Was it all the coffee or the suspense? Celia couldn’t tell the difference as she steadied her shaking hands before she took another sip of the creamy froth-filled concoction. She eyed the café door for her “Chemistry Connection” who was supposed to walk through more than twenty minutes ago. His online profile was appealing and they had a lot of similar interests--or so the online matchmaker survey said. Their phone conversations were nice enough. But can you really know someone from a few phone conversations and statistical ties of compatibility?
Celia looked away from the door and down deep into her cup introspecting. As she did, a familiar voice sounded behind her, “Celia Pruitt?”
She turned to see Bob-from-the-office. She didn’t know his whole name. “Hey, Bob! ‘Sup?”
Bob rubbed his free right hand over his military-shaved head as was his habit, “Just grabbing a fix.” he raised the to-go cup in his left hand. “What about you? You expecting someone?”
Celia nodded, “Internet Chemistry Connection.” she chuckled slightly embarrassed that she spilled the beans so easily. But to say it helped calm the nervous jitters pulsing her senses.
Uninvited, Bob sat down opposite her and exclaimed, “Not you too! Dang!”
Somehow his reaction hit like an arrow, “What do you mean--me too?!” Celia turned an angry scowl his way.
Bob sighed and leaned towards her with his chiseled, yet boyish smile, “I’ve been meeting women here and there for coffee for months now, and its always the same. Yea, we like the same things but there’s no . . .” he paused thoughtfully, “spark! No contrast! It‘s all too matchy-matchy.”
Celia laughed outright, “What do you know about 'matchy-matcy?'”
He rolled his steel grey eyes, “Two sisters, one of them determined to be a fashion designer. You don’t think I dress this cool all by myself do you? I’d wear my sports jersey and jeans everyday if I could.”
“You are a snazzy dresser.” Celia had noticed that a long time ago, along with his military build. “So, your sister buys your clothes?”
Bob slapped his forehead in animated frustration, “I should be so lucky. She makes me go shopping WITH her. After every shopping trip I have to eat a blood-rare steak, call all my Marine buddies, drink a six-pack and burp the national anthem just to retain some man-credits.”
“Man Credits?! That’s funny!” again Celia laughed outright. It was a better feeling than the anxious one she had before. “So you have ‘Man-Cred,’ huh?”
He tugged at his shirt and shrugged his shoulders smugly, “Well, you know. I do have a rep to uphold.”
Celia raised her eyebrows and sat back in her chair too, “A rep too?”
“Yeah!” he feigned shock, “You know -- cool, smart, good looking, ex-Marine, Colt’s fan, snazzy dresser, and real ladies’ man.”
“No real man can be a Colt’s Fan.” Celia inserted a feisty, flirty jab.
“OWWWW!” Bob grabbed his heart, “You know how to really hurt a fellow. You must be a Steeler’s Fan.”
“I don’t like baseball at all.” Celia knew the Colt’s were football. Her wry grin and the rising blush tone in her skin gave away the “put on.” It was a silent awkward moment when they connected without words.
“So,” Celia drew the word out looking towards the door for the next phrase.
“So,” Bob smiled and etched a line in his to-go cup with the side of his thumbnail, “I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
Celia nodded, “Sure.”
“And if you tell anyone I shop like a girl you can kiss your new electric stapler goodbye. I can do it, you know! I have pull with the supply clerk.” his empty threat emphasized by aggressively tapping his finger on the table in front of her cup.
They shared another laugh and Celia noticed again how Bob had nice eyes and a nice build to go along with his cool clothes. Her awareness of him heightened.
He reached out and touched her hand as he stood to leave, “Good luck.” he took three steps away before turning back, “Hey, does anyone else know you are meeting this guy? You can never be too careful.” His concern was genuine.
Celia felt her pulse race and her face flush more, “How sweet, Bob. Yes, my BFF knows and my mom.”
Bob and Celia’s eyes met momentarily. SPARK!
With a wink and a nod, Bob turned and walked out the door just as the familiar face of her online connection walked in. The guy didn’t have a chance, not because he was almost thirty minutes late without so much as a text. No. Celia had already experienced her Chemistry Connection.
