She arrived at Starbucks five minutes late - she didn't want to appear too eager. He was already there, just as she'd known he would be. Their eyes met, and he nodded his greeting. She joined him in the line in front of the register. He didn't say a word until it was their turn to order. "I'll have an espresso." He turned to her. "What would you like?"
"I'll order my own."
"Please. I insist." His eyes held that puppy-dog look she'd always found so hard to resist.
"Very well. I'll have the same, then." She smiled. "Thank you."
"Would you like something to eat?"
"No, thanks. Just the coffee's fine."
They took their drinks to a nearby table, and Louis pulled a chair out for her, just as Henry had on their first date. That seemed like forever ago now.
"Thank you." She gave him a nod and a smile as she sat down. He sat across from her. They stared at one another for a moment, then shared a laugh.
"Um, I'm no good at this." Louis extended an inviting hand. "You go first."
"Very well." She cleared her throat as she gazed into his dark brown eyes. "What would you like to know?"
"Um ... well, whatever you'd like to share." He let out a nervous laugh. She was overcome with the need to put him at ease. It was an alien feeling. Henry had never come anywhere close to moving her in a similar way.
"I'm twenty-seven years old," she began. "I work at the Aquarium of the Americas. I've been divorced for about a year and a half now. My father's an attorney, and I have a brother, George, and a sister, Mary."
"I see." He took a sip of his espresso but made no further comment.
"I believe it's your turn." Anne understood first date nervousness, but would she have to pull every word out of him as if she were extracting teeth?
"Oh, yes. Sorry." He blushed. "Well, there's not much to say. My Dad owns his own business. My brother Joseph was supposed to take it over, but he died in a car accident when he was sixteen."
"I'm sorry." She couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to lose George.
"That's all right. He got drunk at a party and crashed into a tree on the way home."
"How old were you when that happened?"
"Thirteen. I woke up one Saturday morning to find my grandmother there and my parents gone. She told us that they'd had to go to the hospital because Joseph had been hurt. Several hours later, they came back and told us that he was gone."
"Us?"
"I have a younger brother, Charlie, and a younger sister, Elizabeth."
"I've always loved the name 'Elizabeth.' If I ever have a little girl of my own..." Her voice trailed off as she stared intently down at her espresso. It all came flooding back. Henry ... the miscarriage ...
"Are you all right?" His voice was warm with concern as his hand lightly touched hers. She gazed up into his eyes and felt a sudden rush of affection.
"I'm fine. Just another memory from the past, but thanks for asking." Her voice was soft. "So have you ever been married?" She was desperate to change the subject, but as soon as she saw the deep pain in his eyes, she knew that she'd asked the wrong question. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business; I shouldn't have asked."
They sat in awkward silence for what seemed to Anne like half an hour but in reality was no more than a minute. Well, now I've blown it, she told herself. Her eyes were on the verge of tearing up when he spoke.
"You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. They're like bottomless dark pools." He blushed again. "Ah, forget I said anything. I'm such a clumsy oaf!"
"Oh, no, no. That's all right. I'm flattered." Louis brought out the maternal instinct in her, something Henry had never done. At the same time, his obvious simple, honest admiration made her feel special. "You're very kind."
"I'd like to think so." He looked a bit less uneasy, which in turn made her feel much better. "Well, I guess we'd better finish our drinks before they get cold."
The coffee doesn't really matter, Anne wanted to say, but didn't. Hers was almost gone, anyway. An uncomfortable silence followed, broken at last by Louis. "Well, I suppose I've kept you long enough."
"I've enjoyed talking and getting to know you," Anne assured him.
"Really?" He seemed stunned.
"Really. I'd love to see you again, Louis."
He beamed like a schoolboy who'd just won a baseball game. "Here's ... here's my cell number, and my home number, of course. And ... and here's my email, and I'm on Facebook and Twitter, too," she told him.
"And here are mine." Louis scribbled his telephone number and email address on a napkin and handed it to her. She had to laugh at his eagerness. "I'm home most evenings and weekends."
He walked with her to her car and waited to make sure it started. He watched until she pulled out of the lot and had turned safely into the flow of traffic.
He felt the queerest mixture of euphoria and despair as he drove back to his small apartment. He simply couldn't get over how lovely she was. Just who do you think you are, Louis Bourbon, to think a woman like her would want anything to do with the likes of you? he asked himself.
Joseph would have swept her off her feet, he knew. Joseph had had all the charm he, Louis, lacked. He'd known just the right thing to say and do in every situation, and he'd been their father's pride and joy. Louis, Sr. had been devastated by the loss of his eldest son and had never recovered.
Lost in bitter reminiscing, Louis almost ran a stop sign but slammed on brakes just in time. With a sigh, he continued on his way with only a Katy Perry CD for company.