Chapter nine

I wanted to get an update in before I leave for Maine on Wednesday. I can't make any promises, but I'll try to update it again before that. I'm going to be gone for a week and a half, so I apologize now for the lack of updates to come. Enjoy!



I was sitting outside the locker room after Sidney’s practice, still wondering if Emma was actually not okay with me and Sidney, or if she was just being dramatic, when a guy, on the short side, walked out of the door with what looked like skater shoes on. Really? A hockey player wearing skate shoes? I hadn’t worn those since 6th grade. He stopped to inspect me for a second before speaking.

“You must be Avery,” he said holding out his hand to me. I shook it warily as he sat down next to me. “I’m Tyler. Tyler Kennedy.”

“You know me?”

“Well, no,” he admitted. “But Tanger’s been going on about how Sid’s got a girl,” he said with a smile. “I figured I had to see this one for myself.” I gave him a look and he stuttered a little. “No! I mean, I wasn’t looking for you. I found you. And introduced myself, and now I’m sitting here…” he trailed off and turned the slightest shade of pink.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Tyler,” I said with a smile. A smile. I actually smiled around someone who wasn’t Sidney or Emma. A miracle. His honest innocence made me grin.

“Nice to meet you too Avery,” he said standing up from my bench. “If things don’t work out with Sid, call me,” he said with a somewhat serious smile. I laughed at his lame joke, not out of pity, but because I actually thought it was funny; he’s funny. “I’ll see you around I’m sure.” And with that, he walked down the hallway, outside and probably to his car.

Not five minutes later, Sidney walked out of the locker room, hair gelled down to the point where I thought it might get pulled out at the roots, and smiled at me. I got up off of my bench, which was beginning to hurt my back, and made my way over to him. The closer I got, the more I could smell the scent of shampoo and cologne lingering on his skin. God help me in my time of weakness. I mean, what is this feeling? Desire? I’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing it.

“Ready?” he asked, placing a hand on the small of my back, my shell melting away.

“Yupp,” I said happily. “I met Tyler,” I stated as we walked to his car.

“Oh, TK?” Sidney asked, unlocking the doors. “He’s hilarious.”

“Seems like it,” I said, pondering my next words. “Was everyone talking about me?” I asked before I could think better of it.

“Sort of,” he said, starting the engine. “It’s big news when I bring a girl to practice.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, but I could already feel the answer.

“I don’t do it often,” he stated, looking over at me. I felt my heart pump faster in my chest, all from his gaze. “You’re different Avery. You’re not one of those girls that stalk my every move. You don’t care that I’m Sidney Crosby. You care that I’m me, and that I have an ugly house, which you, by the way, have got to fix,” he said with a smile. He took my hand I his and I laced my fingers through the spaces between his fingers, right where mine fit perfectly. “Let’s go somewhere,” he said suddenly, turning out onto the road.

“I can’t. I’m meeting Emma at Starbucks at 3,” I stated, almost sad that I was going to hang out with my best friend. Okay, now you can say I’m a bad person.

“What if a business emergency came up?” he asked me with a mischievous smile.

“Well, then I guess I’d have to reschedule my coffee.” Yes, now I’m a bad person.
-
We ended up at LazeRush after I called Emma and told her Mrs. Lamar needed work done on her bathroom and that I had to reschedule our coffee. Needless to say, she was not happy. After a few bad words and some more bipolar behavior, I was off the hook.

“Mission accomplished,” I said to Sidney as we walked into the little building that housed one of the best laser tag places around according to the sign outside.

“Good. Now get ready to be demolished,” he said with a slight growl.

“Oh, competitive much?” I asked with a hint of playfulness.

“I’m just warning you,” he stated, paying for our games and gearing up. Everything smelled of Febreeze and sweat. Lovely.

“I’ve never done this before,” I managed, wrestling with an armband that I was apparently putting on wrong.

“I’ll take it easy on you,” he said, turning the band around and sliding it onto my arm with ease. “I’m pretty much a pro.” Before I knew it, we were walking back into a big dark room with obstacles set up and Sidney was racing off in another direction. All while I comprehended this, I was shot 7 times; 2 in the chest, 3 in the arm and 2 in the leg. I wasn’t even sure where I was, let alone how to work this gun thing they gave me.

I ran behind a big fake boulder, trying to take refuge, and just as I was beginning to acclimate, someone rolled, yes rolled, into my legs. I looked down to see Sidney crawling on the ground.

“What are you doing?” I hissed at him.

“Avery, if you want to succeed, you have to play the game,” he hissed back, peering around the boulder.

“And playing the game involves rolling on a sticky dirty floor? No thank you.”

“Stop it. Stop being so serious. Get on the floor. Do it,” he said to me. I just stared at him like he was crazy. “OH GOD AVERY! DUCK!”

He scared me so much I actually got on the floor. I was convinced I’d have herpes by the time I was done in there. I didn’t know how often they cleaned those floors. They could have never cleaned them for all I knew.

“Now what?” I asked, crouched on the floor beside him.

“Just shoot at things that move,” he answered, firing his gun at someone.

“Okay…” I shot at something that was moving and heard a faint click. “Did I get him?” I asked, excited. I was excited about shooting someone in laser tag. What was my life becoming?

“Yupp, now follow me,” he said, rolling James Bond style across the floor to where he was behind another boulder.

I tried to imitate the move, but failed miserably. Very miserably. Instead of rolling behind the boulder, I rolled into it, putting a hole in it and getting shot 6 more times. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just laid there, staring at the ceiling as people kept shooting me. I felt this odd urge in the pit of my stomach, working its way up my throat and into my mouth. Before I knew it I was laughing. I was laughing at myself for how clumsy I am. I was laughing at Sidney because he was rolling around on the floor like a 6 year old, and I was laughing because I hadn’t laughed so hard in so long.

“Avery! Are you okay?” Sidney asked, concerned. He was crouched on the floor next to me, and once he realized I was laughing, not crying, he began to laugh too. “How’d you even do that?” he managed between laughing fits.

I just shook my head, unable to answer. The laughter just kept coming. There I was, on the gross disgusting floor of LazeRush, with none other than Sidney Crosby, laughing my ass off because I ran into a boulder. Yes, this was better than coffee.

