I've never seen Cafe Dollop this busy on a stale Sunday morning. Most mornings this place doesn't fill up until sleepy hung over college students roll out of bed around 10 a.m. I keep checking the clock. Why do I have to work this fast at 7 A.m. on a rainy Sunday morning? Then it hits me as a black Suburban parks outside the bank across the street. There is a frenzy of journalists swarming around the gas guzzler. This is a spectacle for Keene, New Hampshire.

I squint my eyes to see so many attractive women dressed in beige skirts and matching blouses. They fluff their hair all the while holding a microphone or a pen and notepad. Holy shit...what has happened? I walk around the counter and pull a newspaper from the stack on the floor. The Reformer seems bleak. The articles above the fold are about the upcoming election to take place in November. I must admit, I've never been into politics but surely I would have heard about the President coming to the Monadnock region. I turn it over displeased with the lack of gossip in the coffee shop this morning then I remember the string of sexual assaults on the campus and around the bars . I'm ashamed of myself for forgetting just how on edge young women in Keene have been, myself included.

"Cia, what is up with the swarm of media over there?" I point as if I'm the only one who notices. "I can't believe all the activity at the bank."

She scoffs. "Have you been living under a drug induced haze for the past year? It has nothing to do with the bank. Remember that attack in the back of Mac's Pub? " She smiles at a man in a back jacket and hands him his change for a large coffee. He seems interested in the crowd across the street too.

I turn to face her and squint my eyes while making a goofy expression ." Of course I do, she was in Research Methods. Did they catch the psycho?" I take an English muffin from the toaster oven and set it on a small paper plate then reach for the peanut butter and twist the lid.

"Psychos, plural." She whips some cream and pours it on a latte then hands it to an older gentlemen wearing a geeky yellow raincoat.

"When? I had no idea ?" I want to add I feel super inferior to her but I don't. It's already an unsaid fact between us. We have been friends since freshman year.

"It's been determined that there is more than one sicko...a group of them who distribute drugs. I guess they found some evidence in the back of Mac's that's pretty promising." She stands on her tip toes and calls for the girl who ordered the specialty drink of the morning. A tall blonde gets up from her seat in the corner, she's beautifully dressed in tight black jeans and a hot pink cardigan. I secretly loathe her perfection. She's oozing sex appeal and will power.

"They didn't catch anyone, yet." She eyes me behind long black eyelashes. Why does she wear makeup and how does she know this? "It's not in the paper." She smiles and takes a sip, careful not to mess her pale pink lipstick. "That's off the record, of course. But when they do, Keene will be able to rest for a while at least."

I am at a loss for words, I had never seen a woman this beautiful and all I ever see are attractive women dressed in expensive clothes day in a day out. But she is by far a 9 maybe even a 10. I shake my head at my own ludicrous rating. She turns around and I take mental note of her body, she's slim and pristine, a real pure bred. I sigh and look down my black smock. I'm wearing fake Crocs for Christ's sake.

Suddenly well I dwell on my lack of appearance, Cia gasps. "Look at that." she points to the media hive. The black suburban door has opened and all we can see if a frenzy of women and a couple of men holding note pads back away and give the passenger space to step out and avoid a puddle. Even from sixty feet away I can see the change of color in the crowd of women and they are losing their composure fast. Then it is clear why all these people have turned up looking their best. The guy who just shut the door is a man who walked out of heaven. He's simply hot. Hot and Blonde.

"Oh my god, will you look at that." I shake my head. It's all can say. "I mean, look at him, just look at him." Cia laughs because I know this guy isn't our type. He's too perfect."He looks like a frigging' Greek statue that has come to life." I gasp. I turn red and I'm sweating. Even under his crisp striped black and white button down, this man has zero ounces of fat on him but he's tall and triangular and he's turning around facing us, well the café, that is.

"He can probably see us, you know." Cia never gets flustered by a man like this. "What do we do?" We giggle and the pure bred in the corner shifts. I have a strange feeling she knows him because she's not interested in gawking at him like we are.

"Holy shit, he's walking over here." my knees are shaking and I can barely concentrate on my English muffin I made for breakfast. "Oh my god, he's crossing the street, he's staring at the door. He is coming in here." with in ten yards of the door, we straighten up. I turn around and fumble with some tea bags and put them in a place they don't even belong. I gaze at Cia who is making a tall coffee and she doesn't even drink the stuff. We're completely out of sorts. He opens the door and I've seen an angel.

"Hi." This mystery man knocks on the wooden counter and I turn around to face him. He isn't smiling, but there is a hint of humor on his face. I stare at his pale pink lips.

"Hi." I swallow, Cia walks over and pushes me to the side because it's obvious I forgot how to say "what can I get for you?"

She giggles slightly and this mystery greek god looks unimpressed. shit. not a good sign. "Yes, I'll take a large black coffee with room for cream." His eyes scan the large chalk board on the wall above the row of syrups." Make it a medium roast." I watch his eyes and he is careful not to make eye contact with either one of us. The rejection is enough to promote thoughts of just curling up and freezing to death in the cooler.

