by Abigail Armani
Rose nodded and smiled cheerily at a departing customer and began clearing the vacated table, piling plates and cups and saucers onto a tray. She wasn't sure what prompted her to look up, but when she did so, she found herself staring into the the bluest pair of eyes she had ever seen. Their owner was certainly worth looking at. He had a rugged and tanned face crowned with a thatch of dark hair that had the first faint flecks of grey at the temples. As she stared at the handsome stranger, his face broke out into a huge grin. It was, she thought later, one of those defining moments in life - an augury of something momentous about to happen.
She responded, involuntarily returning the smile, but then had the awful thought that maybe he wasn't smiling at her at all. Maybe he was communicating with one of the other customers. Feeling foolish, she turned and looked behind her, but the only diners visible from that particular window were sitting with their backs to the window. So - he was smiling at her after all! It made her feel good, but the feeling was fleeting because when she faced the window once more, he had gone. A pang of intense disappointment shot through her, which was irrational since she had never set eyes on the man before.
With a little sigh, she carried on clearing until she was interrupted a few moments later by someone scraping a chair out from beneath the adjacent table. Rose turned, to find she was indeed the object of that roguish smile. The blue eyes twinkled, and the the little laughter lines surrounding them crinkled in a delightful way.
"Hey - can I get a cup of coffee please?" His voice was deep and faintly growly, and he spoke with an American accent
"Of course." She tried to hide her surprise and the rush of pleasure. "What sort would you like? We have Cappuccino, Latte, Americano ..."
"Yes, that's what I'll have - Americano. And maybe a donut or two? You Brits do great donuts."
"Well, I think you may be in luck - there were two left when I last looked. I'll bring them over," she smiled.
At the counter, Cindy stared in open admiration. "Who is THAT?! What a gorgeous hunk of a man!"
"He is rather, isn't he," agreed Rose. "He wants donuts."
"Then donuts is what he shall have!" said Cindy. And before Rose had time to blink, Cindy had grabbed the remaining donuts, flung them on a plate, and sprinted across the café to his table. "Here you go," she smiled. "I hope you enjoy them. Is there anything else I can get you? Anything special you need?" she asked, hopefully.
He shook his head and then appeared to change his mind. "Mmmn - this is real good," he said as he demolished half the donut in one bite. "There is something, if you wouldn't mind?"
"Anything. Anything at all," said Cindy dreamily. She was already planning what to wear when he asked her out. It was just a matter of time. Any minute now, really. She fluttered her lashes and gave him a coquettish look.
"Thanks. Can you tell me her name?"
"What?" Cindy's jaw dropped.
"What's her name? The pretty dark-haired girl who took my order."
"Oh. That's Rose." Cindy tried to hide her disappointment.
"Rose. That's nice. I don't suppose she's married? I didn't notice a ring."
"No. She's not married."
"Boyfriend? I know, I know ... but I've seen her before waiting tables as I walked past. And I said to myself, 'Hank - you gotta get acquainted with that lovely young woman' - so here I am. Think I stand a chance?"
Now that Cindy knew she was well and truly out of the running to get her hands on this American hunk of a man, she did the decent thing. After all, Rose deserved a break. "I think you do, yes," she said. "But go easy on her. She's had a tough time lately."
"Oh?"
"She had been in a long term relationship with this guy, Peter. They lived together at his place. Anyway, she caught him in bed with her best friend. Dirty, stinking rats the both of them," she said vehemently. "And if that wasn't bad enough, Pete moved the other woman in and chucked Rose out."
"That sucks," frowned the American. "That's real bad."
"Yes. So she left York and came to live here in Lincoln. She said she wanted to be miles away from him, and so she is."
"That's useful information. I'm not a stalker or anything. I just like the look of her and I'd like to get to know her better while I'm over here."
"Right - you're on holiday then?"
"Sort of. I have a spot of business to attend to here and I thought I'd combine business with pleasure and take a well-earned vacation. They can manage without me back at the ranch."
"Wow - you're a rancher?"
"Sure am - all the way from Texas," grinned the blue eyed stranger.
"I tell you what. I'll go see where Rose has got to. Shall I tell her to come over to your table?"
"Sure thing. Thanks, little lady."
"You're welcome," said Cindy. She scuttled away to look for Rose.
She found her in the kitchen, looking rather glum. After all, the hunk had been snatched from under her nose by that interfering man-hunter, Cindy.
"Rose - you've got an admirer!"
"I have?"
"Yes, you lucky devil. I wanted him but he only has eyes for you."
"Oh." Rose felt a blush rising to her cheeks. "You're kidding me, right?"
"No, I'm not. Truly - he's a rancher from Texas and he's noticed you and thought it was about time you two got acquainted. I told him I'd send you over to his table."
"I daren't!"
"What do you mean, you daren't? It's easy. Just go over and say Hi."
But now that her big moment had come, Rose felt shy and gauche. She took a quick peep out of the door that led from the kitchen to the café, only to find that he was watching her with obvious amusement.
