I was new to this city. Corporate had sent me there to begin a new endeavor. There was a great deal of exploring to do and I had the time for it as my schedule was my own. I would spend mornings looking for the perfect coffee shop and, in the evening, it was a wine bar, a bookstore, or a record shop. Yes, I still buy records. I had found a large open apartment in an old warehouse. The entire third floor was mine.
So, one morning I was at the coffee shop near my apartment. The shop had a marvelous selection of dark roasts and of my personal favorite, espresso. I had occupied a table somewhere in the middle. The espresso I sipped was strong and wonderful. They had some light jazz playing in the background that seemed to alternate between Diana Krall, Norah Jones, and Melody Gardot. There were some other artists I did not know but made mental note to investigate.
The little bell on the door of the establishment rang which signaled the entrance of someone. I glanced up from my book (Gabriel Faure: A Musical Life) and there was this positively stunning woman. She had long dark ringlets that hung down past her shoulders. Her eyes were the color of dark emeralds and lips that were dark red. Her attire was a dark purple dress with matching shoes.
She glided to the counter and in a voice that floated over the room, she said,
"May I have a double expresso please?"
Espresso! I thought, a woman after my own tastes. She passed my table and seemed to notice my book, which caused her to smile at me. I thought I caught the faint scent of cinnamon and vanilla. It was time for me to go to work.
Later in the week, I sat at a wine bar. It was evening and I had put in several full days for the company. I deserved some down time. I sat at a table, with the same book, sipping a wonderful Merlot. I have a weakness for them you know.
The door opened and there she was again. I was astonished. She wore black this time. It was a clingy dress that hugged every curve she possessed. The hair and eyes were the same, but the lips were darker than before. The dress showed a great deal of her breasts, but not everything. I was in awe of this vision.
To the counter she went and ordered a Cabernet (another of my favorites). She turned to find a table (she was alone and I could not believe it). Once more, she walked by my table and again I caught the scent of cinnamon and vanilla. She walked by my table and stopped.
Then she turned and looked at me with a smile.
"Are you stalking me?" she said.
I stood quickly and said "No, not at all!!"
She walked to my table smiling a greater smile and said,
"I'm kidding, I recognized you and the book you were reading from the coffee shop a few days ago."
I was very relieved. I asked,
"May I offer you a seat?"
Yes, she said.
We sat and I introduced myself. I am Stephen. May I ask your name? Nadia, she replied. As she pronounced her name, I noticed she seemed to linger on the vowel sounds. "Nadia" floated in dulcet tones to my ears.
I am incredibly pleased to meet you, I said and her reply was
"We shall see."
The evening passed very pleasantly with several hours of light talk about where I was from and what I was doing. However, I learned extraordinarily little of Nadia except her coffee choices and her tastes in wine. The evening ended and Nadia said she must go. I stood and thanked her for a wonderful evening.
She replied,
"Perhaps we will meet again, yes?"
I said,
"I certainly hope so.
Some days later, I was in the local record shop. They are fewer these days you know. I waded through the classical section looking for my favorite composers, Berlioz, Faure, Poulanc, Debussy, Ravel, and Satie. It was a bit musty in the room when I once more caught the scent of cinnamon and vanilla.
I turned and there she was, Nadia. My heart leaped within me.
She said,
"Three times we have met unexpectedly. This is meaningful."
I replied,