Gentleman Nine(10)



“Something like that.”

***

After work the following day, I decided to roam Cambridge before hopping the train back to Amber’s.

Crowded with college students and homeless people, Harvard Square was bustling. The faint sound of live music registered, although I wasn’t sure exactly where it was coming from.

Passing an outdoor café where a bunch of people were sitting around playing chess, it hit me that sightseeing alone in a new city wasn’t really very much fun, so I called Amber to see if she’d want to join me down here. As luck would have it, she had the night off.

We planned to meet at this small, used bookstore that I’d discovered on Brattle Street. It was tucked away, and you had to go down a few steps to access the door.

The place smelled like burnt coffee and old paper. Rich with eccentricities from corner to corner, it was seriously one of the coolest places I’d ever stumbled upon.

I checked the door every few minutes to see if she’d arrived.

When Amber finally entered the place, I noticed that she was making small talk with a hunched-over old man on her way in. She was the type of person who always noticed people, didn’t just walk by them in a fog, but really noticed them. Amber was smiling and chatting up the man before she finally held the door open for him. That was probably the highlight of the old fucker’s entire year.

I loved observing people when they didn’t know I was watching them. Getting to see how someone conducted themselves in their natural state without knowing they were being watched was a true window into their soul. And Amber had a kind soul. That had always been apparent to me.

I waved at her from the corner table I’d snagged.

Amber unraveled her scarf and took a seat across from me. My eyes fell to her neckline and to her perky breasts that were stretching against her pink, fitted sweater. Her hair was staticky from the cold.

She looked around at the musty shelves. “This place is really cool.”

It smelled like incense all of a sudden. It was coming from the opposite side of the room where a woman with dreadlocks stuffed into a knit cap was selling crystals next to the occult book section. A man played guitar in the other corner.

“It’s like a coffeehouse slash used bookstore. I stumbled upon it and thought you might like it here. I remember you used to read a lot.” I suddenly got up. “I’ll be right back.”

After I fetched us two coffees that were served in ceramic mugs, I returned to my place at the table.

Amber blew on the steaming liquid before she said, “I thought I was supposed to be showing you around, not vice versa. I never even knew this place existed. Really cool find. I could spend all evening in here getting amped up on caffeine and searching for obscure books. Do you think that’s strange?”

“No, actually. That’s why bookstores make good first dates for people. I’ve taken a few women to bookstores—granted not one as cool as this.”

She scrunched her nose. “I wouldn’t have thought that.”

“Well, for one, there’s never a lack of things to talk about. Each book is a conversation piece.”

The corners of her eyes crinkled. “Yeah, but you’re really not getting to know the person if you’re talking about books and not each other.”

“I beg to differ. You can tell a hell of a lot about someone by what they read.”

“Or what they don’t read...if they’ve never picked up a book.”

“Exactly. Now you’re getting my point.”

“I can imagine you’ve dated some women like that…who didn’t read? At least from what I remember…”

“Plenty. And the truth always comes out. Not that I have anything against someone who doesn’t habitually read, but sometimes it can mean there’s an overall lack of interest in things outside of themselves.”

A smile spread across her face. “I’m impressed, Lord. But given some of the girls you used to date, I didn’t think such things mattered to you.”

“Sounds like you’re judging a book by its cover, Amber.” I winked. “See what I did there?”

“I do.” She laughed.

The sound of her laughter brought me back in time to our youth for a moment. There were very few remnants of that time, but her laughter was one of them. Her laughter used to be my medicine.

“I’m not exactly the same guy I was in high school and college.”

“You mean, you don’t…” She coughed intentionally. “Get around anymore?”

“Get around? You mean sleep around…fuck around…right? Just say what you really mean…”

“I was trying to be bookstore friendly.”

“Look around. I’m pretty sure you can say and do anything you want in this place.” I grinned and inhaled a curious scent that smelled an awful lot like marijuana. “By the way, do you smell pot?”

She sniffed the air. “I do.”

I took a sip of my coffee and addressed her previous question. “I still appreciate a pretty face and a hot body, but it takes a lot more than that to thrill me now. A man can only take so much ass before he needs something more. My brain needs to be stimulated just as much as my dick.”

Amber looked a bit flushed. “I see.”

Needing to redirect my mind from focusing on how adorable her blushing was, I said, “You know what else is great about first dates in bookstores?”

Penelope Ward's Books