Chapter 1: My Very Boring Life

"Hey, Rhi! What time are you off today?" my manager asked, approaching me at the information desk, as if she didn't know, since she made the schedule.

"In about an hour...why?" I answered, as if we both didn't know why she was asking. Everyone knew that I would stay late if they needed me to. What else did I have to do? I had no family nearby, no friends...no life.

"Margie is going to be late...something about her car...can you stay an extra hour...until 5 or so? I'll buy you a smoothie for the road," Laura promised in a pleading tone.

I acted like I needed convincing, but then nodded my head, "As long as it's a LARGE smoothie!"

Laura laughed, "You got it! Just stay at the info desk until she gets here...you're the best!"

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I never realized before how slowly time ticks by when you're literally counting the minutes...even on a computer screen where no ticking is involved. It was only 4:30 and since late Sunday afternoons in the middle of the summer were our slowest times, I really regretted agreeing to stay.

The main thing I liked about my job at the book store was digging for what people wanted with only a few clues to go on. Ah, yes, a non-fiction title about the Russian revolution written in the 1980s with a tree on the front? Got it! A favorite story from your childhood about giraffes and hippopotamuses that might have had a red cover? Here it is!

The problem was, I could only make up so many of these questions in my head before it became about watching the clock and waiting for...

"Excuse me?"

I must have really zoned out. Standing in front of me was a guy about my age - mid 20s - with dark curly hair, gorgeous amber eyes, and the most adorable smile. He was carrying one of the cafe's to-go cups...and he looked really familiar...

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir. What can I help you with?"

"No problem...I know how hard it is to stay focused when there isn't a lot to do...can you help me find a book that I read when I was a kid?"

"Sure...tell me what you remember about it." Where did I know him from?

"Unfortunately, I've forgotten the title, but it had a blue cover, and the pictures are sort of cartoon line drawings, and it rhymed, and it was about cats in different countries...my brother Chuck's little girl is starting to get comfortable reading on her own, and she loves cats, and I figured it would be perfect for her birthday...and we have now entered the Too Much Information Zone, haven't we?" he asked with a sheepish grin.

I chuckled. "It's okay...that's a lot more information...about the book, I mean...than most people give me...hold on a sec and I'll see what I can find." Had he been in the bookstore before?

I tried not to stare at him, and started typing, the search soon absorbing my attention. "Ah, got it!" I turned the monitor around so he could see the cover, and he exclaimed, "That's it! 'Cats in Boxes!' You're brilliant! Please tell me you have it...her birthday is in a week, and she's getting a cat, and I'll need some time to get it to her in San Francisco and...I'm rambling again. Sorry...must be the caffeine," he trailed off, indicating the coffee cup, still smiling broadly.

This oddly familiar looking stranger was irresistible. I returned the smile, replying, "You've got to appreciate an uncle who buys books as gifts. But, I've got bad news and good news."

He tried to look concerned, "Give me the bad news first. I can take it."

I returned his mock serious look. "We don't have the book in stock..."

Now my new favorite customer looked genuinely crestfallen...

"But..." I continued, "we could ship it to her. It's guaranteed to get there in three business days. We could have a card put in it so she knows it's from you. And, I don't know any five-year-olds that don't love to get mail."

He literally jumped for joy. "That's a great idea! Wait...how do you know she's going to be five? Did I tell you that when I was spewing details?"

I laughed outright this time. "No, I'm getting a master's in early childhood education, and that's one of the first things they teach you. Humans learn to read when they're about five years old. It's more like six or seven for cats."

He nodded sagely, until he realized what I had said about cats. Then, he burst out laughing, and put his hand on my arm. "You're great!...Rhi?" he said questioningly after looking at my name tag. He even pronounced it correctly - it rhymes with tea, NOT pie. "What a unique name...hmm...that must be short for..."

"Rhiannon!" he said triumphantly, which I echoed with resignation...

"Like the..." he started.

"Fleetwood Mac song," I finished. "My parents were major fans, and it was always going to be their first daughter's name...or their first dog's." I tried to turn back to the computer, now embarrassed that I had shared a bit too much personal information myself.

Strangely, though, Mr. Adorable's hand was still on my arm, which I couldn't help but stare at like it was on fire. He squeezed it comfortingly, which for some reason caused me to look into his eyes, and he said very seriously, "It's a lovely name."

"Thank you," I responded quietly. Then more forcefully, as if to bring myself back to reality, I said, "Okay! Let's get this order placed so your niece can get her book on time. What's your first name?"

He removed his hand in what seemed like slow motion, and replied with a wide grin, "Darren," spelling it for me after I asked him to.

"And your last name?"

"Criss. Would you like me to spell that also?" he asked in an odd tone of voice.

"Oh, just like the guy on..." looking back up into those luminous golden eyes, I trailed off...

My very boring life had just gotten a lot more interesting...