Read Online The Merchant of Venice Beach by Celia Bonaduce - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Celia Bonaduce
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watched her go.
“What a day!” Suzanna said.
“See? All’s right with the world,” Eric said. “Now, if Phyllis had liked those sandwiches, then you’d have something to think about.”
Suzanna leaned her elbows on the podium.
“I’m exhausted.”
“You need to have more faith in us.”
“Oh, right! Did you have faith in those sandwiches?”
“I didn’t have to . . . . I run the bookstore,” he said, kissing her on the top of her head. “Just relax, Suzanna. How many times do I have to tell you that? Things always work out.”
Suzanna knew that the kiss was just friendly. She had trained her heart to not leap when he did that, but it was still an act of will not to react. She watched him go back to the bookstore.
Eric was right about a lot of stuff, but he wasn’t right all the time.
Everything didn’t always work out.
CHAPTER 6
Suzanna had been taking dance lessons for several weeks, and every bone in her body screamed. In tempo—but it still screamed. She had no idea dance classes would be so draining. Of course, the mental exertion of trying to learn dance steps while fantasizing about her instructor probably added to her exhaustion. Suzanna knew in her aching bones that if she could just master some of the movements, she’d have a shot at her teacher. As it was, that infernal Lauren still appeared to be teacher’s pet.
Keeping her salsa secret proved to be easier than she had thought it would be. The boys went about their business and she went about hers. The only real problem she faced was practice. With the guys living and working side by side, she really couldn’t focus on practicing between classes. As it was, every morning, while Suzanna brushed her teeth with a two-minute-timer Sonicare toothbrush, she focused on various instructions. She also practiced her steps when she was grocery shopping, banking, or any time she found herself in any kind of line. Besides getting her ready for the next class, these impromptu practice sessions made her feel as if she were getting closer to Rio.
Business was good, both in the bookstore and the tearoom. There was a bit of a spike in business when the regulars and marijuana users found out, through word of mouth and tweets, that Fernando was serving lavender sandwiches, and everyone wanted to see for themselves. Personally, Suzanna was hoping the curiosity factor would soon wear thin; she was sick of Fernando’s gloating face every time a customer raved about his innovation.
One afternoon, while the afternoon-tea crowd was ebbing, Suzanna gathered up the day’s receipts and was about to head into the back office, when the door of the tearoom opened. Although the sun was in her eyes, Suzanna could decipher the silhouettes of a man and a woman entering.
Damn! Latecomers.
Suzanna sighed and neatly stacked the receipts on the podium. She put on her best welcome-to-our-cozy-corner-of-the-world smile and grabbed some menus. As the door closed and her eyes adjusted to the light, her smile froze.
It was Rio and Lauren.
Suzanna’s palms started to sweat. She grabbed the menus, but they started to slip out of her wet palms. She fumbled, but retrieved the menus before Rio or Lauren noticed the slipup—or her. Suzanna looked around the room in a panic. Because the afternoon rush was over, Harri was off duty and Fernando was busy cleaning up in the kitchen. She was on her own. Appearing as casual as possible—or at least trying not to float to the ceiling—Suzanna sauntered over to them, making sure she was not hunching.
“Table for two?”
“Yes, thank you,” Rio said.
“Follow me.”
Suzanna led them to the best table in the house. Maybe she couldn’t impress these two with her dancing, but she could show off her establishment to the best of her ability! As she put the menus on the table, she could see Rio had his hand on the small of Lauren’s back, ushering her toward a seat. They were both dressed casually, in jeans, so Suzanna knew they hadn’t come from
“What a day!” Suzanna said.
“See? All’s right with the world,” Eric said. “Now, if Phyllis had liked those sandwiches, then you’d have something to think about.”
Suzanna leaned her elbows on the podium.
“I’m exhausted.”
“You need to have more faith in us.”
“Oh, right! Did you have faith in those sandwiches?”
“I didn’t have to . . . . I run the bookstore,” he said, kissing her on the top of her head. “Just relax, Suzanna. How many times do I have to tell you that? Things always work out.”
Suzanna knew that the kiss was just friendly. She had trained her heart to not leap when he did that, but it was still an act of will not to react. She watched him go back to the bookstore.
Eric was right about a lot of stuff, but he wasn’t right all the time.
Everything didn’t always work out.
CHAPTER 6
Suzanna had been taking dance lessons for several weeks, and every bone in her body screamed. In tempo—but it still screamed. She had no idea dance classes would be so draining. Of course, the mental exertion of trying to learn dance steps while fantasizing about her instructor probably added to her exhaustion. Suzanna knew in her aching bones that if she could just master some of the movements, she’d have a shot at her teacher. As it was, that infernal Lauren still appeared to be teacher’s pet.
Keeping her salsa secret proved to be easier than she had thought it would be. The boys went about their business and she went about hers. The only real problem she faced was practice. With the guys living and working side by side, she really couldn’t focus on practicing between classes. As it was, every morning, while Suzanna brushed her teeth with a two-minute-timer Sonicare toothbrush, she focused on various instructions. She also practiced her steps when she was grocery shopping, banking, or any time she found herself in any kind of line. Besides getting her ready for the next class, these impromptu practice sessions made her feel as if she were getting closer to Rio.
Business was good, both in the bookstore and the tearoom. There was a bit of a spike in business when the regulars and marijuana users found out, through word of mouth and tweets, that Fernando was serving lavender sandwiches, and everyone wanted to see for themselves. Personally, Suzanna was hoping the curiosity factor would soon wear thin; she was sick of Fernando’s gloating face every time a customer raved about his innovation.
One afternoon, while the afternoon-tea crowd was ebbing, Suzanna gathered up the day’s receipts and was about to head into the back office, when the door of the tearoom opened. Although the sun was in her eyes, Suzanna could decipher the silhouettes of a man and a woman entering.
Damn! Latecomers.
Suzanna sighed and neatly stacked the receipts on the podium. She put on her best welcome-to-our-cozy-corner-of-the-world smile and grabbed some menus. As the door closed and her eyes adjusted to the light, her smile froze.
It was Rio and Lauren.
Suzanna’s palms started to sweat. She grabbed the menus, but they started to slip out of her wet palms. She fumbled, but retrieved the menus before Rio or Lauren noticed the slipup—or her. Suzanna looked around the room in a panic. Because the afternoon rush was over, Harri was off duty and Fernando was busy cleaning up in the kitchen. She was on her own. Appearing as casual as possible—or at least trying not to float to the ceiling—Suzanna sauntered over to them, making sure she was not hunching.
“Table for two?”
“Yes, thank you,” Rio said.
“Follow me.”
Suzanna led them to the best table in the house. Maybe she couldn’t impress these two with her dancing, but she could show off her establishment to the best of her ability! As she put the menus on the table, she could see Rio had his hand on the small of Lauren’s back, ushering her toward a seat. They were both dressed casually, in jeans, so Suzanna knew they hadn’t come from
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