The Art of Forbidden Romance (Student x Teacher)

Chapter 11

Thursday I worked, the cafe was fairly busy. I woke up in a daze from my interactions with Chuck the night before. All day I checked my phone anxiously waiting for a message. None came and I went to bed a ball of nerves.

Friday was even busier at the cafe. It was our first lesson/talk from the featured artist of the month. I spent the whole day getting the smaller side of the cafe rearranged and set up for the lesson that night. Every time the bell chimed on the door I looked up, expecting Chuck to be there, but alas it was never him. I found myself getting disgruntled with the fact he wasn't texting me right away to at least give me his number.

I busied myself with a deep clean of the cafe while it was slow, scrubbing and dusting in anticipation of the event that night. It also served as a strong distraction from waiting for Chuck's text.

By the time Angela arrived at the cafe to take over I was exhausted. I asked Juan to watch the front while she and I chatted in the back about the event that night.

"I set up everything," I explained. "The tables have been moved, the stage is set up and everything."

"It looks great out there," Angela said. "Did you do a scrub?"

"Yeah it needed it and I needed to distract myself." Angela raised her eyebrows at me. "Just stressed." I clarified.

"Well it looks great," she said. Angela started to ask me another question when Juan appeared in the back office.

"Win," he said, interrupting Angela. "You have a customer asking for you." I looked over at Juan and my heart skipped a beat.

"Uh, okay, one second," I stammered.

"Who is it?" Angela asked. Juan shrugged.

"Some guy, said he had some question for Win about the artist of the month thing," Juan said. Angela waved her hand dismissively.

"Just give him a postcard and tell him to go to the website," she said. Angela turned back to me as Juan left.

"Did you get the lights set up?" Angela asked me. I nodded.

"All the lights are set up, drapes on that side of the cafe are closed up as well and I pulled out the partition," I replied. The artist of the month was teaching a life painting class and we always tried to make the room more private for both the model and the students. "I wasn't-"

"He says he only wants to talk to you," Juan said, reappearing. Angela rolled her eyes.

"What?" She grumbled. I sighed.

"It's fine," I said. "Tell him I'll be out in a second." Juan stepped back outside. I turned back to Angela.

"I wasn't able to get the colored vinyl for the lights though, I couldn't find it."

"I'll take care of it, I'm sure they won't care." Angela said with an eye roll. "Go take care of the weirdo out there and then head home, you did so much today."

I chuckled and headed back out into the cafe. Juan was sitting on the stool behind the counter, looking at his phone.

"Where's the customer?" I asked him. The cafe was otherwise empty.

"He went to the other side," Juan said with a nod. I glanced over at where I had half set up the partition for tonight's event and sighed.

"Alright," I said with a grumble. I half stomped over to the other side of the cafe to figure out what was so urgent with this customer. I stepped around the partition and found Chuck looking at some of the paintings from the new artist of the month on the wall. My mouth suddenly went dry.

He was dressed casually as always, blue jeans and a flannel. It was almost becoming his uniform at this point. I walked over to him and cleared my throat. He turned and smiled when he saw me.

"Hi Winona," he said. I half smiled.

"Can I help you?" I asked. My tone came off more irritated than I intended. Chuck furrowed his brow at me in confusion.

"I thought I would come see you..." he said. I shrugged.

"You could've texted me also," I said. He nodded, scratching his beard awkwardly. .

"I, uh, washed my pants last night with your number inside them." He admitted. My stomach sank and I instantly felt bad for my reaction.

"Oh," I said. "I didn't know."

"No it's okay," he said. "It's not your fault. I just figured I could see you instead since I couldn't call."

"Well, thanks for not leaving me hanging." He smiled at me and I smiled back.

"When are you off?" I feigned looking at my non existent watch.

"Whenever we're done talking about 'artist of the month'." I said teasingly, using his excuse to interrupt my meeting with Angela. He smiled.

"Would you like to get dinner tonight?" I looked down at what I was wearing. My bleach stained jeans from cleaning and peeling Artist's Loft shirt were not first date attire.

"Uh..." I hesitated.

"You can go home and change. I don't mean right now," Chuck said with a smile, noting my awkwardness. I blushed and nodded.

"Sure then," I said.

"I can pick you up if you'd like," he offered. I shook my head.

"Nope, I always drive myself on first dates. How else can I make sure you're not going to kidnap and murder me?" He chuckled.

"I imagine there are other ways to avoid that," he said. "But I respect it." I pulled my phone from my back pocket and handed it to him.

"Put in your number and call yourself, that way you don't lose my number to your washer again," I said. He grinned at me and took my phone. A few moments later he passed it back and I looked down. He had saved his number under the name James Hill.

"James?"

"It's my middle name. I figured it's best if you don't have my actual name in your phone," he said. I nodded in agreement.

"Good point," I said, thinking of how bad it could be if someone saw that Chuck and I were talking, or dating even.

"I'll text you the restaurant," he said. He shot me a dazzling smile before stepping past me and leaving the partitioned room. I heard the bell to the cafe front door chime and knew he had left. As I left the partitioned room for the nights event Juan and Angela both shot me a confused look.

"What did he want?" She asked me.

"He's an artist and wants to get featured. Someone told him to talk to me about it I guess," I fibbed with a shrug. The answer must've been good enough because they both shrugged and turned back to their work.