"Who is that?" I asked myself as I watched the stranger walk past the library. All the women had their eyes on him like some prehistoric cavewomen ogling their potential mate. My boss, the lovely Ms. Winters, was one of them. She wasn't married, so it was totally inappropriate for her to be eyeballing the newcomer and making crude comments.
I hurried to the circulation desk to deposit the stack of books in my hands. What was wrong with my coworkers in this town? High school girls acted like teenagers trying to flirt with the hot new guy.
If I had a dollar for every single woman in town that had swooned for the newcomer, I'd have enough to buy a tiny cottage far from here.
As I walked to the restroom, I wondered if I was the only one who wasn't interested. Then again, the new guy was the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen. Of course, my boyfriend at 16 was the same, but I didn't want to think about that now. I had an image to maintain in my single working woman role.
My eyes followed the stranger as he headed to the local diner. I wanted to follow, but there was no way I could get away with it. My boss would kill me if she caught me. Even so, the hot and heavy look I saw him give a pretty blonde made me step to the bathroom door.
"I'll just be a minute, boss," I assured her. She waved me off, shaking her head. I knew I wasn't going to stay a minute. The stranger was so intriguing. Would he be good-looking up close? Would I be able to talk to him? What would I say? This was not something one should worry about at work.
I gave it a moment. Let him see the crowd of women he left in his wake. That should make him notice me.
It did. In moments, he was there. I froze in place as his dark blue eyes met mine. He was so brilliant, more than anyone I'd ever known.
Why did he have to be new here?
He was dressed even more nicely than I'd noticed before. He was wearing a suit and tie, beautiful, icy blue tie. I wondered if it was his favorite color. Did he even like color? My own favorite color was purple.
"Are you going to step aside? I'm trying to go to the bathroom," the stranger asked politely. It was surprising, given the way people were acting towards him. It was obvious he was used to people making a fuss over him.
I stepped aside and quickly made my way to the restroom. I was not a child to make this kind of observation. He was hot, very handsome, and he knew it. He could have anyone he wanted. Why did he want me?
I was nervous as I used the stall. I could only imagine the kind of woman he was used to. The girls in high school, all of them. The strangers at the library. Why me?
I reached for my hand mirror so I could survey the state of my face. I was two shades darker than I would have been a month ago. I should have known it wouldn't last. It couldn't have. My job relied on my being somewhat professional. I was a librarian. I should know.
He was attractive, and he was new to town. Most people were against talking to new people, but I could get away with it since I was a librarian.
I got out of the stall and waited for him at the sink. My hands were already washed and rinsed of soap and water before he appeared. He had taken the time to wash his hands before he came to talk to me.
"Hello," he said with a smile. I felt like I was meeting my own Rudolph. It was that kind of smile.
"Hi," I laughed. It was now or never. "I'm Susie Higgins. May I get you anything?"
"I'm delighted to meet you, Susie," he replied. He told me his name just like we were old friends. "If you're offering to buy me a coffee, I'd like that."
"I can get you a coffee, sure." My cheeks burned. He had this way about him, as if he were floating. "Was there anywhere in particular you have in mind?"
"Depends on whether you like it there," he smiled as he spoke. I was getting the same feeling I had when he walked past the library. Had he said something to me then? I might have been too busy watching him to notice. I looked the other way in embarrassment. Was I too busy watching him?
"You aren't shy, are you?" he asked as he studied my face. I had no idea what to make of his questions. Was he hitting on me?
He must have noticed my flustered expression and changed the subject. "I just like a coffee from the place that has the best tasting coffee. What kind of place do you recommend?"
I wasn't sure what to tell him. The local coffee house, which was really more like a hole in the wall, always had the best coffee. It was my favorite. Of course, I got that from their free promotion. I wouldn't lie to him for them though. It wouldn't be fair.
"I'll have a mocha latte," he volunteered.
"I'll have one mocha latte," I replied automatically. "But those things cost ten dollars each. I thought you'd want something with a lot of cream and chocolate."
"When it comes to coffee, I'm a simple man. I like the good stuff," he offered. "Another place has better coffee though. My father used to take me to the place in downtown. They had good espresso and even better service."