Love Beyond Words (City Lights: San Francisco Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

a solid five minutes, Natalie returned to her book, but with eye on her customer should he need her.
    Hours passed. The café saw a swell of business around seven o’clock, and then it grew quiet again. Close to ten, it was empty but for Julian and Natalie, the former writing almost nonstop, and the latter watching, her own hand aching out of solidarity.
    At ten to eleven, Julian set down his pen and rubbed his hand, glancing about as though he were a train passenger who’d fallen asleep only to wake in a strange country. His eyes found Natalie on her perch behind the counter.
    “‘The sleeper has awakened’,” she said with a short laugh.
    “Come again?”
    “Uh, it’s from Dune. The book? Sorry, bad joke.”
    “Not bad,” Julian said with a smile. “But I haven’t read it.”
    “It’s a good one.” She started over to him as he began to clear his plate and mug. “Here, let me…”
    “It’s no trouble…”
    “No, please, it’s my job.”
    She took the dishes from him, but before she could retreat to the counter, he asked, “Do you close soon?”
    “In about ten minutes.”
    “And…you work alone? Every night?”
    “Yes. I go to school during the day. At State.” She didn’t know what prompted her to disclose that. A desire to show she wasn’t merely a barista perhaps, though she’d never felt there was anything wrong with that before.
    Julian appeared not to have heard anyway. He surveyed the café, his brow furrowed. “Is it safe?”
    “The neighborhood is safe. And I live right upstairs, so…”
    “Maybe better not to tell anyone that.”
    Natalie’s cheeks burned. “I don’t. I mean, not usually.”
    “I’m sorry.” Julian said. “I’m sure I sound like a lowlife myself, asking you those questions. It’s none of my business.” He hastily pulled on his hoodie and gathered his things.
    Natalie bit her lip. She wanted to tell him there was absolutely nothing about him that was creepy. His presence flustered her, that was true, but his strange shyness, so incongruous with his looks, was oddly comforting. But there was no chance she could—or would—articulate any of that, so she stood in the middle of café, still holding his mug and plate and feeling like a fool.
    “You’ve been working hard. What is it you’re writing?” she blurted and her cheeks went scarlet again. “Never mind, sorry. That’s none of my business.”
    “It’s nothing.” He tossed the notebook into his bag and zipped it swiftly. “Not yet. Maybe something. We’ll see.” He seemed just as at a loss for something more to say and asked, “Do you write?”
    “Oh, no, not at all. I study accounting. I read but I don’t have the poetry in me to write.
    “I doubt that.” Julian smiled that wistful smile again. “I doubt that very much.” He shouldered his bag. “Good night, Natalie.”
    “Oh. Good night,” she returned, and he was gone leaving behind the clean, expensive scent of his cologne and that compliment she knew would follow her well into the night.
    #
    Natalie had thought she let Julian slip away yet again, and her heart sang when he came back the next night. Their initial conversation was almost identical to the one previous: a small exchange of “hellos” and “I’m fines.” He ordered another coffee—black—and another pastry that would remain half-eaten. His smile for her was warm but brief. He retreated to the same table he had occupied the night before. The pen and black and white notebook were produced and he immediately set to writing.
    By eight o’clock, the café was humming with bits of conversation and the clinking of mugs on saucers. Whenever Natalie had a spare moment, she found Julian either scribbling away in an unbroken stream, or giving his pen a break and tapping it thoughtfully against his chin as he watched the people around him.
    Near closing time, it grew quiet again. Natalie tidied up after the rush, wiped down tables and cleaned mugs and plates, and then