Chapter eight

My lips were still tingling the next day when I woke up. That was probably one of the most magical kisses I had ever experienced in my life. I want to relive that night over and over again. I knew I had to tell Emma eventually, but a part of me wanted to keep everything that happened all to myself. I shared practically everything with that girl. Is it a crime to want to be selfish every once in a while? No.
I dragged myself out of bed and into the kitchen where I started coffee. It wasn’t until I was halfway through the crossword that I remembered I was going to Sidney’s practice today. What time was that again? I couldn’t remember anything, which was very unlike me. I got up and trudged back to my bedroom and picked up my phone. 2 missed calls. One from Emma and one from Sidney. I figured I’d call Sidney now and then Emma later, at his practice, so when she asked me if I wanted to do anything, I could say no. Call me a bad person for avoiding my best friend, but I didn’t want her in my business just yet.

“Hello?” Sidney answered after a few rings.

“Hey,” I said, twirling my hair around a finger, something I hadn’t done in a long time. Every time I talked to him, I could just feel my stiff shell fall away.

“Hey,” he said back. I could almost hear his smile.

“What’d you need?” I asked, flopping myself down on my bed.

“Just to tell you I’m coming to get you at 10 to go to practice,” he said with a slight laugh.

“Okay,” I said softly, smiling to myself. “I’ll see you then.” I flipped my phone shut and realized I was still smiling. The effects this boy had on me.
-
Once again, he was right on time and I was still rushing around putting articles of clothing on, but this time he came all the way in and sat on my couch to wait instead of standing awkwardly in the hall.

“We need to work on your time management skills,” he said with a laugh as we walked out to his car.

“I know it’s terrible,” I replied, getting in his car and shutting the door. “I’m terrible.”

“You’re not terrible, just your internal clock,” he said with a laugh as he pulled away from my building and started towards the arena.

We arrived at the arena around 10:15, only about five minutes after when we left. I never realized how close it was. I guess I just never paid attention.

“I’d start mentally preparing yourself if I were you,” he told me as we walked into the arena, his hand on the small of my back, causing electricity to jump up and down my spine.

“Why’s that?”

“I’m going to introduce you to everyone. Just prepare yourself,” he said with a smile that made me want to melt into a puddle on the ground.

“Okay,” I answered a little timidly. He lead me down hallway after hallway and soon enough I was lost, and we were at the locker room entrance. “Can I go in there?” I asked, slightly scared, for what, I’m not sure.

“Yeah. No one should be changing right now,” he said, but as he opened the door he peeked around the corner, making sure his statement was correct. I had to smile at his attempts to impress me. And for the most part, they worked. He lead me through the door into a room that reeked of sweat and blood. The first thing I saw was the bare torso of one of his teammates. Emma would be in heaven right now, which made me feel slightly guilty that I haven’t called her, but that thought was moved to the back of my head as soon as this guy spoke.

“Yo, Sid, who’s the chick?” mystery man asked with a thick French accent.

“This is Avery,” he said to his teammate. “Avery, this is Kris Letang.”

“Hi Kris,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand. I could feel my shell slowly creeping back up.

“How’d you get this girl to be seen in public with you man? Did you pay her?” he asked with a grin as he shook my hand. I couldn’t help but noticing how good looking he was.

“Good one. When was the last time you had a girl?” Sidney shot back.

“Dude, not funny. Let’s see if you get any help today in practice.”

“Whatever,” Sidney said as he lead me down another hallway to the stalls. “This, is my stall,” he said with a grand gesture at a plaque that had his name on it. Beneath it hung all his equipment including his jersey.

“Very nice,” I said, running my hand over the wood.

“I chose this wood too,” he said behind me.

I turned around to face him, a smile dancing on my lips. “Oh really, Mr. Big shot? Just like your house?”

“Just like my house,” he said, taking a step to close the gap between us. I wanted to say something witty about the type of wood it was or something like that, but then I realized that would only make me sound like a dumbass, so I let him kiss me instead. Our lips were dancing across each other until he slowly pulled back. “I’ve been wanting to do that again ever since last night,” he said his right hand on the small of my back, pulling me towards him.

“Me too,” I said, slightly breathless.

“Now, I have practice. Why don’t you sit in the stands and watch? I’ll meet you afterwards and you can meet some of the other guys,” he said with a grin.

“Alright,” I said, stiffness creeping back into my voice.

“Go through those doors and you’ll be in the arena,” he said, and thought about it for a second. “Well, the ice area. Whatever you want to call it. You’ll be in the stands. There.” I nodded, giggling at his search for the right word. I went where he directed me and found a nice seat with a good view of all the ice.

I thought about everything that happened for a moment, and decided that that was one of the most electric kisses I had ever experienced in my life. Damn him. I never feel like this. I never LET a guy make me feel like this. I also decided it was time to call Emma, and let her in on what has been happening with me and Sidney. I knew she wouldn’t be happy.

“YOU WHAT!?” she screamed at me after I told her about my date. “You fucking kissed Sidney Crosby!?” Once again, spaz.

“Yeah Em. On the incline,” I said slowly, trying to get her to calm down. Just like how she never applies common sense, she never curses. This was bad.

“You think that’s okay!? Kissing a hockey player!?” she yelled into the phone.

“Em, it was just a kiss. It’s not like I slept with the guy,” I said, slightly exasperated.

“It’s not okay!” she said, sounding defeated. “You’re going to leave me high and dry for your new and better boyfriend.”

“No I won’t Em,” I stated. “And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“You kissed him,” she snapped at me. Hypocrite much? How many guys has she kissed, even slept with, and then never bothered to call, or return their calls. More than I can name. The most memorable was Scott Clearwater, a football player for Pitt. A good-looking football player for Pitt. Emma met him at Diesel when she was wasted; surprise surprise. She literally spent the whole night with him. The next day she came to my place a hung-over mess, claiming she now hated him and he was stalking her. Turns out he was stalking her via text message and Facebook. Creeper.

“That means nothing,” I said, suddenly getting angry. “You should know all about that Em. Making out with people and never answering their calls. At least I’m still on speaking terms with Sidney.” There was a pause as she thought about what I said.

“I’m sorry Aves,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t have overreacted. I guess I’m just so used to having you around all the time.” I heard a sniffle. Oh dear God, now she’s crying. Way to go Avery. Despite the fact that I know she’s just going for the sympathy card, I can’t help but feel bad.

“Don’t-don’t cry,” I said, feeling my face screw up in an attempt to find the right words. “I didn’t mean it!” I said quickly.

“YOU DID!” she wailed in my ear.

“No, no no,” I practically yelled. “How about Starbucks? I’ll meet you for Starbucks in a few hours!” I said frantically, trying to get her calm. I feel like I’m dealing with a 6 year old more than often. I heard a sniffle.

“Okay. Come get me at 3:00,” she said cheerily. “Bye Aves!”

“Bye, Em,” I said slowly, wondering what exactly just happened. Typical Emma. Sometimes I really think she’s bipolar.

