Covering Kendall(4)

“I didn’t have a lot of setbacks in life, so I had to come up with my own motivation, but yes. I think so. I’m working in a job I really enjoy, and I like to think I’ve helped others achieve their goals as well. What about you? Do you believe you’ve succeeded in the things you’ve set out to do?” Kendall said.

She was surprised at Drew’s questions. Most guys might be asking about her hobbies (besides reading, she really didn’t have a lot), if she’d been on vacation lately, or about her relationship status. He seemed more interested in finding out who she was. She’d like to find out a few things about him, most especially why she had the nagging feeling that she’d seen him before. Somewhere, somehow, she knew who he was, and she couldn’t quite remember.

Maybe she was having one of those déjà vu moments. She’d read about the chemical in the brain that made a person feel like they’d been somewhere before and they really hadn’t. She took another bite of the chocolate caramel bar. She’d be doing some extra time in the gym for it, but maybe she should get one to-go for later.

The Starbucks employees were zipping around the coffee shop, most likely doing their pre-closing responsibilities, and ignoring Kendall and Drew. He laid one big hand on the table between them and leaned back in his chair as he looked into her eyes.

“To answer your question, I have to say that I am happy with what I’ve attained so far, but there’s always more.” He inched his hand a bit closer to hers. She had an almost overwhelming urge to lace her fingers through his. “There are plenty of things I’d still like to achieve.”

What was she doing? They’d met a couple of hours ago. She didn’t know anything but his first name. The spark of attraction between them was almost overpowering. She remembered how his big, warm hand felt when he shook hers. She wanted more.

She snapped out of her reverie as he said, “The book sounds interesting. Maybe I should grab a copy before they close up for the night next door.”

At that moment, one of the coffee shop employees clicked the locks shut on the glass doors that separated the coffee shop from the bookstore. The bookstore lights dimmed too. “Last call,” one of the baristas joked. “Can we get anything else for either of you?”

“I guess this means I’m not buying that book right now,” Drew murmured to Kendall.

“Would you like to borrow my copy? It’s in my hotel room. I’d be happy to get it for you,” she said.

“I would love that,” he said. “Plus, I can walk you home.” He glanced out of the panoramic coffee shop windows into the parking lot. “Is there anything else you’d like to drink or eat before we leave?”

Kendall caught the eye of one of the employees behind the counter. “Are there any more of those chocolate caramel bars at all?”

The employee smiled at her. “Welcome to your new worst habit. I’m in love with them too. How many would you like?”

“How about two more?” Drew responded, and he had his wallet out before Kendall could object.

“I can get it,” she said.

“You’re letting me borrow your book,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.” He handed the barista some cash and handed the two small paper bags to Kendall to stow in her handbag. “A midnight snack,” he said.

“Thank you.” She pulled up the hood on her jacket and indicated the still-trashed umbrella outside the front door. “That’s mine. I don’t know if it’s going to work,” she said.

He glanced out of the window toward the parking lot. “The rain isn’t letting up, Kendall. I think it’s actually getting worse. Where are you staying?”

“I’m at the Westin. It’s only a block or so. I’ll be fine.”

She was going to be soaked by the time she got there, but she was glad she’d forced herself out of the room for a while.

“Let me see if I can fix that umbrella for you.” They stepped outside, and she handed the shell of her formerly intact black umbrella to him. A path ran directly to the hotel from here, but there was going to be a drenching on the way. He didn’t seem alarmed by this. He managed to reconstruct most of the umbrella and handed it to her before he re-zipped his jacket. “We’re going to have to run, but we’ll make it,” he said. He re-opened the door and stuck his head inside.

“Good night,” he called out to the employees still working.

“Good night,” the barista shouted back. “Go Sharks.”

He smiled. Maybe this was an unusually team-oriented coffee shop.