Edwin was definitely not the sort of guy I fell for. Not even close. I fell for wild boys who partied hard. Boys in black leather jackets with lots of tattoos and rings in their noses. The bad boys, the loud boys, the boys who knew where to find the best parties on Friday and Saturday nights. I knew they were trashy and rude, but I liked it. I couldn't help myself.
I liked boys who blew me away with the pace of their passion; boys who left me breathless. Which pretty much sums up the reason why I found myself kicked out of art school at 19, moving back in with my dad, and accepting a job working with Edwin at his boring old bookstore. I took the job partly to keep my dad from wringing my neck, and partly because I needed the money so I could eventually move back out and have a real life again.
Living with my dad was such a drag. I was really sorry about messing up college, but he wouldn't even listen to my apologies. He said I was a failure and wouldn't amount to anything else. He hardly ever talked to me anymore, spending all his time on the phone and computer with his new, long-distance girlfriend, Moira. And when he did talk to me, all he did was shout. All I wanted was to save enough money to get an apartment of my own, so I took the job at Edwin's bookstore even though I was sure I'd die from boredom.
Edwin was really nice to offer it to me. He was my dad's friend from when they were kids and I knew he was doing my dad a big favor hiring me. I was also pretty sure I was the last person he'd imagined working there, me with my mismatched clothes and punk rock haircut, but he never seemed anything but glad to have my help. He treated me so kindly and with such respect it almost bowled me over. He was more than twice my age, had grey hair and glasses, and from what I could tell only had one hobby: reading. Definitely not the kind of guy I fell for, but I fell hard.
The job itself was simple enough, working the cash register, answering the phone, and shelving orders when they came in. Mornings were busy with lots of people buying papers and magazines, but by the afternoon things got pretty quiet and Edwin and I would take turns watching the store while the other went to get lunch. When Edwin returned he sometimes brought back a few treats from a bakery down the block and we'd eat them together and talk.
Maybe it was the pastries that started it, or the way he carefully asked about my experiences at art school without actually mentioning that I'd been expelled. Or maybe it was the warmth of his voice and the fact that he really listened to what I had to say, he actually seemed interested in my opinions and observations. He even remembered that I especially liked the hazelnut butter cookies and always included one when he bought a selection of cookies for us to share. Whatever it was, I found myself honestly enjoying the quiet hours at the end of the day and had no trouble getting up in the morning when my alarm went off, something I'd never really experienced before.
Still, it took me by surprise when I realised, after working with him for four months, I'd been thinking of him as good-looking. I liked his olive skin and neatly trimmed, grey mustache. I liked how poised he was at all times, how even and sure of himself he seemed. So different from the swaggering self-confidence of the guys I'd known at school. I felt inexplicably drawn to him. Even his wavy, grey hair and the wrinkles at the corners of his honey-brown eyes made something stir inside me.
Maybe, because he was not the sort of guy I fell for; there was no way I could see it coming. So much about him was exotic to me, so completely different from anything I'd ever known, I couldn't have predicted what would happen between us. It was a complete surprise at every turn, but not an unwelcome one.
It was closing time on a Friday night, typically our slowest time of the week, and Edwin was busy shelving the last of a delivery that had come in. I was at the register waiting for the clock to tick to the top of the hour so I could close down the store. I watched him working, his reading glasses at the end of his nose, and felt a vague and unexpected affection building in me.
I can't explain it, or how it managed to build to such a degree, but watching him working I found myself growing more and more attracted to him, more and more aroused by the thoughts I was having. I wondered what it would be like to kiss him, if it would be different than other guys I'd kissed. I wondered if he'd be slow and careful or if he was one of those guys who turned into an animal when he was aroused. What would it be like to be with a much older man, to be with Edwin? I stared and I wondered, secretly holding that thought in my head, when he turned and caught my eye, startling me out of my dream world, I could tell by the look on his face that he'd been aware of me staring at him.
"Are you all right, Leah?"
I blushed and quickly looked away, noticing for the first time that it was 5 minutes past closing. I hurried to switch off the computer and turn the sign to CLOSED; noticing with some alarm that my heart was beating hard and there was a growing heat between my legs. I grabbed the cash drawer from the register and slid out from behind the counter, heading to the office in the back of the store. I could see him watching me the whole time, his eyes following me over the tops of his glasses. My heart skipped a beat with the thrill and inappropriateness of it all.
I carried the cash drawer to the office at the back of the store and heard Edwin turn his key in the front door, locking us both inside. I sat down at the desk and started to count out the cash, my fingers shaking, my mind racing, as I tried to keep track of the exact amount. I couldn't get my heart to slow down or the arousing images of Edwin out of my head.
I took a deep breath and relaxed slightly. I closed my eyes but saw him in my mind. I snapped them open and grabbed the calculator, trying again to count out the change from the drawer.
The phone rang and I heard Edwin answer it at the front of the store. I took a deep breath and started over, carefully counting out the dollar bills.
"Leah?" Edwin stuck his head into the office and held out the cordless phone to me. "It's your father." he said, quietly as I took the phone.
"Hi, Dad."
"Hi, Leah, listen, I forgot to tell you Moira's here this weekend." he said quickly. I could hear the sound of water running the background and the clatter of pots and pans. "I'm making Shrimp Madagascar." he added with obvious pride. My dad almost never cooked for just us, but he loved to make big, elaborate meals for his girlfriend.
"Oh." I said, slightly annoyed, but not sure why he was telling me this.
"So do you think you can go out tonight? So we can have a nice night alone?" There was more pot-clanging in the background and I heard him swear under his breath as something dropped.