Chapter seven

This one's long-ish to make up for the lack of postage the past few days. I had a basketball camp! :) Enjoy!


True to his words, Sidney showed up at 7 o’clock exactly, at my apartment building. I buzzed him up and he stood in my foyer while I put my dress on and finished my makeup. I’m always late. No surprise there. I walked back out to where he was standing when I had my dress on, and his eyes nearly popped out of their head.

“You look great,” he said, a little breathlessly, before embracing me in a warm hug. I have to admit, I thought I looked good. I had on a form-fitting navy blue, knee length dress, cream peep-toe shoes and a grey plaid blazer to keep warm. With the 3 inch heels, I was just barely his height. He didn’t look too bad himself, the hair even looked decent. “I like this dress… if you can call it a dress,” he said with a half grin as he pulled me out the door. “I’d call it an invitation.”

“Shut up!” I yelled, smacking him across the arm. “I happen to like this dress, thank you very much.”

“I never said I didn’t like it,” he said, pulling me closer to the point where the whole side of my body was pressed against his. I could smell his cologne and almost feel the blood rushing through his body. I’m sure he heard my heartbeat. How could he not? I felt like my heart would come crashing out of my chest at any second. His hand was resting on my hip and I thought it would burn through my dress, and then my flesh. “I think it’s very…nice,” he said eyeing me.

I gave him a look as the elevator doors opened and we got in. “I also like your apartment by the way,” he said, finally stepping away from me. I felt like I could breathe again without him right there. “It feels like you’re at a beach,” he said with a little half-grin that made me smile.

“I’m from California, so when we moved here, I was really depressed. I went out and made it as like California as possible,” I said, fiddling with the clasp on my little clutch I grabbed on the way out the door. For some reason, talking about California unnerved me. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because that’s where my life is.

“You succeeded.” I looked up at him and smiled. His eyes were dancing as the elevator doors opened and we walked out to his car which was, in one word, amazing. It definitely trumped my little Kia. He had a big silver Range Rover with every possible add-on; seat warmers, moon roof, mp3 hookup, everything.

“I like your… car,” I said, and then remembered his little one-liner back in my apartment. “If you can call it a car,” I said with a smirk. I felt myself relaxing around him. I was able to be myself. Emma was the only other person I felt comfortable around and only because she herself was crazy, so I could kind of hide in her shadow. Even when people complimented me on my career, the one thing I was comfortable with, I felt myself blushing and folding inward.

“It is a bit much, eh?” he asked me with that adorable accent I just realized I loved.

“A bit,” I replied, gazing at everything in his car.

The rest of the car ride, which wasn’t long, was silent until we pulled up to a lavish looking restaurant not far from my apartment. It was called Pod. Whatever that means.

“What is this place?” I asked getting out of his “car” and walking with him to the front door.

“It’s a tapas restaurant,” he replied, wrapping his arm around my waist for the second time tonight. Any other guy would have been punched in the face, but for some reason, I let him touch me. When I looked at him with a confused stare he elaborated. “You know, where you order a ton of different things and then share them? Tapas,” he finished with an elaborate hand gesture, almost hitting the person standing behind us. They glared until they realized who he was. Then it turned to a stare. More stares and glares. Joy. Even the waitress who seated us was staring. A part of me wanted to slap her across the face, and another part of me told me to just sit down. As soon as we were seated, the questioning began.

“So,” Sidney began, getting settled in his seat. “What brought you to Pittsburgh?” California again. That topic everyone always seemed so interested in.

“My dad got a job out here when I was going into my senior year of high school. I was devastated. My friends were, and still are, out there. I had no one when I moved here, so I pretty much dedicated myself to going to a good school. I had no friends. I just studied.” When I finished my speech, I looked up to see him smiling. “It’s not funny!” I said defensively.

“It’s not. I just think it’s funny you take yourself so seriously,” he said with a shrug.

“What makes you think I take myself too seriously?”

“That tone,” he said with a smirk. “Always talking about paint colors, which, I might add, you’re doing very well with keeping to a minimum tonight.”

I just blushed. He had the strangest effects on me. Maybe Emma was right. Maybe I am smitten. “Well, tell me about your childhood,” I said, leaning forward on the table towards him. He imitated the movement and in seconds his face was 6 inches from mine.

“I grew up in Nova Scotia. Cole Harbor to be exact. I’ve literally been playing hockey my whole life.” He paused to think. “Can you believe I actually get paid to do something I love? Not everyone gets that.” A thoughtful silence fell as I thought about what he said. Yeah, I liked to paint and create things for people, but did I love it? No, I didn’t. It was a living. It’s my way to pay the bills and keep the phone on, and really, I was just realizing it. I had also just realized how modern this place was.

When you walked in, you went down a few steps, which put everything underground for the most part. There were windows high on the walls, near the ceiling where you could see people’s feet passing by. A little conveyor belt brought sushi around a bar, and everything was in the shape of a cube. Rad. Sidney brought me out of my trance.

“Come to practice with me tomorrow,” he said abruptly, putting his menu down and looking at me with those piercing hazel eyes.

“Can I do that?” I asked, surprised.

“If you’re with me, we can do anything,” he said with a grin. Cute, a double meaning.

“Alright,” I said, feeling a smile creep across my lips as I brought my eyes back down to the menu that was previously holding my attention.

The waitress came and took our orders: chicken and seafood spring rolls for me, and teriyaki salmon for him. 20 minutes of sharing our pasts later, and our food was there. It smelled delicious. We split both of them, him eating my spring rolls and I eating his salmon. Soon enough, we were done, he was paying the bill, and we were getting up to leave. We walked outside, and just as I was heading to his car, he grabbed my hand and pulled me in the opposite direction, towards him. I wobbled a bit on my heels, but managed to stay upright.

“Are we going to your car?” I asked, a bit bewildered by my sudden change in direction.

“Let’s walk,” he said, putting his arm around my shoulders and steering me down the street.

“Where are we going?” I asked a bit breathlessly. He walked much faster than me, and in heels, I was going even slower.

“You’ll see,” he said, as we crossed a street and came to the bottom of one of the many mountains. He guided me into a run down old building where he purchased two tickets to something. A little car came down the mountain and to a stop a few feet in from of us.

“You want me to get in that?” I asked, a little scared. I’ve never been one with heights. We just don’t mix. It usually makes for me throwing up and then no one wins.

“Yeah, it’s safe,” he said, stepping inside, holding out his hand to me. The little man running the car looked annoyed, so I stepped through the doorway and sat down next to Sidney on the little bench. A little ways up the mountain, Sidney spoke. “Now stand up and look out there,” he said, motioning behind us. I shook my head no. This car did not feel stable. “Stand up,” he said, standing himself and taking my arm in his. I gave in to his touch and stood, keeping a low center of gravity in case the unthinkable happened. I turned around in an awkward little circle and looked where he was pointing.

