The Blind Date

From his position at the end of the aisle at the Food Mart, Ryan watched the young black woman at the other end flip through a magazine. She looked a couple of years younger than his twenty-four.

Impeccable in a blue dress that showed off her hourglass figure, she had a Coach purse hung over one shoulder and wore a pair of patent leather pumps shiny enough to double as a mirror. Her dark brown, shoulder-length hair looked lustrous and silky, covering most of her face. Lucky for him, he’d seen her when she first walked in and had received the full effect.

Other than a quick glance, she hadn’t paid attention to him, but he couldn’t say the same. He’d been watching her ever since she entered the store and had yet to work up the nerve to approach.

Shaking his head, he walked away.

He wasn’t exactly dressed to impress, unshaven in an old T-shirt, worn jeans, and a baseball cap turned backwards. She’d probably take one look at him and laugh.

Ryan went two aisles over and picked up the toiletries he’d come in to purchase and then headed for the check-out. At the front, he saw her standing in line. He went to the other cashier and waited behind an elderly woman with a cane, counting out her payment in quarters.

The young black woman laughed and said something to the male cashier. He couldn’t hear what she’d said, but he’d heard her laugh well enough, and he liked the sound of it. From his sideways grin, it looked like the cashier was flirting with her.

Ryan looked at the elderly woman beside him. Her wrinkled fingers trembled as she counted.

“One, two, three, four—four dollars. One, two, three, four—five dollars.”

He and the cashier made eye contact, and the young woman smiled apologetically.

His gaze shifted again, and he saw the object of his attention had finished her purchase and headed on her way out the door.

“One, two, three, four—seven dollars.”

A wave of panic seized him. He couldn’t let her walk away. He had to take the chance, even if he risked being laughed at. Besides, if she brushed him off, soon he’d be back in Oklahoma and would never see her again.

“One, two, three, four—nine dollars.”

What did he have to lose?

“Sorry,” Ryan muttered to the cashier. “I’ll be back to get those.” Abandoning his items on the conveyor belt, he turned sideways and slid past the senior citizen, rushing to the revolving door.

Outside, he looked left down Michigan Avenue, then right—and that’s when he saw her. Heart racing, he quickened his steps and walked up beside her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she said cautiously.

“I don’t usually do this, and I wish I’d thought of a line before I approached you, but I . . . I saw you and followed you and wanted to meet you.”

She kept walking, but a small smile hovered around her mouth. “Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

“I saw you, too.”

“You did?” Progress already. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “What did you think?”

“I thought the whole hat to the back thing doesn’t work unless you’re a hip-hop artist or in a boy band.”

“Ouch. That hurt.” He twisted the brim of his hat to the front. “What else?”

“Are you really following me?”

“I’ve been following you since we were in the Food Mart.”

“Should I be worried?”

“I’m harmless.”

She looked him up and down but didn’t say a word. They walked along in silence. He’d acted before thinking, and he rummaged through his brain to think of what to say next.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“You first.”

“Ryan Stewart.”

“Shawna.”

“I’ll never forget that name. Do you have a last name?”

“Yes, but I’m not giving it to you.” They slowed to a stop in front of Saks Fifth Avenue. “Well, Ryan Stewart, as flattering as it is to have a man follow me from the Food Mart, I have to go now. My lunch break’s over, and I have to get back to work.”

Delaney Diamond's books