Fifty Shades of COVID-19

Chapter 14

Anastasia

October 13, 2020

I'm behind the counter, waiting for to-go orders. Ishita's had a bad week. Poor woman. Two cases of COVID exposure in her staff. No wonder my landlord keeps talking to herself.

She's baking now and chanting prayers. At least I think they're prayers. I inch closer to the kitchen. She takes the tray of hot blueberry scones out of her double oven and places them down on the metal counter to cool.

"Now, it's like this," Ishita says, motioning her hands high to the sky and bringing them down to her heart. Is that from her yoga class? Don't hit the scones. She jumps when we meet our eyes. "Oh, Ana, can you handle things here alone if I go out on a delivery."

"Yes, as long as they don't order expresso drinks."

"Tell everyone I'll be back." Ishita says, fanning the baked goods. I don't think that'll get them to cool faster. "Mollie should be coming in an hour to relieve you. Thanks again for filling in the last minute."

"No problem, thanks for lowering my rent."

She smiles and I hear the front door chime. Another customer.

"Good morning, how can I help you?" I say, to the tall man walking in. Wait. My breath hitches. What's he doing here? "Christian?"

"Good morning Ana."

The deep tone stirs something within me. Desire. It's him. In Montesano.

"I thought I'd find you here. You look good in an apron."

"I um..." Why does he have to have such rugged good looks? The broad shoulders. The piercing eyes. "I'm um...happy you're here. But I'm working."

"I missed you. I couldn't wait until Friday," he says. His eyes show his concern. His care.

I fiddle with my hands. His attention. It's addicting. And dangerous.

Ishita walks out the kitchen with a white box full of fresh scones. "Thank you for covering," she says to me.

I wave goodbye. Grateful for the face mask. My cheeks must be bright red.

Ishita stops when she reaches the register. Her eyes dart from me to Christian, whose eyes are glued to me. "Nice to meet you too. Any friend of Ana's is welcome here," she says. Her eyes twinkle, as she exits the coffee shop.

My heart thuds, as I return my gaze to Christian. I force myself to stop drooling. "I...thought you were coming on Friday."

Christian raises an eyebrow, reminding me of my surprise visit to him last week. Touché. The door opens and a chill breeze comes through. Another customer. Shit. We're to-go only now. I can't talk to Christian here.

"I have a customer," I say, rushing to get him a to-go cup. "Let me get you a coffee and you can um...go to my apartment upstairs and wait."

There's a triumphant glean in his eyes. "By all means. No cream or sugar. Yet."

Tingles climb my arms, as I fill his coffee cup. I spill some over the counter as I hand the cup to him.

"Thanks," Christian says, lowering his face mask to take a sip of the dark brew. Those eyes. That steely look. I can't tell what he's thinking.

"The apartment is upstairs. The stairwell is past the restrooms."

"I'll find it," he answers, calmly.

My eyes linger on his lips. Entranced.

He pulls his mask back up and walks towards the restrooms. Gone again.