Seeing what he wanted me to see made me forget about my squat, or the fact that I was terrified. I drew in a sharp breath, stood up fully and held onto the railing in front of me, getting as close to the glass as possible. I never thought Pittsburgh was beautiful until that moment. The whole city lit up, everything glowing, it was amazing.

“This is beautiful,” I said breathlessly.

“That’s not the only thing,” he said in my ear. I could feel his lips brush against my ear, provoking me to turn into him. I gave in. His lips were on mine as the skyline passed by outside our old little car.

Chapter six

My alarm the next day seemed like an atomic bomb going off on my head. With every beep of my alarm, my head throbbed with pain equivalent to that of ripping a ligament or breaking a bone. It didn’t help that my phone was beeping and vibrating incessantly on my side table. Just as I went to grab it, it fell off the table and onto the ground. I groaned inwardly and rolled out of bed and onto the floor where I laid, as I answered my phone with a slight moan.

“Hello?” I grumbled into the receiver. I hadn’t bothered, more like remembered, to look at the caller I.D.

“Hey,” I heard Sidney say. “Did I wake you up?”

“No, no,” I said, sitting up too quickly which caused my head to spin. “What’d you need?” I asked.

“Well, I painted all the colors where you said, and I’ve got to say, I really like all of them. I just can’t decide on what to paint the family room…” he trailed off. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t think of anything to say to that. I couldn’t even see straight, so how was I going to deal with a client? “Maybe pink?” he tried, making me laugh.

“You want pink in your family room?” I asked playfully. “I think I could arrange that.” I finally picked myself up off the floor and made it to the door, but I had to stop and lean against it for support.

“Are you okay?” he suddenly asked. I guess my lack of suggestions and design ideas was a dead giveaway. I usually only talked about that.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, making my way out to my kitchen table. “Well, no. Emma convinced me that I needed to go to Diesel last night. I had too much to drink. I’m pulling out the aspirin right now.”

“Do you want to go get a coffee?” he asked as I was about to start the pot. Was he asking me out? Whatever, I’m sure Starbucks would be better than anything I make.

“Sure. I’ll meet you at Starbucks in thirty minutes,” I stated, dumping the water out of the pot. I was about to say I’d bring some more color choices, but he cut me off.

“We’re not going to Starbucks. Come by my house and we’ll go from there,” he said, somewhat mysteriously.

“Oh, is this a secret coffee shop?” I joked.

“Sort of,” he said with a laugh. “See you in a bit.” And with that, he hung up. I stood there and looked at my phone for a good five minutes before I actually realized what had happened. I ran back into my room, throwing a pillow at Emma, who was asleep on the couch, on the way.

“GET UP!” I shrieked at her like the world was about to end. “We’re going out!”

“Whaaa?” she managed from her spot, facedown on the couch.

“Get your ass up. We’re going out for coffee with your favorite hockey player,” I yelled back out at her from my room. I heard a thud and knew that she had fallen off the couch. Sure enough, when I peeked around the door frame, there she was, lying on the floor cursing. I pulled out a sweater and pulled a pair of jeans on. In the time it took to get myself looking decent, Emma had picked herself up off the floor. I grabbed her wrist and dragged her down to my car, telling her she needed to fix her hair and makeup along the way.
-
We made it to Sidney’s house a little over thirty minutes later. Emma still looked like a mess when we pulled up to his house. Once she realized we were there, she couldn’t stop looking. I seriously thought a waterfall of drool would start pouring out of her mouth any second.

“Come on, let’s go,” I said, getting out of the car and making my way up the front path, making sure to avoid the boulder. Emma didn’t. She walked right into it and proceeded to fall on the ground and scream. I was horrified. I just stood there like a statue, and I’m pretty sure that if his neighbors looked out their windows right at that second, they would have thought I shot her. That’s how big of a scene she was making. I turned on my heel and walked up his front steps and rang the bell.

“Hey,” he said when he opened the door. His face went from a smile to a frown in mere seconds when he noticed Emma on his lawn. “Who is that?” he asked me. I wanted to crawl under a rock from embarrassment. I should have just dropped her off back at her house. I shouldn’t have brought her.

“That, is my friend Emma. She was out drinking with me last night and I figured she could use the coffee,” I said before looking up at him. “Or, we could drop her off at home,” I added upon seeing his facial expression. “I’d just figured…” I trailed off. “She really likes you, as like, a hockey player?” I offered.

“We’ll drop her off,” he said. “I was hoping to go out with just you. I have to talk to you about some… colors,” he finished. I just shrugged and went to pick up Emma.

“Hey Em, I’m going to drop you off at your house on the way to the coffee shop,” I said as gently as possible. She just sort of looked at me with a confused look on her face.

“But Sidney Crosby?” she asked like a little kid who was told they couldn’t have desert. At that moment, Sidney came walking down the steps towards us. Emma was standing now and was gaping at him.

“Hi,” he said as nicely as possible. I know how hard it is to be nice to Emma sometimes, but so far he was doing a good job. “Avery’s told me you’re a fan?” Emma just nodded, speechless. She couldn’t even ask for her autograph and picture like she wanted. “Well, it’s nice to meet you then. So what do you say we get you home?” he asked, still being polite. She just nodded again. I’m pretty sure she didn’t know what she was agreeing to, but to her, anything Sidney said was like God speaking to her.
-
We finally made it to the coffees shop, which, I have to say, was extremely secret, after dropping Emma off. It was on this little back alley and when we walked in, no one made a big deal about seeing Sidney Crosby in their presence. We just walked straight up to the counter and placed our orders. No staring, no glaring.

“So how’d you find this place?” I asked him, curious, as we sat down with our coffees.

“I’m not really sure. But my first year here I would just drive around. I had nowhere to be and I didn’t really know anyone, so I’d just drive and explore,” he said, looking me directly in the eyes. I had to look away; I could feel myself blushing, so I began to talk about the only think I really know about.

“So for your family room,” I started as I rummaged through my bag for the paint colors I had picked out.

