Ghosted: Pastries Wallets, And Old Superstitions (Part I)
Ghosted: Pastries Wallets, And Old Superstitions (Part I)
“Can I get another coffee, please?” Molly asked the seemingly jumpy waitress. Removing her glasses, she peered at the woman. “Is everything alright? I know it’s 9:30, but I thought you all stayed open pretty late.”
She nodded. “Yes. It's just there’s a guy who has been staring at you off and on for a while now. He was here earlier before you arrived, so I’m not really sure why he’s back.”
“Where is he?”
“Leaning against the pastry stand. Do you want me to call the manager? One thing Tony doesn't tolerate is creeps.”
Molly stretched her arms outward and faked a yawn while tilting her head to see past the waitress. “You mean the one with the nerdy-looking guy with the pocket protector?”
“Yeah. I hate to say it, but those are the one's you have to look out for the most.”
Seeing her, he darted his eyes behind his phone and pretended to rummage through it, though his attempt not to be caught creepily staring had failed miserably. Chewing his lip, his posture shrank, and he peeked his hazel eyes at Molly again. “Oh yeah, he’s definitely staring.” She intensified her gaze at him, and he almost jumped out of his skin. “Don’t worry about it for now. I will still take that coffee though, please,” she said to the waitress. Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest idea, but the lines of sweat slowly producing on the man’s forehead the more she observed him told her that he was somehow more afraid of her than the opposite.
After the waitress left, Molly raised her finger and pointed at him, and once again he seemed to leave his skin behind. She beckoned, and he fumbled with his sweater and walked shakily to the table. “Any particular reason you’re hiding behind the pastries and staring me down?” she asked.
The tips of his ears reddened, and he shifted his weight. “S-sorry, I um-I just–” He sighed. “I left my wallet over here earlier, and I was hoping that it was still here.”
Molly stifled her laugh. “Why the hell didn’t you just come over here and ask if I’d seen it? You had the waitress about to call Tony.”
"Who is Tony?"
"Someone you don't want to meet."
“Noted. Don't meet Tony. Got it. You also looked busy,” he replied and waved his hands at her laptop and sprawled papers that lay on the table. “It’s rude to interrupt people.”
“It’s rude to also stare.”
He gave a harmonious laugh that caused her to raise her brow. “Now that I replay it in my head, I can definitely see that you have a point.”
The corners of her mouth turned upward a little. “I’m glad that we’re on the same page.” She reached into the red faux leather cushions of her booth and pulled out a tan wallet with insignificant etchings on it. “I assume this is the wallet in question?”
The inner glow of his eyes made his entire face brighten. “Yes! That’s it.” He reached out for it. “I thought I would have had to replace everything. Thank you so mu–”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Molly said, drawing back her hand. “I think for all the awkward staring that I had to endure, I should get something in return.”
“L-like what?”
She grinned. “How about your name?”
His body stiffened at her words. “Really? You want to know my name?”
“Yep. Just a name and I will return your items. I promise.”
“It’s Robert.”
Leaning forward, she handed him his wallet. “Nice to meet you Robert, I’m Molly.”
Robert gave her a small nod before turning around. He wanted his feet to carry him away so that he could continue his night without the chaos that he knew Molly was just by looking at her. Her papers had no organization. She had at least three halfway empty cups of coffee on the table, and for the life of him he couldn’t understand why she was wearing frames that had no lenses. And yet, he found himself struck with the fact that he liked the way her hair bounced even though she was hardly moving.
Her skin reminded him of the desirable, almost forbidden caramel creams he snuck from the candy jar when he was a kid. He liked that her nails were painted firecracker red while he thought he’d made a bold choice in wearing a navy sweater. Her words rolled from her tongue in almost a purr-like sound, immediately invoking his long-lost stutter. And for every bit of chaos that she was in just a few sentences and stolen glances, she’d done something to him. It took just one smile, dear God, that smile to make him realize that it was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen