“Annie, I think I got it!” Rebecca announced with a squeal.
Annie pressed the speakerphone button off, picking up the receiver and putting one finger up to her client.
“Yes?” Annie asked, turning her face toward the wall.
“Do you remember Sarah McLean?”
“No. I’m with a client.” Annie smiled an apology over her shoulder at the woman sitting on the tan leather sofa. The black bag she was clutching to her side shook so much with the woman’s anxiety that, when she first came in, Annie had been sure that there was a small dog inside.
“Okay, I’ll talk fast. Sarah McLean is organizing our ten year class reunion and she called me yesterday asking if I had any current numbers for people. Can you believe it’s been ten years since I graduated-?”
“Rebecca!”
“Yeah, yeah. So anyway, I was looking through my book, and I remembered who Eric was. He was that hot guy who moved to our school in my senior year, remember? My god, if he aged well, you’re right, he’s gorgeous!”
“Rebecca!”
“Yeah, okay. Anyway, I forgot that I had called Eric’s mom the week of the Valentine’s party, asking if she had a new number for him. He’s your Eric, Annie.
I’m sure of it!”
Annie’s brow knitted, and she grabbed a pen. “Give me a number.”
“Now, remember, this is his mother. But I’m sure she can tell you his new number. I know I wrote it down once because I called and left him a message inviting him to the party, but I don’t seem to have it in my book-”
“Number, please,” Annie reminded her.
Rebecca rattled it off.
“Her name?”
“Gosh, I don’t remember. His last name is Desiree, but I don’t know if they’re the same.”
“Okay, thanks, I’ll call you back.” Replacing the receiver, Annie faced her client. “I apologize for the interruption. Please continue.” The slight woman moved her purse to her lap, as if it was a shield, and began talking again in a small, quivering voice. Annie nodded, picked up her notepad again and scribbled as she listened. Her pen circled the number in the margin twice, and her brow knitted again, her lips pressing together.
Eric. She could still feel the disappointment of her error like a weight compressing her soul. She saw him in her darkest moments-his beautiful, crestfallen face-and his sad, betrayed look just before he had disappeared.
Annie wrote down “severe anx/neurosis, further testing req” at the end of her notes. The client had stopped speaking and was looking at her expectantly.
“How does that make you feel?” Annie asked, and when the woman spoke again, her words droned with a troubled, rising buzz.
Annie often believed she could diagnose from tone alone. Her thoughts wandered again, and she remembered back in February, the secret feeling of sitting with Eric in the darkness under her sister’s kitchen table, how much they had learned about each other in that short hour together. Probably more than she had ever learned about any client in a fifty minute session.
“Well, our time is up,” Annie said, sensing a pause. “Is there anything else you wanted to address today?”
Her client stood, still clutching her bag in her fists. “No. Thank you, Dr.
Thanos.”
“I’ll see you next week.” When Annie shut the door behind her and leaned against it with a sigh, she consoled herself that she had spent at least most of the hour being attentive to her work. She rubbed her eyes, sitting in her rolling chair and pulling it up to the computer so she could type in her notes. The number stared back at her-circled twice.
Before she knew it, the phone was in her hand. She punched the buttons with her pen, hesitating before pressing the last one. Do I really want to do this?
Her stomach lurched, and she reached for one of the Saltines she kept hidden behind the Kleenex box, stuffing it into her mouth and pressing her pen down on the last number.
It rang nine times before someone answered. She counted, having resigned herself at ring six to give up at ring ten. Unfortunately, it was just a machine finally kicking in.
“Hello, darlings, this is Dita. You know what to do.” BEEP.
Annie swallowed her cracker dry. “Hi there. I am calling for the reunion committee for the Class of 1996, and I’m looking for a current number for Eric Desiree.” She left her name and number on the machine and hung up.
Fifteen minutes later, having tried to find Eric using Google, the Yellow Pages, and every other means she could think of, she stared at her computer screen, her motionless hand still on the mouse.
I have to find you. Annie rubbed her eyes again, toeing off her heels and putting her feet up on her desk. She smiled, remembering how she had bumped her head leaning back in the chair that night and how he had comforted and tended her. She remembered the heat between them, like a shock, the incredible passion of that night. She drifted, giving in to her exhaustion.