“Avery, can you stop talking about work for five minutes? I’ve literally known you for a week and that’s all you talk about,” Sidney said, slightly annoyed. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just wanted to go out for a coffee because I just like you?” No. That had really never crossed my mind. I just sat there staring at him. I had never had someone go out of their way to be nice to me. I had Emma, and that’s all I needed. I shook my head as these thoughts went through my mind. “Well I do like you, even if all you do is work. You need to have some fun, and I know I’m not the most fun person around, but when I’m more happy-go-lucky than someone, you know there’s a problem,” he said, now with a laugh. I cracked a smile at this. “So when I ask you to go to dinner with me, like I’m about to, please don’t talk about paint colors or what wallpaper I need, or how beautiful my granite countertops are. Okay?” I was actually smiling now, almost laughing at him. He grabbed my hand, all dramatic, and said, “Avery, would you like to go to dinner with me?” I was giggling by now.

“Of course,” I said with a slight laugh. He stood up and I never would have been able to predict what he was going to do next.

“SHE SAID YES!” he yelled to the whole shop, and naturally, they all thought he was talking about getting married. Everyone was clapping and cheering and I knew I was turning a bright fuchsia. “I’ll come get you at 7 tonight,” he said to me now, finally letting go of my hand. I could feel all the places his hand had been. “No paint colors.”

Chapter five

Sidney and I ended up buying absolutely no furniture for his house. Instead, every chance he got, he jumped on a couch or a bed and made me do the same. By the end of the day, I must have jumped on more beds than I ever had when I was little. Every person in the store was glaring at us instead of staring when we left, and I had to admit, it was oddly exhilarating to jump on all those beds with a guy I hardly know.

“So, we discussed where to paint everything. Do you remember?” I asked him as we walked to our cars in the quiet dusk.

“Yellow in the family room, gray almost everywhere else and blue in the dining room,” he repeated back to me.

“Very good!” I joked, for what seemed like the first time in a long time. I was actually having fun. Emma would be proud. “You’ve passed your first test. So just call me when you’ve got all the colors up, and I’ll come and look at them. Oh, and keep looking for furniture,” I said, backing towards my car as he still stood in the middle of parking lot, watching me go. He nodded once and waved before turning around and heading towards his Range Rover. I got in my little Kia, and turned it on, then headed in the direction of Emma’s parent’s house. She’ll want to know about this whole adventure.
-
“It was actually really fun,” I concluded to Emma over Ben & Jerry’s and hot chocolate back I my apartment. She just sat there, mouth gaping, staring at me. She moved her hands in front of her face a little and rearranged herself a bit. I’m going to get it now.

“Let me get this straight,” she started, closing her eyes to think about her attack. “You went paint shopping with Sidney Crosby.” I nodded once in agreement. “You went furniture shopping with Sidney Crosby.” Nod. “You even jumped on beds with Sidney Crosby,” she said, sounding slightly annoyed, not an Emma trait. “And, and…” she trailed off and looked around to find the right words. “And you’re not totally smitten!?” she finally shrieked at me.

“Well, I don’t know,” I stated with a shrug of my shoulders. “He is really good looking, but it’s not like I’m trying to sleep with the guy,” I said, taking another spoonful of the ice cream that was resting in my lap.

“Maybe you should,” she said with a slight smile. “Aves,” she started, putting on her cutesy Emma voice.

“Yes?” I asked, looking up at her.

“When’s the last time you’ve had sex?” she asked, putting a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth.

“Uh,” I replied, stuck for words. I couldn’t remember the last time I had sex. It was probably in college. Who knows. It’s not like I missed it until she mentioned it. It was never a big deal to me. “I can’t remember…” I said, bracing myself for her reaction. Her eyes grew wide and the dropped her spoon into the bucket of ice cream.

“Avery Jones! How could you let this happen!?” she yelled, jumping off the couch to pace around the apartment. I just sat there. I have to admit, I was slightly scared. “You work too much,” she said simply, and stopped her pacing.

“Well, no I don’t,” I said defensively. She just stared at me like that was the stupidest thing I had ever said.

“When’s the last time you’ve come out with me?” she asked accusingly, staring me down with eyes similar to the devil’s. I had to look away from her piercing glare. “Ha! Exactly,” she said, plopping back down on the couch, having won this battle.

“Maybe I do work too much…” I said, trailing off, swirling my ice cream around in its container.

“Let’s go out,” Emma suddenly said, hoping up off the couch and making her way to my bedroom, and then my closet. Have I mentioned she’s spontaneous? I knew if I argued it would only hurt my case, so I grudgingly pulled myself up off the couch and followed her into my closet where she began to throw clothes at my face.
-
We ended up at Diesel about an hour later, with Emma forcing me to drink. “You need to… relax,” she spluttered, already tipsy.

“Emma, I’m fine,” I said, setting down my drink and taking in her, I mean my, ruined shirt. She already spilled a martini down the front of her, but don’t worry, a cute guy was there to help her out while I watched from the sidelines. On second thought, maybe I would need a beer to get me through the night. None of this martini crap. “One Iron City please,” I asked a passing bartender with exasperation. If I’m going to be out with my drunk friend, I might as well dull the memory. He handed me an uncapped Iron City and I downed half of it in seconds. Better.

“Look Aves! A guy! He’s holding my hand!” Emma screeched at me from across the floor. I just nodded my head. She doesn’t care what I think anyway. She’s too preoccupied with her guy who’s holding her hand, and by the looks of it, trying to get in her pants. I always feel like a babysitter when she makes me go out. Maybe I should have more fun… I drank the rest of my beer and ordered another before heading out on the dance floor. Within seconds, a decent looking guy was behind me, dancing. On most nights, I’d shove him off, but something told me not to. “Yeah Aves!” Emma screamed drunkenly as her guy tried to kiss her while mine ran his hands down my thighs.

By this point, I didn’t really care about much. The alcohol had dulled my senses and I was just going through the motions. I let this guy, whatever his name was, take me over to a couch in the corner and kiss me. He kissed me for awhile, with little participation on my end. I even let him feel me up, but as soon as his hands went to my pants, I sat up, grabbed my purse and went to go find Emma. I heard him call out after me, but I kept walking. She was in the same situation as I just was, but she was much more drunk. I grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the guy’s grasp. He glared at me as I dragged Em out of the club and to my car, but by that time I realized neither of us could drive. What a night this turned out to be. I sat down on the curb, dejected and waited for a taxi to pass.

“Avery, why’d you do that? I liked him,” Emma slurred as she sat down next to me and rested her head on my shoulder.

“You didn’t like him Em. The alcohol liked him,” I replied, only a little clearer than her confused words. “What was his name?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted slowly. “I’m sorry I made you come out. I can tell you’re mad now. I would be too.” She just had to use her sweet voice on me.

“It’s alright Em,” I said as a taxi approached. I got up and hailed it. “But from now on, I get to pick what we do.”

