Barista - Chapter Four

GET BARISTA FOR A BUCK

4

 

Meredith closed down at ten and was home in her apartment by ten-thirty. She changed into comfy pants, her favorite pajama bottoms, and an old folk festival t-shirt.

At any given time, she had as many as five different books going. She’d always read that way, like a child who needed to have every toy in the store. Speed-reading came naturally, so she motored through novels like they were greeting cards.

She really needed to post her review of the last historical she’d read: The Emperor’s Physician. But she’d had severe block the last two nights. And since she’d finished the book, she’d read another four, so the details of the historical were already slipping from her mind. She’d enjoyed it but hadn’t been this-is-the-best-book-ever wowed. She always picked out a good quote to use as a blurb in her review, so she decided to start there with The Emperor’s Physician. Finding a good passage in the book might spark an idea of how to review it.

Her Kindle wasn’t on the coffee table. It also wasn’t on: the end table, the kitchen table, the kitchen counter, on top of the refrigerator, in the refrigerator (don’t ask), in the bathroom, in her closet, on her night stand, in her bedroom chair, on top of her bureau, or on her bed. At first she’d scoffed at the idea of reading a book on a device but had tried it out when her parents got it for her as a birthday present and instantly fell in love.

Problem was, she was always misplacing things and her Kindle, her prized possession these days, was no exception and in fact the most affected.

Meredith went back through the apartment, but just ended up checking all the same places. Kindle-less, blocked, and feeling tired anyway, she decided to hit the hay. After all, she had ten old paperbacks on her night stand. One of those would do the trick. She needed a reading hit every night before falling asleep. Growing up, she’d read so many books late into the night and gotten to explore so many strange worlds and people. She had pitied her friends who didn’t enjoy reading. They were missing out.

She sat on her bed to take her pajama bottoms off and felt something solid on the mattress. She got up, lifted the bedspread and found the Kindle tangled in her sheets.

She resolved yet again to find a particular home for everything, as her mother had constantly urged her growing up.

Feeling more tired than usual, Meredith pulled off her pajama bottoms and climbed into bed. As she did, she remembered she was wearing her granny panties—very hot—and told herself this weekend she would pick up some new underwear. It had been ages since she’d bought herself new underwear and honestly this pair was a little small. She’d put on six pounds in the last year, which wasn’t much in the grand scheme, but it had all gone to her ass which didn’t need the extra padding. She really needed to get back in the gym and maybe lay off the foam lattes. Once upon a time, she’d been a size four.

She was so tired but really had to get that review out. She settled on finding a good passage tonight and leaving the review for tomorrow morning. The historical was one of those in-between books. It was well-written, well-researched and deserved three, possibly four stars out of five, but looking back now it was perfectly forgettable. The thought struck her.

How could she give four stars to a book she was having trouble remembering, let alone writing something thoughtful about it?

Maybe she had to seriously adjust her scoring…but then that wouldn’t be fair to the hundreds of books she’d reviewed in the past.

Meredith pulled her sheets up to her neck and turned on her Kindle. It had been a long few days. Her boss, Dan, had been all over her. And maybe Alana was right. Living like a nun for almost nine (!) months couldn’t be good for her health, physical or mental. She loved living alone and curling up to a good book, but it did get lonely sometimes.

Maybe she was just stressed out and overtired and underpaid. Maybe she needed to exercise more. Maybe these were all reasons why she couldn’t remember the book that well. Maybe she needed to give it another chance.

It was listed on the first screen of her library because she had read it recently, right above that thriller she’d really enjoyed, The Hard Woman.

By Eric Hanlon.

Meredith remembered what Alana had asked her earlier today, about whether Eric Hanlon ever wrote sex scenes.

She opened The Hard Woman.

Normally thrillers all ran together for her, even if she liked them. But she remembered this one pretty well. It was about a woman that killed her abusive husband, framed her husband’s lover for the death, all with the help of her own lover. And she recalled a few sex scenes being in it.

She thumbed The Hard Woman.

She really needed to write her review of the other book, but now she was on a mission. Quickly she scrolled through the thriller. The two main characters were the woman and her lover, Janey and Craig. Her eyes absorbed Hanlon’s easy, deceptively simple prose. About a third of the way into the book, she found the first sex scene.

Despite her orders to the contrary, Craig visited Janey’s house one night while her husband was away on business. He claimed it was because something had happened that would significantly change their plans, but the reader knew the real purpose behind his visit. The two had decided not to see each other until it was all over, but Craig just couldn’t stay away. She was like a drug to him, and he was seriously addicted.

Meredith tapped her way to the next page.

Craig kissed her. On the lips, along her jaw, on her neck. Each kiss a reminder to her of where else his lips had been on her and where they would go again. He knew just how to touch her, to set her heart racing and shorten her breath. His hand was a million degrees through her blouse.

Meredith stopped reading. She remembered Craig was an ex-soldier and worked as a personal trainer. He was tall and buff.

But somewhere between Craig kissed her and on her neck, Craig had stopped looking like Craig and had started resembling Eric Hanlon.

And though the exchange in the story had taken place in the woman’s foyer, in the early afternoon, in her mind Meredith saw everything happening in her own bedroom right now.

She read on.

Janey felt his abs twitch at her touch. Their first night together, she had discovered how ticklish he was. She had explored his toned body with her hands…then with her lips. Each caress making him shudder…

Meredith pulled her eyes away from the Kindle. As she shifted in bed, she was surprised to feel damp between her legs. Alana was right: it had been too long.