After a tragedy, Amila Johnson abandons her life in New York and retreats back to her birthplace of Houston. She tries to start anew but she can't get far with the skills of being an almost classically trained ballerina.
Deciding to take up her fri...
"You mean you had a boyfriend that fine...." Deja said, stealing another look over her shoulder at the man. "...and didn't tell me. I thought we were best friends."
Amila shook her head with a playful uptick of her mouth as she restocked the warm mugs fresh from the dishwasher. She kept her back to Dominic not needing to let her eyes examine him. She knew every inch of his face and then some. A shiver slinked down her back prompting her to roll her shoulder. He was fine, attractive, and other words that didn't describe the beauty of his appeal. She slow sat the maroon mug on the floating shelf trying desperately to push those images, memories, and feeling back in the room she locked them in.
"We are BFFs." She spoke the alphabets that were a staple between them when they were seniors joking in the hallowed halls of Pinehill Private Academy."...And he wasn't my boyfriend. We only had one date. One date over a year ago. Nothing serious."
"You sure?" Deja asked as if she already knew the answer. She leaned against the counter taking a break from downing her duty of cleaning the machinery that had created thousands of lattes and cappuccinos. "Because when he asked 'what's good here' I don't think he was referring to the avocado toast and mocha latte. You should—"
Before Deja could finish telling her what she should do Keaton strolled over after studying Dominic as he sat at a table by the window nursing a coffee with his phone in his other hand.
The retired soccer player turned business owner stopped his stride by them and slipped his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "We close in twenty minutes."
"We know." Deja narrowed her eyes but kept her sight on her friend. "We close at nine every Monday thru Friday, Keaton." She sharply enunciated every syllable of his name resuming her task.
He clenched his jaw letting his chest rise from the deep breath he took in then sighed. "Amila, you're doing a good job and I'm very appreciative but can you make sure the label on all the cups are facing out."
Amila didn't know what was going on between the two of them but they'd been that way all day. Deja drained all the fun and personality out of her words and avoided looking at him while he took in more oxygen that one person could need and gave Amila a compliment.
Amila didn't address the strange, tense energy that swelled around them behind the counter; she just gave him a quick nod and an easy 'sure' before turning the two mugs that were facing the wrong way.
"Deja Vu." Amila sang the nickname she always used before asking her friend something serious or personal or as of late for a favor. Her friend stayed busy wiping down the steaming but she knew she was that concerned with the shininess of the equipment with how rough she rubbed it. "What's going on between—"
"Nothing." Deja quickly proclaimed, cutting her off. "Can you do me a favor?" She didn't wait for Amila to give her an answer before continuing. "Can you tell your boyfriend we're closing so I can put that cup in the dishwasher and go to sleep?"
There was so much wrong with the statement that Amila's eyes narrowed and she addressed the biggest lie that it harbored. "You don't go to sleep before midnight."
Deja let out an exasperated breath. "Mila, please."
"Yeah." Amila placed the last cup on the shelf waiting to investigate the change of her friend's disposition a little further but didn't want to push too much. She owned her that courtesy since she didn't push, shake, or shove her while she was going through her own issues and loss.
Amila tucked the clump of bang that had grown too long to rest over her eyebrows but not long enough to fit in her ponytail behind her ear. Once she moved away from the enclosure behind the counter she second-guessed her choice and flicked it out. As she neared his table she thought about tucking the glossing strands back and stuffed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans instead. She released an uneasy breath that couldn't be detached by the eyes of others but there wasn't anyone staring at her. It was just her in her head as she rounded a table and planted in feet near that table he sat at.
"We're closing." She blurted the words out before he registered her presence. She darted her eyes over her shoulder as his head begun to lift, feigning interest in what was going on behind her as if she couldn't hear Deja clicking and clunking.
There was a limit to how long someone could glance over their shoulder to ensure it remained a glance and not a stare but the heat of his eyes upon her skin halted her from turning back his way. The delicate hairs along her forearms rose more erect than the cold condition air blowing through the vents briskly to accommodate that cluster of people seeking refuge during the summer heat. It was no longer day but the night, although humid wasn't as tepid but she was still sweltering under his gaze. The warmth swelled in her chest and made her throat a desert as thoughts of their date and the conversation they shared ignited her with passion and longing. A longing she couldn't feed. Not now. Not yet. Maybe never.
"Sorry, I got lost in work." His words pulled her eyes back to him but it was his abrupt movement that made her fret.
"Um...that's fine." She took a step back as he rose to his feet and she pushed the clump of hair back behind her ear, averting her sight away from all six delicious feet of him. "Um...work can have that effect." She cleared her dry throat and set her vision on him trying hard not to get lost in his pools of cognac that she knew would get her drunk off yearning adoration. "But...it's time."
"It is." He glimpsed down at the broad face gold watch on his wrist then refocused on her with a quirk to his lips; lips that she tasted before and wondered if they were still addictive. "I didn't know you left New York."
She cleared her throat to steady her voice. "I didn't know you were in Houston."
"I'm in New York. Houston. LA." He casually half-shrugged. "I'm all over."
"Work keeps you busy so..." Her eyes moved from his eyes to inspect every trace of his face in search of change but it seemed that time was good to him. "...I guess things are going well."
"That would be a great guess." He slightly smiled then let his vision canvas the space behind her. "What happened to..." He stopped and refocused on her. His Adam's apple slid down and she wondered if her face had given something away. "Amila Johnson. In Houston. Back home. It was great running into you. A pleasure. We should do it again."
He reached in his pant pocket and produced a card. "Planned next time."
She slipped her hand from her back pocket and started to reach for the card then hesitated. An essay of words congested her mind and a hurricane of emotions wreaked havoc inside her ribcage.
"Dominic..." She lifted her eyes from the card and peered at him trying to find the words for the two-letter answer she wanted to give him but came up empty.
"It's just a card." He slid the thick embossed business card in the pocket of her apron. "Call me. We should catch up. Nothing heavy." He gave her a smile as his eyes dropped to her lips momentarily then rose back to her eyes. "Have a good night."
She nodded as if his smile rendered her speechless. The card was heavy in her pocket and there remained where she stood as he exited and retreated.
"That is a man...." Deja sounded at her side. "That wants you."
Amila let out a shaky breath. "I know."
What do you think Amila is going to do with Dominic's card?
After Amila addressed working keeping him busy, Dominic was going to ask her something; what do you think it was and why do you think he changed his mind?
What do you think is going on between Deja and Keaton?
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