"My best week was over six thousand for three dates. Usually it's less, but the money is good. Makes life easy. No more struggling. You're from the South, right?"
"Yeah, Alabama. It's why I'm here in New York. Not much money to be made down there. I miss my family, but it's tough being single."
"No kidding! I'm from Georgia. Definitely know what you're talking about."
***
Cassidy was up at first light when the weekend rolled in. She had never been more eager to report back to the coffee shop. She whistled as she showered and changed into her uniform. The day felt like it held a promise of something exciting, even as the familiar sound of a siren wailing in the distance pervaded her senses. The sun held court over azure skies with wisps of white clouds hanging in the horizon.
"It's a beautiful day," Cassidy grinned as she took her place on the bus that was hauling her off to work.
"Good morning, Ron," she cheerily hailed as she breezed in through the door of the café.
"You're looking very perky this morning," Ron teased.
She headed straight for the bulletin board where the staff had made a habit of sticking Post-It note messages. She scanned the small pieces of paper, but didn't find any with her name on it. No, there were no new messages for her these last two days. She tried to fight the feeling of disappointment. Maybe Tristan came and saw she wasn't around. Did he mention her name to any of the crew?
She sidled casually towards her boss.
"Anything exciting happen while I was gone?" she asked casually. Too casually.
Ron looked up from the morning paper, shook his head absentmindedly, and then resumed reading.
Cassidy sighed. He could do better, but he was preoccupied with the goddamned weather report.
"Umm … err … the usual patrons came around?" she tried again.
"Oh, yeah," Ron mumbled, his face still buried in the news.
Cassidy searched for a way to fish for more information. If Tristan came around, then Ron would have noticed. He wasn't the "usual patron." However, she was dying to know for sure and blurted, "Ron, did anyone come by asking for me the past two days?"
Ron finally looked up from his paper, his eyes moving upward in thought before answering, "No. I don't think so. I closed at 6:00 p.m. last Thursday and then again last night."
Cassidy's face noticeably fell.
"Why? Were you expecting anyone?"
"No!" The word came out too fast and too intensely.
She tried for a more indifferent reply.
"No … not really."
She tried to hide the disappointment on her face by turning to face the café‘s entrance, then heard the rustling of the newspaper as Ron folded it away.
"The guy who sent you the flowers and the enormous tip?"
She nodded her head as her shoulders slumped dejectedly. There was no use hiding the truth from Ron. He could read her like a book. He often joked that it was wisdom that came with age.
Ron approached and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.
"He might still show up. You never know, Cass," he tried to comfort her.
But Cassidy knew the truth. She could never lie to herself. She would never see Tristan again and what happened three nights ago was a mere coincidence. A stroke of luck. A fluke. Fate mocked her and made her believe her mundane life was headed in another direction. Lady luck added insult to injury and threw her some scraps. Like a stupid dog, she hoped the rest of the steak would follow.
You are such a dimwit, she chided herself.
Chapter Three
"Thanks, Cassidy. G'night."
Cassidy waved her hand in farewell as the last customer headed out the door. She was glad to close early tonight. It would give her a chance to do her laundry, but first she had to drop by the all-night market and pick up a few things on her way home. Her equilibrium had been restored after two days of moping around and looking like a lost puppy.
Get over it … she scolded herself each time her thoughts brought her back to Tristan and all her silly expectations.
She quickly changed into her street clothes, ditching her café uniform in favor of a pair of jeans, a floral belly shirt that showed a sliver of mocha skin, and a pair of white sneakers. Before turning off all the lights, she remembered to tick off the supplies that Ron needed to order from the commissary the next morning. When she was confident she hadn't forgotten anything, she headed out the door.
Traffic was light and there was still some daylight left, but the cool breeze forewarned that rain might come later in the evening. Cassidy headed towards the corner, wanting to cross the street, and she waited for the light to turn red before stepping down off the curb. She shrieked in fright as a silver BMW came careening towards her, making her leap back onto the sidewalk. The car came to a full stop right in front of her.
Cassidy let loose a mouthful of expletives.
"You fucking asshole! Fucking idiot! Are you blind, you son of a bitch? Who taught you how to drive, Helen Keller? Useless piece of shit!"
She saw her faint reflection in the heavily-tinted window as she was cursing the driver. She would have given the expensive monstrosity a hard kick just for effect, but the window slowly lowered to reveal the driver of the car.
Recognition came fast as the rest of the words stuck in her throat.
"You!" Cassidy gasped in disbelief at the face she thought would never see again.
Tristan was grinning at her from the driver's seat with the same disheveled hair. Doesn't he own a comb? The silly thought flashed through her brain.
"Hi!" Tristan greeted her with a warm smile. "Get in," he urged her, motioning towards the passenger seat.
Cassidy wanted to stomp her feet in annoyance and keep walking. She realized how childish that would look, however, so she immediately stifled the impulse as she stood there, unsure what to do. The cacophony of honking horns from irritated drivers propelled her decision. She dashed towards the passenger door, opened it, and got in. She opted to look straight ahead and maintain a stony silence.
"I'm sorry if I scared you that way."
Silence.
"I just wanted to catch you before you crossed the street, that‘s all."
More silence accompanied by rolling eyes.
"I passed by the coffee shop and saw it was closed. I was hoping to find you there. Then I saw you were about to cross the street."
She wasn't ready to say anything yet. She really didn't know what to say to him, but her heart was fluttering wildly inside her chest. He had been rushing to see her.
"If you crossed the street before I got to you, the next turn is three blocks away. You would have been gone by the time I got back."
"So … you decided to run me over instead?" she asked heatedly.
"No! No, of course not. I'm sorry if I scared you. I am everything you called me. I'm an asshole and an idiot. Also a real son of a bitch. Oh, and useless piece of shit." With a wink he added, "And, yes, Helen Keller taught my Driver‘s Education class."
Cassidy couldn't ignore the amusement in his voice. A grin was begging to be let loose on her face.
"Okay, so I overreacted," she began, "but it's not every day that a flashy BMW comes hurtling towards me."
"Can I take you out to dinner to make up for my lack of consideration for your well-being?" Tristan smiled warmly.
Cassidy was taken by surprise by the sudden invitation. He sounded like a true gentleman saying those words. And now that she had time to cool down and compose herself, she had to admit that she was thrilled to see him again. It was the last thing she'd expected to happen tonight.
"Well … okay. Nothing fancy, though," she smiled back. "I'm not exactly dressed for anything more than a hotdog and a coke."
"Will you settle for a pizza instead?" Tristan smirked.
Cassidy nodded. She would settle for cat food if he offered, because right now it felt heavenly just being with him.
He drove defensively and skillfully, expertly dodging traffic until he slowed down and came to a stop in a park near Lincoln Center. Cassidy stepped out and breathed in the cool evening air. They walked through the cobblestone pavement that crisscrossed under tall cedar trees with metal chairs strewn here and there were occupied by folks eating alfresco. A live band was playing nearby. Street vendors hawked flowers and an odd assortment of knick-knacks.
This was what drew Cassidy to New York. It was a city that was so full of life; so vibrant, with its melting pot of strange and weird creatures. Tristan stopped by a red food truck, greeted the owner, and ordered a medium pepperoni pizza along with a pitcher of soda. Then he led her towards a wooden table and politely pulled out a chair while gesturing for her to sit.