Eric’s hands slid slowly up her thighs. She loved his hands the most, so large and warm, the way he pulled and grabbed at her, like he wanted her. What was it about him, that she knew it, without even a trace of doubt? It was in his eyes, his hands. He wanted her.
The black velvet darkness enveloped her and she strained her eyes in the dimness. Where was she? She touched the hard, cold surface under her hands.
Her body was splayed for him, her arms and legs thrown wide, her hair fanning out over her shoulders. She knew she was beautiful, like a goddess. If only he could see her…
His hands spread her legs further apart and back, exposing her completely to him. His fingers probed, his tongue, too, the wet heat of his mouth so hungry! He made eager sucking and licking sounds between her legs, drinking her like she was the only nourishment he’d had in eons.
Annie moaned in her sleep, shifting in her chair, the aching heat between her legs growing intense. Her hand found its way up under her skirt, cupping the damp crotch of her panties.
Eric’s fingers became rougher, spreading her open, shoving into her and curling up again and again, like he could peel her from the inside. She writhed and moaned, bucking against him, not caring if someone heard. He wanted to hear her. Somehow, she knew he wanted her response, and she gave it to him.
Then he moved onto her. It was so fast, and yet it seemed to go on forever. He had a hundred hands, grabbing her breasts, pinching her nipples, cupping her ass, plunging into her pussy. She tried to keep up with him, but she couldn’t. She could only let him have her, take her. My pussy was yours the minute you touched it, Eric… She knew the whispered thought was true. Her pussy responded for him in ways she didn’t understand, as if it were weeping with joy at his touch.
His cock was hot steel, impaling her again and again. She couldn’t get enough of it, of him. What was it about this man that she wanted to worship every sweet, glorious inch of him? Never had someone filled her so completely, made her long for him so much. Her pussy spasmed as she felt herself being opened by him, bit by bit, the hard press of his flesh spreading hers. The way he stayed there and kissed her before he started pulling out, the throbbing feel of the tip buried deep inside of her making her close her eyes and clutch at him. He used that deliciously fat, bulbous head to collect all her juices, pulling it along her hot, tight passage toward the light-wetting the way.
He hesitated for a moment and then…oh, god, he started to fuck her so hard-so hard and fast and breathless and sweaty in the heat of the sun. The light? Where was the light coming from? She was aware of the ground beneath her now as they rocked. There was the sound of water coming from somewhere, but her eyes didn’t search it out. Instead, Annie opened her eyes and saw him-
the most beautiful man she had ever encountered. She gloried in the sight of him, and knew he was hers. She could feel it in the way his thighs pressed against her, see it in the way his dark hair curled behind his ear, and knew it in the outline of his mouth, drawn tight, as he drove even deeper inside of her.
“Eric, look at me!” Annie urged, wrapping her legs around his waist.
“Please, look at me.”
She felt his smile against her cheek. “I don’t need to.” And she knew it was true. He knew her in ways she didn’t even know herself.
They sank into blackness again, floating on a mattress like a soft cloud in the darkness. He fucked her with all of his strength, his muscles straining, his breath hot on her face. She met him, crazy with her own lust, bucking under him until her body screamed for release. She moaned and gasped in his ear, calling his name, begging him for more. The words didn’t matter, she just had to release her breath, or die. And he gave her what she wanted, left and right and sideways and upside-fucking-down.
He was relentless. He pinned her legs back practically to her ears, driving into her with a force that didn’t seem possible. His fingers rubbed her clit, just the way she loved, using the hood to tease the little bud underneath. She felt her climax swelling like something about to burst. He seemed to know it, too, because he gave her even more, grinding his pelvis into hers, forcing her pussy to its edge and beyond. She came all over his cock in great, shuddering waves that made her clench around him in sweet desperation.
But he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop. He spread her out onto her belly, his cock shoving so far up inside of her that she thought she could taste it. She just let him take her, going along for the ride. The weight of him was crushing the breath out of her, leaving her panting and clawing at the mattress.
He quickly sent her out into orbit again, and she couldn’t remember how to get back. Eric bit at her neck and shoulder as she came again, his cock impaling her, and still, he didn’t stop. She tried to crawl away, almost frightened by the intensity of his lust, but his tongue changed her mind. He rolled her onto her back and licked her. She was a dripping mess and he licked her clean, moving around so he could shove his hard cock down her throat.