Chapter four

Monday was just like any other day. Make my morning coffee run, pick up Emma, go shopping at the strip for awhile, check out the guys, and most importantly, deal with clients. But this particular day, I only had one client who was waiting for me in the paint aisle at Lowe’s, looking particularly delicious, even more so than my coffee. Sidney was staring at the Valspar paints, my favorites, with a confused look on his face.

“Hey,” I said as I approached. Sidney turned to look at me, a bright yellow paint chip in his hand. He held it up for me to see.

“Lemon Curd?” he asked me. I had to think about it for a minute, but it eventually dawned on me that he was referring to the paint color. “They name paint Lemon Curd? I don’t even know what that is,” he said with exasperation.

“Okay, I need you to calm down,” I said with a playful tone to my voice. “Just don’t look at the names. Tell me which ones you like,” I finished, taking the paint out of his hand and inspecting it myself. I actually liked the color, so I shoved it in my pocket in case I ever wanted to use it.

“I like the idea you said. Yellows and grays, and maybe some blues. I’m open to blue,” he said, sounding proud of himself.

“Okay. Well, we can do a light blue, that’ll go well with the yellow. Or maybe even a bright blue,” I said, holding the paint chips up next to each other.

“I think I want my room to be gray,” he said, picking up a swatch of light gray with a hint of blue. “Whispering Winds, how nice,” he said dryly.

“See this?” I asked, pulling the paint chip out of his hands. “See how it goes so well with the blue? That’s because there’s blue in the gray.”

“I never realized there were so many shades of gray…” he said almost wistfully.

“There are,” I said, slightly annoyed. “Now, let’s get down to business, actually picking the colors.”

We ended up with some yellows, grays, blues, and even a green or two, all in those miniature sample cans. We even bought Lemon Curd, just for the thrill. I had never had this much fun picking out paint colors before in my life, even when I was little and my mom and I would go to Lowe’s and just look at the Oops Paints, buying any we thought were pretty, then going home and finding a wall that needed a new coat of paint. I miss that, now that I think of it.

“Avery?” Sidney asked me, almost halfway out the door, while I stood, thinking, one hand in my purse searching for something that had now slipped my mind.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I said, hoisting my purse over my shoulder and running to catch up with him.

“What’s next on the agenda?” he asked once we were halfway across the parking lot and I had pulled my new Kia Soul’s keys out of their hiding spot. I glanced down at my watch and decided I had time to do something else.

“Do you want to go look at furniture?” I asked, pointing over at Bassett and Thomasville, side by side, staring back at us, inviting us to look inside.

“Sure,” he said with one of those heart-melting smiles. “Let me just put this in my car,” he said, referring to our many paint colors.

“Okay,” I said, mostly to myself. I stood there, watching him walk to his car, thinking about what I was doing. This? This feeling doesn’t happen to me. Guys don’t do this to me. A cute guy smiles at me and I glare at them. Why am I letting this happen? Something, maybe a voice in my head, was telling me that this, this thing, is good for me, so no matter how much I try, I can’t push this guy away.

We walked into the store, and we might as well been holding hands. So many people suddenly forgot their manners, if they ever had any, and were staring at us. “Does this always happen to you?” I hissed as an old lady looked at us with one of the creepiest expressions I had ever seen in my life.

“It happens a lot,” Sidney said with a snigger.

“Whatever,” I said, brushing it off. “So what sort of stuff do you like?” I asked, running my hand over a white leather couch I was currently eyeing until I picked up the price tag. $7,000 is a major turn-off.

“I’m not sure what I like. How about we just look around?” he suggested, making his way around the displays to a bed I really like. Every time I come in here, I always see it and I always want it. Oh dear, what is he doing? Sidney threw himself face first onto the bed, like a little kid who had too much cotton candy for dessert.

“Come on Avery, jump on the bed,” he said, from the depths of the mattress.

“I don’t think we should be jumping on a bed in a furniture store,” I said, looking around to make sure no one saw what he just did.

“Live a little,” he said, standing up on the bed with his shoes on and proceeding to bounce up and down. I really thought I’d have a heart attack. He could see I was mortified and did it all the more. “I won’t stop until you get up here with me.”

“Fine fine. I’ll jump on the bed. Sit down,” I said before I hurled myself onto the bed next to him. “See? I did it. Now get down.”

“Oh no. The stakes have just gone up. Now you have to actually jump up and down with me,” he said in between hops. I could feel my throat constricting as I got up, with my shoes also on, and jumped a little.

“Okay, I’m done,” I said flopping down on the bed and just lying there, trying to catch my breath. I felt the bed stop shaking and the next thing I knew, he was right next to me.

“That wasn’t too bad, now was it?” he asked me, and truth was, I actually thought it was really fun, but I was too proud to admit someone had proved me wrong.

“It was alright,” I said, trying to suppress a smile. The smile gave me away.

“You loved it,” he said, sounding pleased with himself as he rolled over on his back next to me. I had the dirtiest thoughts to go with that and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Why make me do that though?” I asked, the giggles wearing off. He sat up and got off the now ruined bed with a shrug of his shoulders.

“You seem like you need to have some fun,” he said simply, looking down at me. “Now, back to furniture. I really like this bed. Very bouncy.”

Chapter three

I'm so happy everyone likes it! :)

Emma had been calling non-stop after I told her that I talked to Sidney Crosby. She’s a huge hockey fan and apparently he’s like, the best of the best. I had no idea. I don’t watch hockey. I don’t care. But more specifically, I don’t have time.

“Aves, you have to tell me what he’s like!” Em screeched at me before I left to go to his place this morning. She was over at my apartment and we were giggling like high-schoolers about another guy she managed to pick up.

“Em, calm down. I’m sure he’s just like any other person. I’m sure he puts his pants on one leg at a time,” I stated as I picked up my portfolio in one hand and my coffee in the other.

“I’m pretty sure he jumps into his pants. None of that one legged business,” she joked. “I think you should ask for an autograph and a picture,” she continued dreamily with a smile.

“No Em, that’s you. You should ask for an autograph and a picture. Me? I should ask what his style is and what color he wants to paint his dining room,” I snapped at her before walking out of my apartment and getting in my car.

Now I’m standing outside his house and I’m not too sure about the whole normal thing. His house is gargantuan. A ridiculous size for a single 21 year old guy, as Emma has told me. It’s brick and stone and has this… thing at the top of it. Almost like a lighthouse. What would you call that, a turret? Whatever it is, I like the house. I actually love the house. It doesn’t just have a flat front either. There are so many different dimensions to it, I can’t stop looking. As I’m still looking at it, walking up the front path, he opens the door. Oh God. Emma was right. He’s extremely good looking, except for the hair. I’m not too sure what’s going on with the hair. It looks like there’s roughly 5 pounds of hair gel caked on top of his head. Other than that, I can’t stop looking at him. I almost trip over a big decorative boulder in the middle of the walkway. How could I miss that? I finally make it to the steps and walk up to greet him. I have to tell myself over and over that he’s a client and to stop drooling.

