Midnight Run (3 page)

Flustered, she reached for the cups stacked
neatly beside the register, but Laurel beat her to it. Filling the
Styrofoam quickly, she reached over Nora to hand it to the Texan.
“On the house, handsome,” she said, dropping her voice and giving
him a slow, sultry smile. Nora bit her lip; she could barely form
complete sentences around the guy, but Laurel was acting like
they’d hooked up.
Why can’t I be that confident?
Disheartened, she started to move away from the register, but the
Texan’s voice stopped her.

“Thanks, hon. I hope I’ll see you again
soon.”

Nora looked up, but he’d already turned away,
and any hope that he’d been talking to her was shattered when
Laurel said, “Oh, you can count on it.”

Desperate to find something to distract her,
Nora hurried into the back to restock the pastry case, but her mind
spun in circles. Why couldn’t she flirt as effortlessly as Laurel?
True, she’d gone on a few dates since moving to the city, but they
never ended well; she never felt like she could open up to any of
the men she’d dated, and after a few failed attempts to invite her
back to their apartments, they usually lost interest and drifted
away. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested, exactly, but maybe part
of her was still looking for that illusive fairy tale spark that
she’d grown up longing for.
And there’s no reason to think a
random Texan will do it for you, either
, she chastised herself.
It was ridiculous for her to be getting moony-eyed over a complete
stranger.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she
almost dropped the tray of muffins and croissants she was
holding.

Todd frowned at her. “Why are you so jumpy
this morning?”

She shrugged, trying to slow her heart. “Just
tired, I guess.”

“Well, that’s no good.” He looked up at the
front counter. “Can you stop what you’re doing for a minute? I’d
like to talk to you.”

Obediently, Nora set the tray down on the
counter and followed Todd to his broom closet office, where he
perched on the edge of his desk and gestured to a rickety wooden
chair. Nora sat down gingerly. “What did you need?”

“You,” the old man said bluntly. “I’m hiring
a new assistant manager.”

She couldn’t have heard him right. “I didn’t
realize Shari was gone.”

Todd shook his head without answering.
“You’re a good employee, Nora, and you’ve been here longer than
almost anybody else. The position is yours for the taking, if you
want it.”

Nora stared at him, openmouthed.
“Seriously?”

“Yup. You could start training as early as
Monday. It’s a five percent raise on your current hourly, plus a
crummy little 401K package.” Todd smiled at her, his silver
mustache turning up comically. “What do you say?”

Although she was jumping for joy, Nora didn’t
want to make a rash decision. “What would the hours look like?”

Todd rubbed the back of his neck. “I sort of
wish you hadn’t asked. You’ll have split shifts to start, opening
and closing the store five days a week.” He looked down at his desk
and carefully shuffled a stack of papers, not making eye contact
with Nora.

She deflated. “But what about my
running?”

“I know, I know, but just think; a real
income, kiddo. This kind of job doesn’t come along that often,
especially not in the coffee industry.”

He’s right.
Still, Nora hesitated.
“Can I have a day or two to think it over?”

Todd nodded. “Of course. Take your time, but
if you could give me a decision before the weekend; if you don’t
want it, I’ll need to pull the old applications file and see if
anyone is still interested.”

“What about Laurel or Caity?” The words
slipped out before she could think, and Nora cringed. Did she
really want Todd to offer the job to either of them?
I’m
practically throwing myself under a bus! They already have it out
for me; how much worse would it be if either of them was a
manager?

Todd shook his head immediately. “Not as good
with the customers as you are, kiddo, not to mention the rest of
the staff. It takes a certain kind of person to be a good manager.
You have to make nice with the customers while still turning a
profit, and you have to be friendly with your staff without letting
them think you’re buddies. It’s a fine line to walk, and I think
you’d be a natural.”

Glowing from his praise, Nora smiled, even
though she still wasn’t sure she wanted to take the job. “I’ll let
you know as soon as I’ve decided.”

Todd nodded. “Do that. But remember, Nora
this isn’t the kind of offer that comes around every day.” He
smiled at her. “I hope you’ll decide to take it.”

She nodded as she headed back to work. “I’ll
think about it,” she promised.