She could barely stand that position. He used her throat like another pussy, just driving into her. Annie gasped and pushed against his hips. Just when she thought she couldn’t do it anymore, his tongue and fingers working between her legs inched her up another notch, to a place where she could ride with it again, lost in the sensation. It was as if he knew every threshold and pushed her eagerly just to that edge.
Annie’s fingers were pressing between her legs, and she moaned softly.
The wet throb of her clit moved closer toward physical release.
There was no warning, no build-up. One minute he was licking her, and she was struggling to handle the length of his cock down her throat, and the next minute, he had his hand in her hair and he was turning her over onto her hands and knees and shoving into her from behind. There were no words between them, just sounds, like animals grunting and gasping.
Annie whimpered, twisting in her chair. Her head lolled back as her fingers pressed the wet crotch of her panties.
She didn’t think her pussy could take any more of his cock, but when he turned her around and pressed into her flesh, it was like sinking a post on a muddy day-she had no resistance left. He could have done anything to her. She was his. She had always been his.
There were no words between them, just sounds. She sucked and licked and bit at the buttons on the mattress. She didn’t know what had happened to the sheet. They rocked together, hard, and she grabbed onto the edges to keep from falling over, pushing back into him like she was riding some incredible force pressing deep within. Her pussy felt stretched to its limit.
He grabbed her hips and squeezed, driving his cock so far into her that she was thrown forward, half off the mattress, hissing and clawing at the shock of the tile floor underneath. He was filling her, coming hard, his growl rumbling through her body. She was so tight around him-or he was so huge inside of her-that she could actually feel the pulse of his shaft, waves of him spurting upward along the underside of his cock.
Annie gasped and shuddered, her body jerking alive in the wake of her orgasm. Consciousness came slowly as she blinked and stared up at the ceiling, shaking her head as if to clear it. She swore she could feel him, still hard, sliding out of her pussy. Eric?! Don’t leave me! It made her want to cry. She didn’t want him to go. But he was gone. The air around her was still, and the light in her eyes was blinding. You promised. Why didn’t you keep your word? That’s when she realized she was really awake. Her watch was beeping, chiming the time for her next client. She started, still disoriented and groggy. She slipped her shoes back on and rushed to open her door. No one had shown up yet.
She stumbled back to her chair, straightening her skirt, smoothing her hair. Eric. Where are you? God, I need you. She had never thought that about any man, but there it was. She could feel it like the ache between her legs.
The message light on her phone was blinking. I didn’t hear it ring? With a frown, she picked up the receiver and pushed the play button.
“Hello, Annie, this is Dita, Eric’s mother, returning your call. I’m swamped today. Why don’t you meet me at The Demi-Cafe on West Fourth Street tomorrow morning at seven? See you then!”
Annie stared at the phone receiver with her jaw dropped. She had just decided to call back to clarify her need for only a number when the phone rang. It was the client who was supposed to be in her office now, calling to cancel. She
spoke briefly, rearranging her schedule to fit him in later in the week, but her mind couldn’t seem to focus on anything except the message from Eric’s mother.
Then, she listened to the message again, writing down the cafe and street name before erasing it. She was feeling dizzy and sleepy and didn’t feel brave enough to call again. Recalling Eric’s little eccentricities, she decided to give his mother the benefit of the doubt. Okay, Mom. Let’s see where this goes. She packed up her briefcase, making sure to tuck in the notebook with the numbers on it before turning off the lights and locking up for the night.
* * * *
Annie circled the block three times before finally seeing the little coffee shop tucked away between two larger restaurants. Damn! She was twenty minutes late by her watch. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, her eyes swept the building as she clicked the button to automatically lock her car door. There was only a hand-made sign propped in the corner of the dirty glass in calligraphied letters: Demi-Cafe. She had worried on the way over how she was going to recognize Eric’s mother in a crowd, but now Annie didn’t think that was going to be a problem.
She swung the door open to the sound of tinkling bells and took a step back at the powerful smell of the place. It was an exotic blend of darkness-
coffee, chocolate and spice. Her sense of smell was keen these days. The tables appeared empty. There was a man behind the counter, working the cappuccino machine from the sounds of it.
Annie stood for a moment, chewing her lip and fingering her keys. What am I doing here? Maybe Chloe’s right, she thought, remembering her sister’s sarcastic comment, “When it comes to Annie’s Eric-quest, Obsession isn’t just a new scent from Calvin Klein.”
“Annie! Yes? My, you are lovely. Come! Sit!”
