Chapter 2 CHA

Henry Luther

Shit, she was adorbs. Not just adorbs, smoldering hot, too. But there was something in the way she looked at him, the way her mouth perpetually seemed on the brink of curving into a smile, that made him go over to her.

"Hey, Lydia," Henry spoke up as she raised her eyes to his, blinking as if he were an apparition.

She'd gazed down at her name tag, where he'd learned her lovely name. And then she'd gazed up at him.

"Hello," she'd said. "Would you like. could I get you something? I think we close our kitchen now, but..." She'd looked over her shoulder at the kitchen. She was nervous, and that just made her prettier.

And she was already beautiful, with fire-red hair spilling over her shoulder in soft waves, and large brown, round eyes that dared him to fall into them.

"Yeah," Henry answered. "Your number."

She blinked at him. "What?

"He's a little forward," Henry said. "Sorry about that. You're just the most beautiful thing he's seen in a long, long time. And he can't pass up the opportunity to spend some time with you."

She blinked at him before her cheeks flushed.

"I'm not a thing," she bristled.

Henry laughed. Oh, God. Feisty, too. She was the whole package.

"He just said you're pretty, and all you got was that he said thing?"

She shrugged. "I don't like being treated like the staff."

Henry laughed again. "He wasn't trying to treat you like the staff. Bad choice of words. You're the most beautiful woman he's seen in a very long time. Better?"

She bit her lip, then nodded self-consciously.

Shit. Already, she was getting him out of his head. Henry smiled.

"And he'd like to spend some time with you. Would you care to have a drink with him?"

She hesitated.

"There's still time before you close, isn't there?" Henry asked.

"I'm not supposed to drink while I work," she said.

"Who's going to know?" Henry asked. "We're the only ones here."

As she looked around, she saw he was right. There weren't any other customers remaining. Everyone else had shut down and gone home. It was five minutes to twelve, and there was still plenty of time to serve a few more beers.

She replayed it in her mind, Henry could see she was thinking. And it was bloody hot.

"Okay," she finally said.

Henry grinned at her. "Okay."

She disappeared and a moment later, she returned with two beers.

They walked over to the table where Henry sat with his college buddy, Savon, and his girlfriend, Heppie.

"So, Lydia," Henry welcomed them as they sat down.

"Most people call me Lydia," she answered. "The name tag is formal." She touched her fingers to the tag on her chest.

"Savon."

She smiled. "Hi, Henry."

Henry smiled at the pronunciation of his name from her lips.

"So, Lydia, what do you do? Besides working here?"

"I'm a student," she said. "Majoring in art."

Henry whistled between his teeth. "That's impressive."

"Is it?

"Surely," said Henry. She blushed at the compliment. He only admired a great deal of art students. It was a difficult career-it was all about passion to them because most of them did not advance very far in the career of art. Studying money out of something like that, regardless of how much you were passionate about it, was not simple.

"What about you?" she asked.

He graduated from college last year. He's just completing an internship now.

"So, what are you going to do, then?" she asked.

Henry gulped beer. "Business school."

"Seriously?"

Henry nodded. "He wants to make a difference, you know? But not in the way most people say they want to."

"How, then?"

"Gourmet food."

She laughed, and Henry was done. He could get addicted to that sound.

Hey, she replied, nudging him lightly in the shoulder and savoring the touch.

Good food brings people together. And it makes a profitable business, too.

"I agree with your passion. Where is your school?"

"New York."

Did he hallucinate, or did her face droop?

Henry was departing for New York City in two days to start graduate school. He'd worked long and hard to get where he was at, and he'd work even harder when he got to the Big Apple.

"When do you leave?" she asked.

Henry paused, deciding whether or not to tell her. He didn't want to scare her off.

"In two days."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, soon."

Henry nodded.

Leaving was bittersweet. He loved LA, but he needed to take this next step. An MBA would open a lot of doors for him. And he had big plans.

"Well, he's sure you'll do well in grad school," Lydia said. "It sounds like you're passionate about your future business."

Henry nodded. "Absolutely. What's the point if there's no passion?"

"Only so," she said. "Which is why I'm doing art, despite what I know everybody else has to say about it."

"He thinks it's noble," Henry said. "What kind of art do you do?"

"I paint," she said, her eyes brightening.

"Ah. What do you prefer to paint?"

"Anything," she said, spinning a lock of her fiery hair. "Landscapes, abstract. But portraits are the best. I adore people's faces. They always say something."

She smiled up at him. Her eyes were mesmerizing. Henry knew he was departing shortly, but he had to get to know her better. Something about her beckoned him, urged him to step closer, to find out what made her tick.

"Are you single?" Henry asked.

His query took him as aback as it did her.