“Hi, Mr. Crosby, I’m Avery,” I say, holding out my hand.

“Sidney,” he corrects me. “Nice to meet you Avery,” he says with a smile. “I hear you’re one of the best interior designers around.”

“Well, I try,” I say, blushing. “So, what do you need done?” I ask as I walk over the threshold, but before he answers, I hold up my hand. He has no furniture, no paint, and no style. This is an interior designer’s dream, to create something from scratch.

“I picked the floor out myself,” I hear him say behind me. I turn around to look at him in shock and disbelief.

“The floor is a start… But how long have you been living here?” I ask quizzically.

“I bought the house at the beginning of the season, so almost 6 months,” he says with a smile. I just stare at him. How could someone live in such a blank canvas of a house?

“This is going to need a lot of work…” I say, trailing off, wandering through an archway into the dining room that has a beautiful inlaid ceiling. “This,” I say, pointing at the high ceiling, “is beautiful. I can’t believe you haven’t done anything with any of this. You have a beautiful house.” He shrugged.

“I haven’t had time.”

“Well now that you have me, we’re making time,” I say, turning around to look at him. “We need to start with the basics. Paint colors. What are you thinking?” I ask, gazing around at the white walls.

“I’m not really sure what I like,” he says almost apologetically. “I grew up in a pretty dark house. Everything was a dark color, so I think I want to get away from that,” he says, staring at me with those mesmerizing hazel eyes. I had to rip my gaze away.

“Well, we can go for sort of a soft, almost beachy feel,” I state, waiting for his response.

“I think I need something, a little more, you know,” he says, gesturing around. I got it. Manly.

“You want something a little more manly?” I ask with a slight smile on my lips.

“Yes,” he says, dropping his eyes to the floor.

“I got it,” I say, understandingly. “What about gray? Like a warm homey gray. And what do you think about yellow? To liven this place up a bit,” I say with a laugh. “What does a 21 year old guy even do with a house this big?” I ask suddenly, taking a queue from Emma. He seems taken aback and takes a few minutes to answer.

“I don’t know. It’s my first really big purchase. I figured I’d go all out on it,” he says, blushing a bit, but he countered quickly. “Do you want to see the rest of the house?”

“I’m going to have to see it eventually if you want any help from me,” I say with a light tone.

“Right this way Avery,” he says, leading me through another open archway and into the kitchen, which is massive. The cabinets are a beautiful chestnut color and the counters a rich black. I run my hand over the counters, gazing at the many designs hidden within.

“It’s called Super Galaxy,” he says from somewhere behind me, I’m assuming, of the counters. “I picked that too.”

“It’s gorgeous,” I say enviously. “Good job.” A thought popped into my head. “This room is really dark,” I state, abruptly looking around and noticing he has no lights of any sort anywhere. I narrow my eyes a bit at him and he, once again, blushes.

“I haven’t had time?” he says it like a question.

“That excuse is no longer acceptable,” I say with a playful edge to my voice. This guy is so easy to be around, and more importantly, he seems like he’s going to be a good client. “When can you come out with me and look at paint colors?” I ask as I wander through to the blank living room.

“I don’t have a game on Monday. I can go after practice,” he says, coming up behind me. When I turn around, he’s inches from me, and I can smell his cologne. Oh God, what is he trying to do to me? Whatever it is, it’s working.

“Uhm,” I splutter, trying to create the words I need. “I can do Monday,” I say breathlessly.

“Well then, it’s a date,” he says, stepping away from me. I want to step with him, stay close. What is happening? I never get like this. This is Emma, this isn’t me. Now he’s smiling? I feel like melting into a puddle on the ground.

“A date,” I say playfully. “Well, I have to get going. So Monday, just meet me in the paint section at Lowe’s. Their paint is better,” I say, my business side coming back out.

“Okay,” he says, walking me to the door. His eyes seem to be sparkling, for what, I’m not sure. “I’ll see you then.”

The song!

So I named this story after a song by My Favorite Highway called Steel City. It's a really sweet song, so I'm going to give you the link! You can listen to it and everything. :)

http://www.imeem.com/artists/my_favorite_highway/music/EH-ZbILd/my-favorite-highway-steel-city/

Enjoy!

Chapter two

“Hey Em, how’d the interview go?” I ask the next day as I head to Ms. Lamar’s house, a client who wants her bathroom redone.

“AWFUL!” she yells, causing me to hold the phone away from my face until I can hear out of my ear again. “I went home to change right? And when I get to the interview, I go to cross my legs and I realize I’m wearing two different shoes!” she wails. I repress a snigger so as not to upset her. “I needed that job Aves! You don’t even know! You have your fancy apartment in downtown and I’m still living with my parents! Right now I’m working at the Y, life guarding, making nine dollars an hour. I’m currently the creepy old lifeguard. I needed that job!” I let her go, ranting and ranting while I figure out what to do with this woman’s bathroom. She can never decide on anything I bring in. One minute she likes it and the next she hates it. I’m just going to have to do what I think looks best. “AVERY?! Are you still listening to me?” she suddenly yells.

“Yeah, yeah Em. You were saying how you wore two different shoes,” I say distractedly, going over the color palette I have picked out for the bathroom. It’ll match the white quartz counters really well and the multiple windows definitely help.

“No Aves! I was saying how when I left, they said nothing! The people interviewing me didn’t even say that it was ‘A pleasure’, or whatever it is that you’re supposed to say after an interview! They said, ‘That’s all.’ And I left. I left without a word. Stop me Aves, because I’ll keep going.”

“Stop Em. You probably did fine. You’re just overreacting. You always do this. Calm down. Take a few deep breaths and relax,” I say, pulling out the blue paint chips for Ms. Lamar.

“Whatever Aves. I’m going to go throw myself off the UPMC building now,” she says dramatically before hanging up abruptly. I know she won’t do it. She’s always been a spaz, since the first day I met her. Honestly, the first thing she ever said to me was, “I swear, I’m having an asthma attack! I don’t even have asthma!” At the time I was trained in First-Aid, so according to the Good Samaritan laws or something like that, I’m obligated to help. Surprisingly, she was fine. She just got overworked because she saw her ex-boyfriend with another girl. We were 16. Seven years later and she’s still freaking out about the same things.
-
Ms. Lamar is definitely not the ideal client. “Well, I’m not sure. I really like that, but would it go with the color you have picked out?” she asks me for what seems like the forty-third time.

