an intimate moment with him.
Covering my embarrassment, I joined his laughter. “My God, that is
so
good! And I know you brought those back from France.”
“I did.” His smile widened. “And I'm very pleased to see that you enjoy it so much.”
He
was
referring to the croissants, right?
“Oh, I do,” I said, and then took a sip of coffee. While I didn't exhibit the same reaction that the croissants had caused, I nodded. “And the coffee is delicious too.”
“Good. Well, what do you suggest we do with this empty room?”
We?
Silly me, but I really liked the sound of that.
“Hmm,” I said, looking around. An instant vision came to me. “I think you want to create a cozy atmosphere. You know, a place that will not only beckon people to purchase coffee but cause them to want to stay awhile. Spend some time here socializing and feeling comfortable.”
“Ah, much like your place was.”
“Well, yes, I suppose so. But this is
your
place, so don't let me take away whatever vision you might have.”
“That's just it. My area of expertise is running a bookshop. I can do that quite well, but a coffee café? I'm afraid this is where I'm relying on you.”
Really? Well, be my guest to rely away
.
I took another bite of croissant and refrained from any further outburst while I gave my vision some more thought.
“You have a great window and shelf over there,” I said, pointing to the front of the room. “It might be nice to set up a coffee display. Some brightly colors mugs, maybe a French press. Oh, will you also be serving tea?”
“What do you think?”
I recalled the day that Lucas had first walked into my coffee shop. It wasn't coffee that he orderedâit was a cup of tea.
“Yes, I think offering tea is a good choice. So you could also display some teapots with an unusual design. On one of your trips back to France, you won't have any problem finding a few of those.”
“That sounds good.”
“I think maybe you should have a long wooden counter built back there,” I said, pointing to the back of the room. “This is where your patrons will order the coffee. And you'll need to have some small tables with four chairs. I'd arrange those against the wall, because you also want to have some cushy seating in the middle. A few love seats, maybe some chairs like you have in the bookshop.”
“I like it,” Lucas said. “I can visualize it and, yes, I like it very much. What do you think about decorating? What décor should I use?”
“Well, since you're French, why not go with black and white for colors? On the walls, maybe you could hang some prints of French scenery or maps?”
“Yes, yes. I like that as well. And equipment? What, exactly, will I need to order?”
“Oh, darn,” I said. “I have catalogs and I meant to bring them with me. I'll make a note so I don't forget.”
I reached across the table for the pen and paper at the same time that Lucas did, and our hands touched. I swear I felt an electric jolt travel through my arm. I glanced up to see his dark eyes on my face, and neither one of us released our hands from each other.
Lucas smiled. “Sorry,” he said, slowly pulling his hand away. “Here, you can use the paper and pen. Let me get another one.”
He got up quickly and headed into the bookshop. God, what was that all about? I couldn't ever recall touching a man's hand and experiencing a reaction like that.
“Okay,” he said, coming to sit back down. “I'll also make a few notes.”
I looked at his curly head bent over the paper as he wrote, and this time I was certain we felt a mutual chemistry.
“Very good. I think we've accomplished a lot, but I'd really like to see that catalog so I can get the needed equipment ordered. Is there ... is there any chance you might be free this evening for dinner? And you could bring the catalog so we could discuss it?”
Oh. My. God. Was he asking me out on a date?
Don't be foolish
, I thought,
it's simply a business meeting.
“Ah, no. I mean, yes, I'm free.... I don't have any plans this evening.”
“Great,” he said, standing up, and I got the distinct impression that
this
meeting was over. “Is the Island Room okay? I can call there to reserve a table.”
I also stood up and reached for my bag. “Yes, that would be fine. What time should I meet you there?”