A love forsaken

Fairy tales always mirror love this way; a damsel in distress stuck in a tower under the spell of her wicked stepmother; she is found and rescued by a charming prince. It was literally that simple. He slammed the book shut and threw it back into the rack. The book landed noisily and the other people from the store turned to look at him like he was nuts. They were not very far from the truth. "It's a bookstore, man. You don't have to be so lousy." The man who stood by the shelf next to him said. Blake gave him a once-over and turned to face the rack. It held a few self help pamphlets, ranging from s****l boosters to STI control and guides to having safe and successful abortions. It was all f****d up. "You have got to be kidding me," he said to himself, but loud enough for the storekeeper to hear. She gave him a weird look. "Why is everything about life so s****l these days?" He asked her. "I'm sorry you find it that way, but that's what that rack is meant for, sir. You could check the shelves along the aisles. I'm sure there will be something for you there." "Really?" He asked with fake interest. "Can you tell me what this book is about?" He lifted his hand so she could have a clear view of the book in his hands. She studied the cover for a while before her face lit up with recognition. "Read that one," she said excitedly. "I'm pretty sure you've read every single book on these shelves," he replied, rather dryly. "Is there something you want, mister?" She asked. Blake was beginning to get a rise out of her and she wasn't going to be able to control it for much longer. "I wouldn't mind a recommendation," he smirked. "What's your preferred genre?" There was this evil glint in his eyes that told her to tread carefully. "What's your preferred genre?" He replied. He found it amusing that he could get a lady so mad on a first meeting. Technically, it wasn't their first meeting. He had shopped at this bookstore a lot of times but had never tried to start a conversation. If he knew it was going to be this interesting, he probably wouldn't have held back until now. "You're holding up the line, sir" she said through gritted teeth. Blake shook his head disapprovingly. "You know, that tone on a customer is all shades of wrong. I promise you, the management would agree with me." "Then you can call the management to help you with your book recommendations." She told him. Blake was shocked by her response. He wanted her to tremble in fear of losing her job and maybe apologize to him, but it wasn't forthcoming. "This is not how I expected this to play out," he sighed. "We don't always get what we want," she replied smugly. "Now if you don't mind..." "Are you going to treat a customer this way?" He asked. "You don't mind me going to the management of this store? Cause I'd really love to." "Next!" She called out. The old lady who stood beside Blake tried to come in front of him. He stood his ground and lifted a finger. "Excuse me, Ma'am" he turned and flashed her the cutest smile he could manage. "I just need a few more minutes with the young lady here and I'll be out of your face for sure." She nodded in response. It always worked. "Thank you," he whispered and turned to face the storekeeper once again. He looked at her more closely now. She was beautiful. Not the runway kind of beautiful. The mild, innocent, family-girl, kind of beautiful. Not loud enough to attract a lusting crowd, but a perfect fit for his home. Something he could stare at after a long day's work. Her eyes were a shade of orange. Burning orange. Hot enough to start a fire in his soul and light his world till eternity. They reminded him of his mother. Only that they did not have that soothing feeling he sought for. He pushed the thought of his mother away. She was resting in pure bliss, he hoped, but her eyes stared at him, from the soul of another. It was just the way he loved it. Just the way he loved his women. Mild, but still hot. But it was the mild kind that had brought him to where he was. Making a woman uncomfortable was never on his list of things to do after college. However, he could not help but watch with amusement as her eyes turned a shade darker whenever she got angry. It was too early to determine if that was how she always reacted, but Blake chose to stick to his theory. She was a good one, he could tell. So scared she had her walls high up. Her defenses did not fail to show up as he tried to strike what he'd consider the most friendly conversation with her. That may not be the way she saw it, but that was what it was. "Are you done staring?" She asked impatiently. "I don't know why Ms. Grace let you have her time. She's always in a hurry." She said angrily. "Don't you pity her condition?" She looked at him like he was some filthy animal. "I care about her, honey," he said in a sultry voice. "And she cares about you too," he smiled. He paused for a while to see if she got the message. She shrugged. "You should consider reading from the heart of Nora Roberts. You're quite the romantic." She replied. "I'm glad you noticed that," he smiled. "Which one would you recommend I read first?" He probed further. "Try Hot Ice," she said and gestured for him to step out of the line. "Ahh. I see," he laughed. "Just like you. Hot ice. You seem to be so cold on the outside, but your eyes..." He trailed off. She stared at him hoping for a continuation, but he went silent. "What's wrong with my eyes?" She asked impatiently after a minute had gone by. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with them. They're perfect. Just perfect." He said with a smile. "Ask for her number already, Shakespeare!" The old lady shouted. A blush crept onto her cheeks, and she tried to hide it by keeping her head low. "I don't think that's something you should be ashamed of," Blake said. "I don't think you should be slowing down my business either, but you're doing it anyway." She spat. Blake shook his head. "Now hold on, princess. I was asked to take my time." "But not mine..." She added. "I'm not taking yours," he shrugged. "I'm a customer." She reached for one of her notepads on the counter and tore out a sheet of paper. She scribbled on it for a minute, using the book she had picked out for him as a support. When she was done, she folded it and put it into a bag, along with the book. "6pm. Call me before you take off. Don't be late." She handed the bag to him and gave him a hard stare. Blake was in shock. He had not expected to get to her so easily. "What about the money for the books?" He asked. "Next," she said without looking up to face him for even a second. Blake didn't need another warning to tell him to leave the line. He nodded and walked away from the counter, not without giving her another glance. He picked his coat from the coat hanger close to the door and walked out of the store. The cold wind hit him hard. He carelessly dropped the bag on the floor and hurriedly put on his coat. He unwrapped the book and threw the cellophane bag on the ground, not bothering to look at the book or read the excerpt on the back cover like he would whenever he got a new book. He flipped through the pages in search of the paper she had folded and put in it. When he found it, he dropped the book as well on the wet ground. He held the paper in his hand and looked between the store and the paper for some seconds before he finally opened it. For something that was written in a hurry, it was a beautiful note. It held a phone number and an address, and her name. Miranda. "Once again, you have got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath. "Another M?" He asked. A man that was passing by turned to look at him. He didn't need to say anything for him to know what was on his mind. He nodded and gave the man a thumbs up so that he knew he was alright. "Nothing is wrong man," he said. "I'm just in shock." The man shook his head and walked away. He must have thought he was mad or gradually losing his mind. Which was not so far from the truth. He wanted to walk back into the store and demand that she tell him her actual name, and not what she gave him. But he refrained himself from doing so. She didn't seem like the kind he would want to mess around with for a long time. She meant business and she didn't hesitate to show it. The jinx with M had to end. They never ended well. This was not going to be any different. But it didn't mean he was going to turn down her invitation. What kind of a gentleman would it make him?