"Yeah," she said, and a something flashed across her face too quickly for him to read.

"Lucky him," Henry said and grinned at her.

She laughed, and it was beautiful. Deep and rich and real.

"Yeah, I guess you are."

Henry took a swallow of his beer. "So, what do you do when you're not waiting tables at Café Noir or creating art?"

"Being a full-time student and working take up most of my time," she admitted.

"What are you doing tonight?" asked Henry.

She shrugged. "After locking up and erasing all evidence of my disobeying the rules tonight-" she winked at him "-I'm probably going home and getting a good night's sleep so that I'm up early for classes again tomorrow."

"That's too bad," said Henry.

"So why?"

"Because he was hoping you'd come out with him to celebrate."

She blinked at him. "What are we celebrating?"

"The fact that he met the most beautiful woman he's ever seen." Henry grinned at her and watched as she went bright red.

"Oh, you are smooth, Henry. But meeting me is hardly worth celebrating."

"Oh, Lydia," Henry said, leaning in. "Have you seen you?"

She blushed again and Henry leaned in, putting his hand on her arm. He couldn't help himself. She was drawn to him.

"So, what do you say?" Henry asked. "When you're done here, would you like to go with him?"

"Where are we going?" she asked, her breathy voice barely audible.

"Wherever you'd like."

"For someone as put together as you are, I'd think you'd have an answer for that question already," she said.

Henry laughed. "You think he looks put together?"

"Don't you?" she asked. "I mean, look at you." She slid her eyes over his body, and Henry relished the way she looked at him. "You're definitely the type of guy to command a boardroom."

Henry laughed. "Is it that obvious that he's a business major? He couldn't pass for a carpenter, or a lumberjack?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? A lumberjack? I can just picture you in plaid and boots, looking up at a tree, wondering how much you'll have to bribe it to topple over for you."

Henry erupted into laughter. "Bribe it?

Well, I can see you exercise," she stammered, blushing. "But your hands aren't calloused like those of a man who runs a chainsaw as a livelihood." She grasped his hand and enclosed both her hands over his. At contact, electricity flashed between them and Henry's breath caught in his throat. She gazed up at him before inspecting his hand.

Henry liked the feel of her hands on him, her skin smooth and soft, and her fingers dexterous. She had paint spots on her hands, and the spots were adorable.

Henry edged closer so that their heads were noses bent together, studying his hand.

"So, you believe he'll be better at doing deals than felling trees?" Henry asked. His voice was a bit rough.

She gazed up at him again and her face was inches away from his, he could see the flecks of gold glinting in those big brown eyes.

"Yeah. And it's good for the planet."

Henry laughed. He could smell her shampoo on her hair. He lifted his other hand and brushed her hair from behind her ear. Her eyes were locked on his, and when he leaned forward to kiss her, she closed them.

When their lips met, the same incredible electrical tingling happened to him that had when she'd kissed his hand. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and she moaned softly.

The moan was erotic and sent his cock into harden in his pants.

Henry wrapped his fingers around her cheek and kissed her more forcefully, trying to show her the effect she was having. He put his hands on her back and slid them up over her shoulders and into her hair as he pulled her into him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He breathed in his scent, which made him dizzy.

When they finally broke apart from each other to look into the other's faces, she was breathing hard as though she'd run a mile and her eyes were darker and deeper. Her lips were slightly parted.

"Go home with him," Henry counseled.

She moved back a little.

Shit, did he ruin it?

"I have to clean up and close the café," she said.

Henry nodded. "He'll help you."

They stayed there. Everyone else had left, and Henry helped her close up. They tipped the chairs onto the tables for the cleaning people to clean next morning, wiped down the counters, and she turned on the large industrial dishwasher that someone had initiated previously.

All the while, Henry could not take his eyes off her. He watched her work, trailing behind her as they did. She was lovely and poised, doing everything slowly, as if it actually mattered. Her bright red hair flowed down her back like a fire as she worked in the dim lighting. When she glanced at him occasionally, her eyes were deep. Her face suggested she was as eager to get out of here as he was.

When she'd finished the shop and had locked the door behind her, she turned to him.

"I don't do this," she stated.

"Help clean up the shop?"

She laughed. "No. Go home with a man I've just met. It's not typically. my style."

"Okay," Henry answered. What if she changed her mind? He needed her so much, but he did not want to persuade her to do something she did not want to. "Are you sure that you want to do this?"

"Yes, I am. But I just wanted you to know it."

Henry nodded. "Removed. And he's thankful."

She nodded, too.

"So, which way?" she asked.

Henry took her hand and brought it to his lips, pushing his mouth against her knuckles.

"This way," Henry breathed and led her to his car.