Author's Note: Alright, I've made it one of my resolutions this year to write a lot more. We'll see how that goes…
Amalda closed up shop quickly. She felt giddy. She could hardly believe that Willy Wonka had come to see her. Sought her out, actually, out of concern for her wellbeing. She giggled quietly to herself. Maybe she should send Belinda a thank you note.
Stepping into Julia's, Amalda let the ambiance of the cafe soothe her jangling nerves. The interior was covered in dark wood paneling and lit with old-fashioned warm yellow lanterns set into the walls. The wooden booths had tall backs, solid barriers that allowed each table a modicum of privacy, and thickly padded benches. It wasn't unusual for Amalda to curl up in one of those booths after a long day in the shop, with her own book to enjoy over dinner.
Julia herself was at the counter when Amalda entered and she nodded toward the back corner. Amalda grinned at her as she realized Julia had seated Willy at Amalda's favorite booth.
As she approached the table, she saw Willy sitting awkwardly, fiddling with a water glass. He'd set aside his top hat and his curls were somewhat disheveled, as if he'd run his hands through them nervously while he waited.
She slid into the booth across from him with a smile. Willy straightened, folding his hands on the table and giving her a small, crooked smile in return. Oh, she had forgotten how brilliantly blue his eyes were. She cleared her throat. "Hungry?" she asked him, reaching for a menu.
Willy reached out and touched her hand, stopping her from picking it up. "I ordered for us," he said offhandedly. Amalda arched an eyebrow. "Oh, that was...presumptuous of me, wasn't it?" He blushed.
Amalda could have chortled in delight. One minute he was the confident candymaker, and the next he was like a young man who had never been out with a woman before. He was trying so hard. The combination was altogether adorable.
"It's alright," she told him gently. "This is new to me too." Their hands were still touching, and she turned hers palm up so that her fingers tangled lightly with his.
They were still grinning at each other like idiots when their food arrived. It was Amalda's turn to blush as she pulled back, but as she busied herself with her utensils she couldn't help glancing up at Willy from under lowered lashes. Only to find him watching her with a bashful expression that mirrored her own.
She laughed softly. "So, you've been corresponding with Belinda?" she prompted, then took her first bite. She blinked in surprise and looked at her plate. She had no idea what Willy had ordered her, but it was delicious.
He launched into the story of how his pen pal relationship had developed and Amalda found herself listening closely. She felt a little guilty about how jealous she was. Willy hadn't written to her. Why would he? Belinda had something to offer him. What could Amalda possibly do for him? But in spite of herself, Willy seemed so genuinely happy to have a friend that it was hard to begrudge him that.
And he was here having dinner with her now.
Amalda took it upon herself to order dessert, telling him it was only fair since he had ordered the entrees.
Willy just grinned and gave her a nod. "You were going to tell me about your bookshop?" he asked.
"Oh, it's been a bit of a dream," she laughed. "I missed a few days of work, ah, recuperating, and apparently some of the children missed my stories. A couple of those children happened to belong to an author, and he introduced me to his publisher. Practically begged the man to take me on if it meant getting his children to calm down so he could write." She gave a little shrug. "Then they found out that I had plenty of stories to tell and the first one did well, so now I just keep sending them."
She paused. "The publisher recognized my name from the papers. I think the unintentional publicity helped."
"What a fortuitous turn of events," Willy murmured in that mysterious way of his. Amalda wondered if he realized it made him sound like he planned these things himself, somehow. "And the shop?"
"Another fortuitous turn of events," she said, mimicking his voice. "Early on, I was worried. What if my book didn't sell, you know? I didn't think I could stay at the zoo forever. I was walking past this bookshop and I just...went inside. I didn't really have a plan. I halfway thought maybe I could ask them to carry my book, since I didn't know if any shops would even order copies. Instead, I asked for a job."
She huffed a laugh. "And that's how I met the Wintorps, who it turned out were looking to sell their shop and move out of town to be closer to their son's family and their grandchildren."
Willy blinked. "So they...gave it to you?"
"They gave me a job. It was only after the books started doing well that we talked about the rest." She set her empty plate aside and leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. "I'll be paying for it for a while, but for the first time in my life, I'm not worried about the money."
"It does sound like something from a fairytale," Willy sighed with a smile.
"No wilder than one you could tell. Or Charlie, for that matter. The boy who won the golden ticket contest."
Willy reached across the table and took Amalda's hand in his. "Your father," he said, meeting her eyes, "would be so proud of you."
Her breath hitched. So few people knew anything about her father. Even her co-workers at the zoo hadn't really known him. But Willy Wonka, full of the same type of wild dreams that had driven her father, he understood. She squeezed his hand. "Can I tell you a secret?" she asked, leaning forward.
Willy's eyes shone and he also leaned in across the table until they were only a few inches apart, cocking his head curiously. Amalda angled her head closer to his ear.
