Enjoying Your Company //

chapter two

Spencer's POV:

"I'm just looking for a copy of Poems, and there's more variety in rarely repeating the same places." I move the phone to my other ear, making my way down the sidewalk.

"Okay, but don't you have a favorite shop? Or like a favorite place to find all your precious crazy books?" Garcia's voice whined through the speaker.

"Garcia, I don't have a favorite anything."

"Not true! Doctor Who, Who's your favorite?"

"4, but-"

"And what's your favorite thing to eat,"

"Thai, but-"

"And who's your favorites, most sexiest, analyst in the whole galaxy?"

"You are."

"See, you do have a favorite something." I turn the street corner, pulling open the door to the 'Bottomless Bookshop', removing my sunglasses.

"Okay, but that doesn't prove I have a favorite place to buy books." I respond, stepping in line to order coffee.

"Hmmm okay, whatever you say, Boy Wonder. Good luck finding your old poetry." Garcia joked, hanging up. I put my hand in my pocket, ordered my coffee, and lankily make my way through aisles of the new store. Perusing each of its lane for my reading endeavor of Poems by Christopher Pearse Cranch. I reach the poetry section, skimming for C, when I stop cold. My gaze tearing towards the elegant woman in a peacoat. Alone, in a antique chair by the far wall. Her long sleeve white turtle neck under a pale plaid dress, dark curly hair with a bottom winter white layer. I was captivated, she was quite literally glowing, ethereally. As I got closer, I could smell her perfume, her hazel coffee, gentle and warm, exactly how she looked.

"Are you staring at me?" Her voice swirled me out of my trance.

"I uh-" I walk over, clearing my throat, "Sorry I was, admiring your choice of literature." She raised a dark trimmed eyebrow, her grey eyes moved to her book, then up at me. "Christopher Cranch, I love his work, actually the whole reason I came in was to get a new copy."

"Me too." I exhaled through my nose, enraptured. She gave a timid simper, breaking down the wall for me to take the open seat beside her.

"Thought is deeper than all speech,
Feeling deeper than all thought:
Souls to souls never can teach-"

"What unto themselves was taught." We say in unison. My jaw dropped slightly, feeling my hand begin to sweat. My chest buzzing as she smirked at me. "Genosis, that's my favorite poem." She tucked a swirled curl behind her ear. I couldn't pull away. Mesmerized in the wake of her rippling excellence.

"Mine too." It practically came out a whisper.

"I'm Vanessa." She lowered the book, offering me her hand. In less than two point two  seconds, with no debate, I took it. Her soft skin in mine causing me to shiver.

"Spencer." I blink sporadically, trying to find my way out of the simping haze. Vanessa smiled, my heart practically leapt from my chest.

"I don't think I've seen you here before." She squinted her eyes adorably, in an attempt to place me.

"No, you haven't. I've never been here before."

"Well you're in luck. Sunday's and Tuesday's, the owners puts out all the books they buy and resell, so there's always new inventory twice a month." She spoke so eloquently, sending my infatuation deeper with every vowel. She had a slight Canadian dialect, adding a sweet tinge to her enchantment. It's my favorite spot to get the newest books fast, as well as some of the oldest and most classic ones too."

"I don't believe in luck. Coming here, meeting a savant, woman, like you." I somehow managed to put that sentence together without stuttering.

"What do you call it, than?"

"Fate." I watch her bite her lower lip, blushing down into her book. "There is. By my leaning over the precipice. Of your presence and your absence in hopeless fusion. My finding the secret, Of loving you, Always for the first time." I fell breathless watching her grey teal eyes sparkling with enticed fascination.

"Wow," She hushed. It was as if the whole world had fallen away, and it was only us, lost in each other. "You got any more top of the line poetry to share?" She swooned, leaning her chin in her hand with a glazed stare.

"I've got dozens."

"Dozens?" She conjured a flirty smile.

"Oh, I-I can go on for hours. That was actually a bad question for you to ask me." She laughed, I made her laugh. I release a nervous chuckle, thrifting through my mental file cabinet for something else to say.

"Why don't you recite some more. Say, over dinner?"

"Dinner? I- yeah," I clear my throat. "I-I'd like that." Vanessa's smile gripped my heart. She took out a pen, wrote something down in the front of her book, and handed it to me. On the inner facing page was her phone number followed by three small x's, and her name.

"Call me, Spencer, I'll be waiting." She grabbed her purse & styrofoam cup, leaving the chair. 

"Wait. What about your book?" She turned around, taking a few backwards steps.

"You can give it back when you meet me for our date." Vanessa smiled, waving, walking out the aisle, and out of sight.

Okay...out of all the places I visit, I guess there is one I favorite.