Annie whirled at the sound of the voice to her left. Beyond the window, tucked away in a cornered nook table was a woman of indeterminable age. Her blonde hair was piled up onto her head in a mass of swoops and swirls, and her mouth was smiling, but her eyes were not. She’s had work done. She held a hand out, beckoning, her fingers long and slender and decorated with rings.
Annie moved into the seat across from her, taking the extended hand in the delicate squeeze of a feminine handshake. Her skin was like cream.
“Mrs-uh…Eric’s mother?” Annie doubted it even as she spoke the words.
This is someone’s mother?
The woman laughed, and in it, Annie heard Eric’s laugh. Only it was lighter, like silver tinged with lavender, instead of his deep golden tone. “That’s me, darling. You can call me Dita. Only my best friends do.” She smiled then, as if she were sharing a secret. Annie settled her purse, shrugged off her light jacket and glanced toward the counter. She couldn’t drink coffee, but something wet would be good. Her throat was dry.
“So tell me, how do you know my wandering son?” Dita asked.
“I-” Annie averted her eyes, trying to remember the lie she had told, and noticed that the man behind the counter was moving to bring a tray over to their table.
“Oh, don’t bother with that reunion thing, sweetie. I know better. Girls still call daily for my boy.” She laughed again, and Annie was transfixed by the sound.
“Dita.” The man bent to put a steaming cup and saucer in front of her.
“Your special.” The accent was thick and probably Latino, Annie judged. He also placed two large, over-full paper bags of beans on the center of the table.
“Can I get a diet Sprite or…something without caffeine?” Annie asked.
“Oh, don’t drink that hideous syrup! Bring her a chocolate, Joss.” Annie raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything as Joss nodded his head in assent and left them. “You grind your own?” she asked, indicating the bags and she peered around them to see the older woman.
“I roast my own,” Dita corrected, pointing out the lighter colored beans.
“These are raw coffee beans. Quite a powerful stimulant.” She lifted one of the darker beans, holding it out in her hand for Annie to take. “These…smell…” she urged.
Annie drew in a deep breath, the aroma deliciously soothing. “Wow!”
“Yes.” Dita nodded. “Pure cocoa beans. They are a very strong aphrodisiac.”
Annie flushed as Dita studied her face. “So, about Eric-”
“Yes, Eric. You were about to tell me how you know him.”
Annie sighed and cleared her throat. “I met him at a Valentine’s party three months ago. He was hiding in the dark under my sister’s kitchen table. We spent the night talking.”
Dita sipped her drink, her eyes on Annie’s face. “Go on.” Annie knew it sounded crazy, but Dita seemed unfazed. “Well, he wouldn’t let me turn on the light. He didn’t want me to see him. So we stayed under the table, and we…talked.” Annie felt warm and pressed her hand to her cheek to cool it. “When we left, I promised him I wouldn’t turn on the light. He didn’t want me to see his face in the light.”
Joss returned with a large mug of hot chocolate. Dita thanked him and he nodded, his eyes warm. Annie busied herself with the drink, not wanting to tell the rest of the story. Dita sipped and waited.
“I broke my promise to him,” Annie admitted, rubbing the rim of the mug and sucking the sweetness of cream off her finger to chase the bitter taste of the words from her mouth. “I listened to my sisters, and I turned on the light. I haven’t seen him since.”
Dita wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Yes. I know.”
“You know?” Annie met her eyes, feeling like someone had punched her in the stomach.
“Yes.” Dita tucked her napkin under her saucer. “He told me about you. Do you think I invite every girl who calls looking for him out to coffee?” Annie gripped her mug, her eyes wide. “How did you know it was me? The story about the reunion…I only gave you my first name…”
“Caller I.D., dear.” This time Dita’s eyes were smiling, but her mouth was not. “Isn’t the modern world a wonderful thing?” Annie sat back in her chair, feeling warm and woozy. “So can you tell me where he is?”
Dita shrugged one shoulder. “In a manner of speaking. I can tell you where he will most likely be.”
Annie’s mouth tightened. “Now I know where Eric got all his mysterious bullshit from.”
Dita laughed, and this time it was like silver heat. “Perhaps.” Annie rose, snatching for her purse. “Excuse me a moment.”
“Of course, dear.”
Annie’s purse strap snagged and pulled the chair, bumping the table edge as she tugged. She gasped as she watched the two paper bags totter and tip.