"I think my father would have liked you," she whispered tremulously. She was close enough that her breath disturbed the curls around his ear. She could see the way his eyes widened at the sensation, the fine shiver that rippled down his shoulders. He turned to meet her eyes and she felt like she could drown in those pools of brilliant blue. She let herself stare for a long moment, and then deliberately lowered her eyes. To his lips.
An invitation. She saw his lips part in a small gasp as he realized it.
Willy had kissed her before, but it had been unexpected, if not necessarily unwelcome.
Now she wanted to experience it with her full and willing consent.
His fingers tightened on hers. His eyes drifted shut. And—
"Mally!"
Amalda jolted back in her seat with a squeak, her hands coming up to cover her mouth as she blushed in embarrassment at the sound she'd made.
A young man hovered by the booth with a sheepish grin, his caramel eyes darting back and forth between Amalda and Willy. He ran a hand through his unruly blonde hair awkwardly. "Umm am I interrupting?"
"No, not at all!" Her voice was still too high-pitched and she fluttered her hands at him, then buried them in her lap under the table and cleared her throat, her face still burning. "What can I do for you?"
He gave her a grin. "Just came by to drop off the latest sketches! I thought I'd catch you before you left." He produced a small folio and held it out to her, glancing at Willy again curiously.
Amalda nodded. Typically she would still be in the shop for an hour or two after closing, tidying up, restocking, and taking care of any number of small housekeeping duties. She accepted the folio, sliding aside her empty dishes to clear a place for it on the table. As she flipped it open, she said as casually as she could, "Damien is the illustrator for all of my books. I knew his style was perfect for me the second he wandered into the shop and offered me a little sketch of a lion." She nodded between the two men. "Damien, this is...my friend, Willy." Her blush returned full force, but she doubted he'd want the attention that came with being introduced as Mr. Wonka.
Willy was still awkwardly frozen, half-leaning over the table with one hand stretched across it. He blinked once, twice, and then his brows knit together in a small frown as if he was only just beginning to process the stranger that had intruded on their dinner. He nodded to Damien, a bit stiffly.
Amalda dropped her eyes to the first of the sketches before her and hummed in approval. "Oh, these are fabulous!" She flipped through a few pages, barely noticing as Damien sidled around the edge of the booth to peer over her shoulder.
"Oh, stahhhp," he drawled teasingly. "You make it so easy, with the way you describe things. This one is my personal favorite." He leaned down to tap one of the drawings, the motion bringing him close enough that Amalda was suddenly aware of the heat of his body against her side, and of the arm that he'd braced on the back of the booth that now practically encircled her shoulders. She stared at the drawing he'd pointed to without seeing it. Why was he still so close to her? Why hadn't he pulled back?
She darted a glance at him and found his attention focused on Willy, even as he hovered over her. There was something arrogant in his expression as he asked, "Oh, are you a fan? I've been working with Mally since day one." His hand closed on her shoulder and Amalda tensed.
Willy's eyes went to those fingers that curled possessively around her, but he merely drew his hand back from the center of the table and rested his chin against it as he eyed Damien with twinkling eyes. His toothy grin was full of mischief and Amalda found she was holding her breath. "As long as all that?" Willy said nonchalantly, "My, you two do go back." The sarcasm was unmistakable and Amalda pursed her lips to keep from laughing. Willy's eyes slid to hers and he gave her a wink.
She did laugh then, though from Damien's scowl he didn't appreciate being made the butt of a joke he didn't fully understand. She patted his hand once and then twisted free of his grip under the guise of placing the folio safely under her bag and coat. "Thanks for dropping these off. Why don't you stop by the shop tomorrow and we can go over them?"
He frowned and for a moment she thought he was going to try to find a way around the dismissal. "Well, since I'm already here—"
"Oh, look!" Willy perked up suddenly. "Dessert!"
Damien shuffled aside reluctantly as Julia placed the decadent chocolate concoction in the center of the table, presenting them each a fork with a grandiose gesture and a sharp look at Damien. He looked between the two of them and the shared dessert, assessing, and then his countenance flipped completely. "Okay I'll see you tomorrow Mally, byyeeee!" he said with an airy wave as he breezed out of the cafe.
Julia, who had never been a fan of Damien, gave an exasperated huff. She opened her mouth to comment, then took a closer look at Amalda's face and merely shrugged, leaving the two of them alone again.
Willy's eyes had followed Damien until the door shut behind him, but then he looked at Amalda slyly, that same mischievous grin on his face. "Boyfriend? Beau? Lover?" he asked. "Your number one fan?"
Amalda sighed, but her lips twitched as she stabbed her fork into the cake. "Are you trying out names for yourself?" she asked sweetly, before popping the bite into her mouth and rolling her eyes in delight at the rich taste.
A flash of delight briefly lit Willy's face, followed by a wistful longing and something else that was intense enough to send a jolt of electricity down her spine. Then he blinked at the dessert. "What is that?"
"I have no idea," Amalda said around another forkful. "Cake. Fudge. Chocolate. If you want any, you'd better hurry up." She glanced at him slyly. "Julia only uses the best ingredients."