"Oh!!!" Quickly dodging back into the kitchen she flattened her back against the wall, waving her hands about. "He's seen me! He's looking for me! Help! What do I do now?"
"Well I wish he was looking for ME instead," sniffed Cindy. "Get your ass out there before he changes his mind."
So Rose left the kitchen, her face pink with embarrassment. Maybe he realised she felt awkward at coming over, because he got to his feet and came towards her - all six feet 4 of him.
"Hello, Rose," he smiled. "Your friend told me your name. I hope you don't mind?"
"No. It's fine, really."
He extended a hand. "Pleased to meet you, Rose. The name's Hank. Hank Armstrong."
"Pleased to meet you too," she replied, shaking his proffered hand. It was massive and felt warn and strong.
"I don't suppose I could interest you in a drink and maybe dinner this evening?"
"Um. Well, er ..."
"Of course she will! She finishes here at six," piped up Cindy from behind the counter.
"Oh - you ... you are incorrigible, Cindy," giggled Rose.
"Excellent," beamed Hank. "So - can I whisk you away from here at six, or do you prefer to meet me later? I'm not an axe murderer or anything. I'll take good care of you, I promise. Do you fancy Luigi's? It's the only restaurant I know round here. If there's anywhere else you'd rather go, just say the word."
"Luigi's will be lovely. Shall we say 7 30? I could do with a shower and a change of clothes."
"Great. I would offer to pick you up from wherever it is you live, but I guess you aren't ready to give me your address ... yet," his eyes twinkled. "So, I'll see you at the restaurant."
"Ok. Thanks. I'll look forward to it."
"As will I," he said, depositing some money and his bill on the counter. "I'll be going then. And I'll see you tonight, English Rose."
She nodded, smiling.
"You look cute when you blush," he remarked as he left.
"You've pulled!" said Cindy.
"It seems like it," agreed Rose. "It's just ... well, I'm not sure that I'm ready for it yet."
"Rubbish. It's been three months since that rat Pete pushed you out of his life. It's time to start again and live your life now. Don't let this one slip through the net or I'll never forgive you. Ever!"
"Ok," laughed Rose. "Message received and understood."
"Great. Now - let's discuss the contents of your wardrobe. You, lady, are going to be dressed to kill!"
Rose looked at her reflection in the mirror. She wore her hair loose; it was lustrous - that rare blue-black colour, and it cascaded down her back in soft waves. Cindy had advised against the little black dress in favour of something more frivolous, but Rose had got her own way. It was an old favourite and she felt comfortable and confident wearing it. It was simple yet elegant as well as sexy with three-quarter length sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. Her new underwear gave her a fantastic cleavage, and the fitted dress just reached her knees.
Black is a sombre colour but Rose knew just how to lift it, with a pair of stiletto heeled shoes in cherry red. She was relieved she wouldn't have far to walk in her killer heels, but conceded any discomfort would be worth it, as they looked fabulous and gave her legs like a gazelle. Over the dress went a red bolero jacket, and Cindy scoured the shops to purchase lipstick and nail polish of the exact same shade.
She usually didn't bother with much make up, so kept it reasonably light, with the addition of an application of smoky eye shadow and black mascara. Her eyes were an unusual and glorious green, their colour and shape accentuated by the eye make-up. As she stared at herself, she slipped on a pair of gold earrings and a matching bracelet. And that was it. Done. She felt good. She looked stunning.
Hank thought so too. He simply stared at the vision walking towards him. She certainly turned a few heads as she walked into the restaurant, and he was both proud and delighted to be her date for the evening.
"You look like a million dollars," he said, leaning to kiss her lightly on the cheek.
"Thank you. The old faithful little black dress keeps on coming in handy," she smiled, taking the proffered seat.
"It's a classic, and you are beautiful. I mean REALLY beautiful." He looked at her intently. She seemed calm and serene, not shallow and empty headed like some of the women he knew. "What can I get you to drink?"
"Red wine, please. Chianti."
"You have good taste." He ordered a bottle for them, and they studied the menu. "I've eaten here twice already this week," he told her. "The food is great."
"Yes, so I've heard. I love Italian food."
"Me too," he said, biting into a piece of crisp and pungent garlic bread. "Mmmn, this is good. At least we're both eating this stuff. I'd hate to be anti-social on my own, stinking of garlic."
"No worries," she grinned, and nibbled a large piece herself.
"So, Rose - how long have you lived here in Lincoln?"
"Not long at all. Just under three months. I managed to rent the most marvellous little cottage. It's on the outskirts, and it's actually a converted farm building called The Stable. I was told that at one time it housed the milkman's horse!"
"No way!" he laughed.
"It's built of local limestone with a pantile roof, and it's really old and charming. I have really great views over open fields, and I also have LOTS of peace and quiet so I can concentrate on my work."
"Your work? You don't just work in the café then?"
"No. I mean yes ..."
Hank raised an eyebrow. "Go on." He wanted to know all there was to know about this gorgeous creature.
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