“Yes Ms. Lamar, that’s why I picked that color, so it would go with the cabinets in here,” I repeat.

“Oh, well, I don’t know…” she says, trailing off as my phone rings in my purse. I pull it out and glance down at the caller ID. It’s Emma, probably calling to tell me she didn’t have the nerve to jump off the building or something. I could strangle her sometimes. I answer it anyway, just to get away from Ms. Lamar and her indecisiveness.

“What is it Em?” I ask into the phone when it’s at my face.

“Did I tell you I had a zit on my cheek!? One I didn’t know about!?” she screams as if she’s about to be killed.

“No Em, you didn’t. But I’m sure you’re fine,” I say, trying to soothe her.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not!” she wails. I hear a thud in the background and I’m almost positive she’s thrown herself down on the couch dramatically, to provide emphasis to anyone who cares. “So what are you doing this fine Friday?” she suddenly asks. What’d I say? Spaz.

“I’m at Ms. Lamar’s house, helping her pick out colors and cabinets and all that jazz,” I say quietly.

“Hmm. Sounds like fun,” she says. “So what’d you do after I left Starbucks yesterday?”

“Well, I was going to call Mr. Henderson, but then I got a call from some other guy. Sidney Crosby? I don’t know,” I say nonchalantly as I draw little circles on the wall with my fingers. I hear an intake of breath on Emma’s end, and brace myself for the explosion I know is about to come.

“AVES! You do know who that is!? Don’t you!?” she shrieks into my ear. Even holding the phone a good two feet away from my face, I can still hear what she’s saying, and clearly. “Sidney Crosby!? The Captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins!? The same Sidney Crosby that had 110 points his rookie year!? The handsomely good-looking Sidney Crosby!? AVES ANSWER ME!”

“How can I answer you if all you’re doing is talking?” I ask with a laugh.

“Don’t play with my emotions Aves! Answer the questions!”

“I guess it is. I didn’t actually see the guy. He just called me,” I say with an edge of annoyance to my voice. I’m about to say more, but I can hear Ms. Lamar coming. “Yes Ms. Wilson, I’d love to answer your questions at a later time, but I’m with a client at the moment.” I look over my shoulder and smile at Ms. Lamar who has a fabric sample in one hand and a paint chip in the other. The two don’t remotely match.

“Aves! Don’t you hang up on me!” I can hear Emma yelling into the phone. “Aves!”

I snap my phone shut and turn around to face Ms. Lamar who has a slightly bewildered look on her face.

“Just another client,” I say quickly. “She has about a million questions!” I say with a laugh. Ms. Lamar nods at me before asking if I like the things she has in her hands. “Well,” I start gently, taking the color swatch and fabric out of her hands. “I have a few other ideas I’d like to run by you first. How about that?” I ask as we make our way back into her bathroom, where I’ve accomplished nothing.

Chapter one

“You need to relax,” Emma says to me as we walk into Starbucks. I have a huge portfolio under one arm and my cell phone held up to my ear with my other, talking to a client. “Put the phone down. Put it down!” she practically yells at me, like she’s trying to teach me a new trick, making a few people who are nearby turn their heads and look at us.

“Mr. Henderson? Yes, I’m sorry, I’m going to have to call you back about that wallpaper.” I click the phone shut and look at her. “Em, we’ve been over this, don’t interrupt me when I’m talking to a client,” I say angrily. I let out a sigh and rearrange the mass of things in my arms.

“Avery, you really need to slow down. You’re 23 and all you do is work,” Emma says as she orders her coffee. The guy behind the counter checks her out before giving the order to another barista. The thing about Emma is she’s beautiful but doesn’t know it. She acts so surprised when a guy asks for her number, even though her face is flawless and her hair is perfectly maintained at all times. I want to slap her.

“Em, I’m a successful interior designer at age 23. I can’t slow down. This is the life I’ve chosen, this is what I’m doing,” I state simply as I step up to the counter and the guy doesn’t so much as look twice at me. I let out a soft sigh to myself before ordering a White Chocolate Mocha, perfect for the February Pittsburgh day that’s raging on outside without us.

“Whatever Aves, but when you die of a cardiac arrest at the age of 40, don’t say I didn’t tell you.” I blink a few times at this, trying to understand what she’s saying before glaring at her as we sit down at a cute little table near a window, watching the world walk by. Emma glances down at her watch, and then looks up at me. “Aves, I forgot, I have an interview in like, 30 minutes, do you mind if I go?” she asks apologetically, her face turning red.

“No, not at all. I don’t mind,” I say as I take a sip of my coffee. I’m actually kind of glad she’s leaving because I know that if she stayed, all she would do is nag me about work. Speaking of work, I pull out my phone and dial Mr. Henderson’s number to talk to him about his atrocious floral wallpaper from the 80’s that he thinks is so wonderful. Just as I dial the number, a new number pops up on my screen, one that’s not in my contacts. I flip open my phone and put it to my ear.

“Hello?” I ask into the receiver.

“I’m looking for AV design?” a man with an accent asks my ear.

“This is AV design. I’m Avery, how can I help you?” I say in an almost robotic, practiced voice, pulling out my notepad to jot down any crucial information I may need.

“Yes, I just purchased a house here in Pittsburgh and I need help doing the whole decorating thing,” he says sheepishly.

“That’s what I’m best at,” I say. “Can I ask your name?”

“Sidney Crosby,” he says followed immediately with a clearing of the throat. Sidney Crosby? Wasn’t he some sort of hockey player? Who knows. I’m getting paid regardless.

“Okay, and I just need to know what you want done,” I say with an even tone, scribbling his name down on my legal pad.

“Everything,” he says with a high-pitched half-laugh.

“And I can contact you at this number?” I ask, all business.

“Yes,” Sidney answers briskly.

“What’s the best time for me to get in contact with you?” I continue, my business woman persona working overtime. He hesitated for a minute before answering.

“I really don’t have a specific time. My schedule changes all the time, but I’ll be around this Saturday,” he states, allowing me to draw my own conclusions.

“Alright Mr. Crosby,” I say, causing people to look at me with expectant looks on their faces. I glared at them until they turned around. Why would they be looking at me? “I’ll be in touch with you this Saturday. We can go to your place and get things figured out with colors and the whole lot.” I’m about to shut my phone when I hear him say something else.

“I’m going to need help with furniture too…” he says awkwardly. Nice.

“That won’t be a problem. That’s what I’m here for. I’ll talk to you Saturday,” I say before he can respond and click my phone shut so I can call back one waiting Mr. Henderson and his wallpaper.