I give up and turn around but Cia disturbs my uncomfortable anguish by saying my name ever so slightly. "He's ordered a breakfast sandwich." I must have tuned out since I didn't hear his order. I look over my shoulder and his eyes are burning my profile. He must find me inadequate for a barista. I clear my voice and pat my apron. "What would you like?"

He actually looks amused instead of annoyed this time and I can't believe he's making eye contact. I must have something on my face or in my hair. I can't find any words, this man's face is too desirable. He's a freaking ten. Last time I checked, I was about a five, during ovulation. "I'll take an egg and cheese bagel, please. Can you extra toast the bagel?" I just nod. He must think I'm slower than death.

I pause and take a deep breath. "um, of course." I twirl around and fumble for the bags of bagels. "Um, would you like a plain?" but no response. I scan the tables and my stomach drops, he's sitting next to Pure Bred. I grumble and Cia stoops next to me. Simultaniously we both sigh. "Make it plain." I take a plain bagel out of the long plastic bag and put it in the toaster. While I'm doing this, I feel as though I'm being watched. I shuffle back and forth. I try to listen to what the gorgeous couple is saying but their muffled voices make it inpossible to understand. I grab the eggs and heat them up in the microwave along with a sausage. Holy hell, he's looking in my direction or someone is. I can feel it. Suddenly I hear that familiar knock on the counter top. I stop adjusting the sausage on the plate. Take it easy, just be cool and calm.

"My partner wants a tea." The Angel points to the corner and I feel a strong urge to cringe.

I give up, I can relax my stomach. There's no chance in hell this guy has any interest in me. "Sure, what kind does she want?" I walk with purpose to the boxes of tea. "Lotus, Calm, Earle Grey..."

I face him and he's pouting. I suddenly feel as though he's disappointed by my ease. We lock eyes for an instance. Be cool, Ella.

"Lotus." He grins and hands me a twenty. His wallet is sleek and black just like his ride.

"Sure" I mutter and watch his eyes search my messy apron. I take a tea bag and pour some hot water. "Nineteen is your change..." he holds out his hand. "Thanks," he pauses and I realize he's looking at my name tag. "Ella. Thanks Ella. I think my sandwich is ready," he smirks. "Just saying."

"Ah, yes, of course." My eyes linger on his. "Sorry about that."

"Is it hard to concentrate on Sundays?" He fingers the crack in the wood counter top and he picks up a scone I know he's not interested in buying. Is he lingering? I nervously eye the blonde in the corner with a manilla folder open. She is hungrily eyeing whatever it is that's on those pages. "With all this commotion going on."

"Commotion?" Please, a stud like you is hard enough to act around. Then I remember the assualted women. I shudder and instinctively rub my arms. " I don't know too much about it. It's not something I like to think about being a young woman and all." Oh Christ, I sound like such a moron. I clear my voice again. "I assume you're investigating it."

He grimaces and points to his badge. "Yes, ma'am."

Ma'am...I'm only twenty-three. "You look like a cop." I gulp. I'm such a sap sometimes.

He laughs. "I'm a detective.. a young detective. Anyways, you've got some work to do and if you have any ideas since you must see a lot of strange things during the day or go to most of the bars around town I'd like you to contact me."

Holy shit. "Um, what?"

"Here's my card." He smiles and wraps a five dollar bill around it. "Tip."

I'm stunned, he just gave me a means to contact him without asking me out. I simply pass it off, carefull not to show I'm excited. "well, hopefully i can help."

"Yes, hopefully." He turns around and asks his partner who is also an investigator if she's ready. She nods and does not look nervous around him. I entertain the idea that she's a lesbian. Foolish of me, but how could a woman not be frazzled by this guy? I shake my head and when I look up he nods at Cia and I then opens the door for Pure Bred.

"Cia, did that just happen?" I flick the card in my hand and shove the five dollar tip into the jar. "He just gave me his card and his name is Jason." He does not strike me as a Jason.

Cia pouts but she doesn't seem jealous. She has her men lined up like a row in football. "Call him."

"What? are you kidding me?" I cross my arms and roll my eyes are her. She shoots me a don't you dare look.

"He gave you his card. Call him."

"Cia, he gave me his card if i had any information...I don't."

"Make something up then." She smirks and takes a sip of the tall coffee and makes a face. "I admit it, he's not of this state...but my god I made a coffee because of him." She passes it off to me, which I take with open arms. "Make something up or report a problem." I roll my eyes at her and she thumbs her lip.

"Maybe I can just call him and say hello." I shake my head and wince at the thought of opening my mouth in front of him again. "Maybe I should just throw it away."

Cia shakes her head. "Maybe you should just walk into the street and get it over. He's still outside. Or better yet start believing in yourself and give him a reason to pay attention to you."

"Easy for you to say." I gaze outside and for sure, he's answering questions a man in his early thirties is asking him. He is assertive and strong. His shoulders belong on a football player and his ass is probably one you would find on some advertisement in New York City. "He is pretty handsome, despite his arrogance."

"I didn't get the arrogance vibe, Ella."

"Well I did." I secretly wait for him to turn around and when I've lost hope that he will, he does.