Loyal Lawyer - Jeannine Colette Page 0,8
to walk to get to the alleyway door that makes it feel like she’s here on illegal business.
“What’s up, Charity?” Shawn says, letting her in. “Did you have a hot date last night?”
Charity pulls up a stool that we have dubbed Charity’s Spot because she stops by so often. The kitchen is on her way to the Garden Room, a lounge where she works as a server a few days a week. “Nah, had to work, and no cute prospects came in. You?”
The two of them are constantly comparing dating notes. I find it hilarious because Charity is searching for a guy who has a great work ethic, doesn’t take himself too seriously, and loves to dance, which is Shawn to a T. Shawn always finds the kind of girls who are exactly like Charity—beautiful, smart, spontaneous, and wants more out of a relationship than a few dates.
I keep pointing out the irony of it all, but they blow me off.
I stand from my desk, grab the order list from the printer, and walk out to the main kitchen area, where Shawn is finishing the last of the boxes so we can package an order that’s going out tomorrow morning.
“Met this hot chick named Ryanne online and took her out last night.”
“Rain, like the weather?” Charity asks.
“I think he meant Rae Anne,” I explain.
“No. I said Ryanne,” he dictates with emphasis before annunciating out the entire name. “Like rye bread. Rye-Anne.”
“Ohh,” Charity elongates the O sound. “Figures she has a Y in her name.”
“Shawn, what is it with you and girls who spell their names in the unconventional way?” I ponder.
“It’s like you look for it on those swiping dating apps,” she adds.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do,” we say in unison.
His mouth twists as he leans back and crosses his arms, daring us to explain.
I start, “Alyson, Londyn, Caryn,” counting them off on my fingers.
“Don’t forget about Jasmyn. That girl was cray. Actually, all the women you’ve dated with a Y in their name have been nothing but trouble.”
Shawn looks at us, bemused. “How do you know so much about the women I date?”
“You overshare,” she deadpans.
“It’s your best and worst quality.” I pat him on the shoulder as I place the order form on the counter in front of him.
His brows rise, and his head nods. “Huh. Never realized that before. What can I say? I have a type. When their name is unique, so are they.”
“You just watch out for Ryanne. If your track record is any indication, she’ll be going through your cell or combing your carpet for other women’s hair.” Charity sits up on her stool with a raised finger and excited expression. “Remember the girl who was always convinced you were cheating?”
He nods as he recalls. “Mylie. Shit. She had a Y in her name too. I do have a type.” The look of revelation on his face is comical. “I’m gonna do some research on this. You might say they’re crazy, but someone named Donna or Samantha is not going to be a freak in the sheets. I’ll have to put this to the test—in the name of science, of course.”
“Good luck with that. I swear, it’s a carousel of dud after dud in this city. Go to work, drinks at the bar, watch sports. That’s all guys in Philadelphia want to do because there is always a game on.” Charity rolls her eyes as she pops a chocolate morsel in her mouth.
He nods. “We do live in the best city for sports fans. Phillies, 76ers, Flyers, Eagles—”
“I can’t stand that fight song—‘Fly, Eagles Fly,’ ” she drones on. “I blame the sports. Men here think everything is a game.”
He leans over the counter. “Don’t hate the player—”
She throws a piece of chocolate at his nose, cutting him off. “Ugh. Why can’t men be smooth and sophisticated, like they are in the movies?”
The two continue their diatribe while my mind instantly roams to thoughts of a man who seems smooth and sophisticated. There was something about his hands and the way he touched his face as he spoke. It brought attention to his features as he moved them about, like a conductor eliciting a melody from an orchestra—fluid and soulful. An unexpected smile crosses my lips as I think about Sebastian. That handsome stranger certainly came into my world at the right time. It’s been days since we met for coffee, and I’ve thought about him more than once. His chivalry, the way he