Beyond

Chapter Seven

Traffic in the store is slow today. DeAndré is perched on top of the counter flipping through a magazine and funneling tiny pieces of a banana nut muffin into his mouth. The sky has opened up and is currently drowning New Orleans in buckets of rain. In between bites of muffin, DeAndré tells Margie and me about the movie he's in. He has one line; "ETA ten minutes". He's playing a pilot.

"Sebastian's in the movie, too," he informs us. "I don't have any scenes with him though."

"That's because they don't want you to out shine their star," Margie replies. She pats his knee affectionately. Margie loves André and will take any opportunity to build up his self-confidence. André's chosen a difficult path. A lot of people fall short for one reason or another. But DeAndré remains steadfast in his determination and resolve. I admire him for that.

No matter what, Margie can always make him blush. I don't know how I came to deserve these two in my life.

"Of course," DeAndré tells her, "but that didn't stop him from tracking me down and telling me hello." He frames the end of his sentence with air quotes and looks up over his magazine like he's on an episode of Parks and Rec. "We talked for exactly five minutes before he finally worked the conversation toward our beloved Shiloh."

"What? He doesn't even know we know each other."

"At first, he asked if I remembered you."

"I looked him square in those beautiful baby blues and said, her name is Shiloh. She works at the bookstore four blocks from the coffee shop. She's single. Go get her, tiger. Then, he laughed and said thanks and rode off into the sunset like a beautiful Romanian knight."

"Why didn't you tell me this? How long ago did this happen?"

Margie is loving every minute of this interaction. Her head whips back and forth between the two of us so quickly I'm afraid she'll get whiplash.

He shrugs. "A couple of days ago." He focuses his attention back to his magazine. "He found me again the next day to show off the book you recommended. It was disgustingly cute. I could've thrown up," he says, "and Neil Gaiman? You are so sadly predictable."

I scoff, rolling my eyes, "Whatever, André."

"Margie, you should have seen him. He comes jogging up to me with this big, goofy ass grin on his face and telling me how nice she was and everything. His eyes popped out of his head when I said, I know she's like my best friend."

"It's meant to be," Margie sings, clapping her hands like Willie Nelson's just left the stage.

I shake my head as I stack the dolly with stock to wheel out onto the sale's floor. "Need I remind the two of you that I went on a successful date last night with a guy who is not a celebrity? Because I did and I had a great time."

"But you didn't have sex," DeAndré reminds me.

I continue stacking my books this time putting a little more force behind the effort. "That couldn't possibly have had anything to do with the fact you were still at my house and flicking the porch lights at us?"

DeAndré just smirks finishing off the last of his muffin.

The bell above the door rings as Shawn walks in the store carrying a cup of coffee and a brown paper bag. He sets both on the counter and leans over to give me a quick peck on the cheek.

"Hi," I say, blushing at the contact of his lips on my skin. "I wasn't expecting you."

He smiles and my heart races. "I wanted to surprise you and bring you a little something to get you through the work day. I didn't know what type of coffee you liked so I just got the medium roast. There's cream and sugar in the bag with an everything bagel."