She moved to catch them, but the rich, glossy beans spilled onto the floor. She stood stooped, transfixed, her hands still out to catch the impossible flood, her eyes wide and mouth agape.
Dita’s eyes met hers. “Well…that’s a mess.”
“I’m so sorry!” Annie swept the beans up with a fist and began to put them back into one of the bags. “I’m sure he has more. I’ll pay for them. It was my fault.”
“Please, don’t mix them,” Dita cautioned her, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry.” Annie dropped the bag, her whole body feeling like a bright red apology as she crouched on the tile floor.
“These are still usable,” Dita explained. “He only gets a shipment once every three months.”
Annie surveyed the scattered disarray of mixed beans. “I’ll pick them up, then.”
“That would be kind of you. I’ll be back to help you in a moment.” Dita smiled down at her as she stepped carefully through the widespread litter of beans. “And please, cocoa in one, coffee in another. Yes?” Annie nodded, her head pounding. It will take forever to sort all these! She sighed, lining the two bags up on the floor and squatting down. She glanced at her watch. She was supposed to meet a client in half an hour. There wasn’t anything else to do but begin putting the raw, light-colored beans in one bag and the dark, aromatic beans in the other. After a few moments, her back began to hurt and she carefully cleared a spot to sit, cross-legged on the floor as she sorted.
The tile felt cool under her bare legs. Good thing it isn’t winter anymore.
She remembered how cold the tile was in her sister’s kitchen that night. She could see Eric’s hands, and she could feel his mouth, burning against her neck.
Annie looked toward the alcove where Dita had disappeared. They’re probably both back there laughing at me. Her face reddened at the thought.
At least no one is likely to come in! She glanced at the front door. She hadn’t even seen anyone pass by the window. She began sorting one bean at a time-light, dark, light, dark-into the bags. This seemed to be taking too long, and she reconsidered, making a pile of each on the floor first, sliding her hand through the mixed beans like a divider, light over here, dark over there. Although it was still tedious, the chore moved along faster.
Aside from her embarrassment, Annie found herself starting to enjoy the task. It was hypnotic, and even pleasant, creating order out of chaos. The monotonous routine became a gentle rhythm as she sorted. Her mind began to wander, randomly focusing on her past. Memories of her sisters flooded in, their love for her, their protection. Nothing was ever good enough for “our Annie.” She was too beautiful, too perfect.
Annie recalled the last man she was involved with, flushing at the memory.
Craig was a great guy with a truly generous heart. They’d met during one of her sisters’ many attempts to find her the perfect man, this one a “speed dating” routine. It was once again her sisters’ influence that had convinced her that Craig wasn’t “the one.” She had broken up with him two years ago on their advice-all because he was “just an elementary school teacher” and, as Chloe had put it,
“financially limited.”
Had she really been so shallow? Her mind wandered back to that night, under the table with Eric. She couldn’t remember any point in her life when she’d felt so immediately connected to someone else. He had seen through her, into her, and she had let him. It was like nothing she had ever known before, and she longed for him. Even when she believed he might be disfigured, it hadn’t mattered to her. It was just her sisters and their damned opinions again that had sent him fleeing into the night.
No. It was my choice. The realization startled her, and she frowned as she separated the beans into piles then scooped them into the correct bags. It bothered her that she had entered the kitchen and turned on the light. It wasn’t even so much that she had done what Eric asked her not to, but more that she had done-once again-what her sisters had wanted. It was that thought that made her stomach churn and her cheeks hot. Why couldn’t she ever make a decision on her own, without the influence of her family?
I am. I’m searching for Eric. Annie closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. Everyone wanted her to forget about him and move on. She could hear Chloe’s voice in her head: “It was one night under the kitchen table, not the romance of the century!” Maybe even Eric himself wanted her to forget him-he certainly hadn’t contacted her since that night. But she wasn’t going to stop looking until she found him and told him.
What? What are you going to tell him? Annie sighed and peered into one of the bags. It wasn’t even half full! The other was only just as full with light-colored beans. Frowning, she stared at them scattered on the tile floor. The pile didn’t seem smaller to her at all. How is that possible? She rubbed her eyes, straightened her sore back and looked up for the first time in what felt like ages.