Kingston wanted to linger
at the coffee shop and watch the cute girl behind the counter, but
he didn’t think he could be away from the office for very long.
At least this time no one asked me to bring coffee back for
them.
He didn’t mind being polite and looking out for his
coworkers, but it wasn’t hard to see that the coffee requests
during his first few days on the job had been a subtle power play
from the other men in the office; Kingston sensed that they were
quietly putting him in his place, letting him know that, even if
he’d been a mover and a shaker at the branch back home, here in the
city he was still the new kid, no better than an intern in their
eyes.

Despite the office politics waiting for him
as he hurried back to the skyscraper with blue reflective windows,
he couldn’t keep his thoughts away from the girl. She’d charmed him
to pieces the first time they’d met with her big brown eyes and
sweet smile, and he’d been more than a little annoyed that Carrie
had shown up when she did.

He pushed through the chrome and glass
revolving door and strode across the lobby to the elevator. When
he’d first transferred, he’d planned on taking the stairs every day
as part of his half marathon training, but thirteen flights got old
real fast.
Still, I should add stairs to my regimen; maybe I
should ask the group for suggestions?
He’d finally joined a
midnight runner’s group, and it hadn’t taken long before he felt
right at home with the other runners.

The elevator doors opened, and Kingston tried
to slip by Carrie’s desk without drawing her attention, but her
familiar voice stopped him. “Hey, sweetie. Did you bring me any
coffee?”

He paused, a polite smile on his face.
“Sorry, Carrie, I was in a rush.”

She pouted at him from behind the reception
desk. “Aw, no worries, I guess.”

Kingston sighed. “Next time I’ll grab you a
cup,” he promised, wishing he had it in him to be anything but
polite to a woman. His mother had raised him right, but Carrie made
him wish he’d kept his kindness to himself; ever since he invited
her along for coffee that first time, she’d been pestering him each
day, and Kingston swore he could feel her eyes on him while he
worked. He hadn’t wanted to peer over his cubicle to see if that
was true or not, but he never seemed to make it past the reception
desk without getting caught in a pointless conversation.

Carrie stood up and leaned toward him, and
Kingston’s eyes dipped to her neckline for a moment before he
caught himself. She smiled at him knowingly. “Why don’t we skip the
coffee and get a drink tonight, huh?”

God, he hated pushy women. “No, thanks,” he
said, trying to keep his smile from slipping. “I’ve got a late
night training session, so I’ll need to catch a few hours of sleep
right after work.”

Her smile slipped. “Late night training
session?”

He nodded. “I’m planning to run the half this
spring.”

Her brow furrowed for a moment, but then
Carrie laughed. “Oh, Kingston. You’re just too sweet for words; did
anybody ever tell you that?”

Not sure why she was laughing or how to
respond, Kingston just tipped his head toward her and retreated to
his cubicle. The sound of Carrie’s giggles followed him, and he
shook his head in confusion.

Taking a swallow of his now-cold coffee, his
thoughts drifted back to the pretty girl at the café, and he
wondered if it would be too obvious if he suddenly started going
there every day on his breaks.

“Knock, knock,” his boss wrapped his knuckles
on the top of the cubicle, and Kingston jumped, spilling coffee
down the front of his shirt.

He bit back a curse, digging through his desk
drawer in search of napkins while his boss watched. Making a couple
of futile dabs at his chest, he grinned ruefully up at his boss.
“What did you need, Mr. Fitz?”

The older man leaned casually against the
flimsy wall. “I just wanted to see how you’re settling in,
Price”

He sort of hated that his boss insisted on
referring to everyone by their last name, no “Mr.” or “Ms.” in
front of it, but he tried not to let the rudeness get to him. Just
because the other man wasn’t as polite as he’d have liked didn’t
mean Kingston had to answer him in kind. “Fine,” Kingston said.
“The office may be bigger, but the work is similar to what I was
used to back home.” He grinned. “Only there’s more of it.”

Fitz quirked an eyebrow. “How long are you
planning on being in this position?”

“As long as it’s a good fit, I guess,”
Kingston said slowly. “But I don’t have any plans to leave.”

