Carpe DiEmily (A Romantic Comedy Adventure)

eight

Alberto’s Café on the beach was crowded with early morning risers. The little restaurant was known for its huge Mexican omelets, salsa bar, and excellent “view” of the boardwalk with slews of half-naked, tanned rollerbladers and joggers passing by. The smell of brewing coffee and bacon wafted over the dark gray sand where seagulls pecked at crumbs left by the previous day’s beachgoers. Waves crashed a short distance away, and fishermen dangled lines off the pier, hoping to catch a few polluted fish for breakfast.

Emily had gotten to the cafe early but was told there would be a short wait for an outside table. She didn’t like the idea of waiting, but she’d told Tyler to meet her there, having said she needed his help. Begrudgingly, Emily added her name to the waiting list. She untied AW from the bike rack and took a seat on the wall next to the popular boardwalk.

The title “boardwalk” perplexed Emily because it wasn’t really a boardwalk at all but a concrete path with an orange line painted down the middle so people didn’t crash into each other, which happened all the time, anyway, because it was so crowded.

The path stretched for miles along the beaches through the South Bay all the way up to Santa Monica. People in her old office had bragged about riding the entire distance on their bikes, which was the equivalent of thirty miles round trip. She couldn’t imagine that being any fun at all. She’d once overheard Simone laughing about how she’d had to take a cab back from Santa Monica with her bike sticking out the back of the trunk because she hadn’t realized it was so far. It had cost her fifty dollars in fare. No one but Simone would think that qualified as an exciting adventure. Some people were as dim as the morning sun. Which, actually, Emily realized, wasn’t that dim at all. She squinted and fished around in her purse for her sunglasses. It was going to be another hot day—a typical winter heat wave in Southern California.

She looked at her watch. Tyler would be here any minute. She adjusted the flower print backpack that held a brick of bills. She’d thrown the bundle in last minute, figuring she might as well see what she could spend five thousand dollars on today. Carrying it felt surreal, dangerous. She hugged the backpack close, thinking it would be fun to treat Tyler to breakfast. They could order anything they wanted without thinking about it. Heck, she could even treat the whole restaurant if she wanted to, except she hated drawing attention to herself.

AW let out a low rumble at her feet. She nudged him, and he quieted. He’d been surprisingly good so far, sitting calmly by her side and watching the passersby with only intermittent growls. He hadn’t done his usual butt-shaking yet, probably because the people were passing too quickly for him to decide whether or not he liked them. Emily wondered how he would react to Tyler, and what Tyler would think of AW in return. Part of her hoped he would be impressed that she’d gotten a dog.

“Hey, Emily,” a voice called out.

She turned to see Tyler, wearing a baseball cap, shorts, a t-shirt, and pushing a tandem bike. Sporty sunglasses obscured his eyes, and his legs and arms were lean and tanned. Emily envied his healthy outdoor appearance. She probably looked like a blinding white blob of flesh in comparison—a Pillsbury dough girl.

He leaned the bike against the wall and hugged her, his arms strong and warm. She gazed down at his tattoo—the dragon one that intrigued her—and felt a little zing. She’d never hung out with anyone who had a tattoo before. She wondered what the dragon meant, and if it was symbolic for anything.

“What’s with the double bike?” she asked, staring at the strange contraption and wondering what he had in mind. Tyler and his unusual wheels.

“I thought we could go for a ride after breakfast. Have you ever ridden tandem before?”

She shook her head.