Joss was standing behind the counter again and she smiled over at him and waved. I must look ridiculous, sitting on the floor and sorting beans, she realized, but she found she didn’t care. He smiled back, his eyes warm, and gave her a nod.
“Tough task.” He leaned over the counter and surveyed the mass of strewn beans. “Need some help?”
Annie brightened. “I’d love some!” She expected him to come and get down on the floor with her, but he didn’t. Instead, he reached under the counter and pulled out a large scoop attached at the handle to a wooden box.
“Use this.” He put the scoop down onto the counter and turned back to putting coffee cups into stacks. She winced as she stood, her bottom tingling from sitting on the floor so long in the same position, and retrieved the strange looking contraption.
“Thanks.” Annie tried to catch his eye, but he just nodded. He hummed as he worked, but he didn’t look at her. The box was square, and the handle of the scoop was hollow, she saw, so the beans would fall into the wooden container.
But how will it help me to sort them?
“Cocoa beans are heavier than coffee beans.” Joss’s voice startled her as she sat back down in front of the impossible, never-ending pile of legumes. “Try it and see.”
She used her hand to push a large hill of beans onto the scoop and tipped it up. There was a gentle sound, almost like rain, as the beans funneled down through the hollow handle and into the wooden container in her hand. Glancing back at Joss, she questioned him with her eyes, and he smiled.
“Now, open the bottom, one side at a time.” He waved her toward the bags. Annie saw that there were two sliding doors at the base of the box, one on each side. Tilting the box flat so nothing would spill out, she carefully edged open one of the wooden doors and glimpsed a heap of dark-colored beans. There wasn’t a light-colored one to be found among them! Excited, she closed that door and slid open the other to find all of the light-colored beans sorted into the other side.
“Th-” The words of gratitude were on her lips, but Joss was nowhere to be found. Annie shook her head, smiling, and opened one side of the box over the correct bag, and then the other, spilling sorted beans in. She hummed to herself as she continued to scoop and pour, the pile diminishing more quickly this time.
She didn’t know how long it was before she looked up again, but the light had shifted across the floor, and most of the beans were back into the bags. She had placed the amazing sorting contraption back on the counter, and was picking up the last few strays by hand. It was the sound of Dita’s heels on the tile that brought her out of her trance.
Dita’s voice came from behind her and Annie glanced over her shoulder.
“Goodness! Look at you! What an effort!”
“I’m really sorry,” Annie told her, unfolding her legs and wincing.
Annie swept the rest of the beans into separate bags as quickly as she could. Dita made no effort to help, but rather sat in the chair and watched. Annie knew that without Joss’s help, she never would have gotten through the monumental task. She placed both bags back on the table, making sure they were stable, at least for the moment.
“Virgil,” Dita said, as if it meant something to Annie.
“Excuse me?”
“Virgil Yadira,” she expounded. “I can give you his address. Eric stays there, I believe, most of the time. At least, he was the last time I heard from him.” Relief flooded Annie’s chest. “Oh, thank you. I really need to speak to him.
Thank you so much.”
Dita unfolded her small bag and took out a white business-sized card and a pen. She wrote something on the back. “Here, my address is on the front.” Dita held the card fast when Annie reached for it, waiting until their eyes met. “Virgil keeps bees.”
Annie’s mouth opened but nothing came out. Finally, she just nodded. Dita released the card and Annie looked at the address. It was in the city.
“He keeps them on the roof of their apartment complex. If you wouldn’t mind, could you ask him for a jar of honey?”
“A jar of honey?” Annie repeated, wrinkling her nose.
Now both Dita’s mouth and her eyes were smiling at the same time. “Yes, just ask for Dita’s special honey. He’ll know.” Annie nodded, putting a hand to her forehead. “Sure.” Dita smiled again as she stood, and for the first time Annie looked at her fully. She was wearing a beautifully patterned sarong wrapped around her waist, a thin band of material over her breasts, covered with a sheer silvery top with flowing sleeves and edges. Her body moved like music as she swept the large bags of beans up in her arms and walked toward the back of the cafe.
Over her shoulder, Dita sang, “Thank you, dear. Good luck!” 60
Annie watched her go, fingering the thick card. She glanced at her watch and stared in disbelief. It was after noon! She had missed three clients already! She rushed to her car, digging her cell phone out as she fumbled with her keys. She was so distracted by the time that it didn’t occur to her until later that Dita’s airy sendoff was a strange thing for her to say.