“Then a word of advice, son. You might want
to stop referring to Texas as ‘home’.”

Kingston dipped his head in acknowledgement,
trying not to look embarrassed. “You know how it is, sir,” he said.
“New York takes some getting used to, but I’m very happy here.”

Fitz nodded without answering, and he moved
away, leaving Kingston alone with his work. He glanced over his
shoulder once, wondering if he’d given his boss the answers the man
was looking for, and then he shook his head.
No use worrying.
I’ve just got to make sure I do my job, and do a damn good job at
it, too.
Things had been much more laid back in his old office,
and Kingston hadn’t quite adjusted to the feeling that everyone he
worked with in New York was sizing him up, waiting to see if he’d
sink or float.

Throwing the empty coffee cup in the trash,
Kingston’s thoughts returned to the pretty barista with a smile.
Pretty barista…PB.
He chuckled at the nickname. “We’ll go
together like peanut butter and jelly,” he joked to himself as he
thought about her.
And maybe
, he thought, turning back to
his computer and starting to tackle his inbox,
I’ll have the
guts to ask her name the next time I see her.

Carl was sprawled out on
the couch when Nora got home, watching a reality show about robots,
but he grinned as soon as he saw her.

“Lady, you owe me a date.” He ran his hands
carefully through his blue-tipped hair. “Let’s go out!”

Nora shook her head. “I’ve got to get up
early to run.” She paused, considering. “I better enjoy it while I
still can.”

Her roommate sighed heavily. “Takeout again,”
he said, pulling out his phone and hitting speed dial. While he was
on hold, he glanced at Nora. “What do you mean, while you still
can?”

She told him about the job offer while he
ordered. “I’m seriously thinking about it. I mean, a raise and a
401k? That’s, like, a real job.”

Carl nodded thoughtfully. “I’d go for
it.”

“But what about running? I was just thinking
today that I might want to start training for the Half this
spring.”

“Why not run at night?”

She glared at him. “In Central Park? I’m not
that stupid.”

Carl rolled his eyes. “I’m sure there’s a
midnight runners’ club around; why don’t you look online?”

“I’ve never heard of anything like that,” she
said slowly. “Do people seriously run at night?”

“All the time. And hey, this is the city that
never sleeps, right?” He joked.

Nora rolled her eyes. “How do you even know
about something like this?”

Carl’s smile slipped, and he started to
fiddle with the gauge in his left ear. “Reggie was into
running.”

They hadn’t really talked about Carl’s
breakup since he moved in, and Nora mentally kicked herself. “Oh.”
She’d known Carl and Reggie were serious enough to move in together
in Philly, which is why their breakup combined with Carl’s desire
to get away had given Nora a new roommate, but Carl hadn’t wanted
to touch the subject the few times she’d asked, and after a couple
of months, Nora had let it drop. At a loss, she gave him a quick
hug, but he swatted her arms away and popped off the sofa.

“No sympathy, girl. I’m fine. But I bet
you’ll be able to have your cake and run it off too if you find a
running group.”

Nora considered it. “Maybe. I’ve never really
trained with a group before; part of why I like running is being
alone.”

Carl shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, but group
sports always seemed like more fun to me, anyway. All those sweaty
bodies getting physical together! And,” he added slyly, “maybe
you’ll bring home a fine running buddy for me.” He reached for her
hand and gave her a clumsy twirl.

She laughed. “I’ll do my best, but if they
seriously run at midnight, I might be too tired to remember!”

Carl winked. “I’ll leave you a note to remind
you.

***

Carl’s right
, Nora thought as she skimmed the
Meetup group for the New York Midnight Run. The group met every
day, rain or shine, in Central Park. There were tons of smaller
sub-groups, too; people training for a five k, a ten k, and even
the upcoming half marathon.
Bingo
. Nora clicked on the group
training for the half, and before she could talk herself out of it,
sent in a request to join. The site asked for a user picture, and
Nora uploaded a photo she’d snapped of her running shoes right
after she bought the newest pair. She’d sprung for quality that
time, and although it might have been silly, she couldn’t resist
the urge to take a picture of the neon stripes and tight laces.