Whipped Cream and Vanilla Candles

I walked quickly past the isles, feeling the leering presence on my back. I ducked into the first isle I saw, grabbing two scented candles as I continued to power walk down on the faux linoleum floor. Glancing behind me, I spotted the middle aged man a dozen or so paces in back of me so I picked up the pace. My footsteps echoed loudly in the empty store, most of the customers in their beds for the night.

Up ahead, I spotted a younger man turn down the snack foods row and I made a beeline straight towards him. There was safety in numbers. Turning the corner on a dime, I almost crashed directly into the man I set my sights on. Interrupted from his errand run, his bright eyes flickered to my face but I peeked around the Cheese-Its to find the balding man still following me.

Shit. What was I going to do? A scent of vanilla reached my nose and I glanced down at the candles I had grabbing to be used as a weapon in case I needed something to throw. “Uh, here sir!” I voiced loudly, my eyes pleading to the man in front of me while craning my neck around the snack barrier at the same time. “I have those candles you wanted.” I shoved the vanilla candles into his unwilling arms.

Confused, the man shook his head, trying to give the candles back to me. “I didn’t ask for –“
I shushed him, a desperate look in my eyes. “I can go find those other things you asked me to go find now,” I half yelled, eying the older man as he walked by reluctantly. After he passed, I breathed a sigh of relief and placed a hand on one of the shelves to catch the breath I didn’t know I was holding. The brunette man in front of me slowly lowered his arms, the candles still fully grasped in between his fingers.

“Finally,” I breathed, turning back to the man I owed my life to. “That guy was following me around for ten minutes looking like he wanted to talk to me.”

“You do work here,” the man spoke uncertainly. My eyes drifted down to his perfectly white teeth and I sucked in my lower lip.

Realizing that I need to reply, I forced out a, “he was probably going to ask where the condoms were. He had that look in his eyes.”

He grinned, flashing me those pearly whites yet again. “What if I asked where the condoms were?” I gripped the shelf tighter to keep my legs from crumpling beneath me.

“Second isle, on the left,” I replied quicker than I should have. Flames raced up my neck and onto my cheeks as I blushed heavily. I coughed loudly, brushing a lock of hair behind my ears. “Not that I would know where they were as if I go down that isle all the time. Because I don’t. A lot of people ask where it is, so I need to be knowledgeable so I don’t get fired. I can’t handle getting fired, I need this job to pay for my little sister’s college fund and I—“

“Natasha, is it?” he interrupted my ramblings, “I di—“

My eyes widened in shock and my hand flew up to cover my mouth. “How did you know my name?”

He pointed his hand at my chest and I gasped, thinking he was reaching for my breast. As my fingers collided with my name tag, I glanced down spotting ‘Natasha’ spelled out in all capital letters on the plastic pin. Once again, a flaming sensation tickled my cheeks and I rubbed the back of my neck.

“I should probably introduce myself before we continue,” the tall man proceeded, his eyes twinkling down at me. “I’m Patrick.”

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out “I’m Natasha” and then realized that he already knew my name. Pushing the embarrassment to the far part of my mind, I stuck my hand out. Patrick glanced at it before filling the space between us with his hand. It engulfed my hand, swallowing it up with his colossuses and firm skin. His fingers brushed the back of my hand, gently coming in contact with the charm bracelet on my wrist, chills echoing down my back even through warmth emitted from his grasp.

I released his hand and my eyes flickered to the two vanilla candles in his left hand. As I leaned forward to relieve him of them, the strongest scent of cologne wafted into my nose and I had to remember to stop from biting my lip.

“I know this is going to sound really weird, but do you want to grab some coffee at the Starbucks next door?” I asked, looking up into Patrick’s eyes. When he didn’t directly answer, I felt the need to explain. “I mean, it’s late and I’m on shift for another two hours but no one ever comes in and I never have anything to do.”

Patrick laughed, a deep booming thundering in his chest that reverberated into mine. “I would love to. Let me just pay for my things and I’ll join you.” Just then I noticed that he was in the dental hygiene isle, standing in front of the toothbrushes. I pointed to the best brush that wouldn’t burn a hole in his wallet before heading off to find my manager.

I trekked down the sports section before spotting the blonde hair that belonged to Marie. As I approached her, she rolled her eyes, already anticipating what I was going to say. “Twenty minutes, no less,” she voiced, turning back to the chaotic state of the baseball gloves without a second glance at me. Giddily, I skipped away, my night turning out to be much better than I had originally thought it was going to be.

As I neared the Starbucks entrance that was located through the front wall of my store, I took off the yellow smock that bore the store’s logo, placing the soft fabric under the nearest cash register. I straightened my plain blouse and brushed off my jeans, suddenly wishing I had decided to dress up for once. Baring my teeth at the reflection of the register, I checked to make sure the sandwich I ate for dinner hadn’t made an appearance in my gums before finally following my nose to the coffee shop.

Susie, the only employee behind the counter glanced up at me as I entered the empty shop, giving me a tired smile. “Late night shift again?” she questioned, turning away to start on my usual drink.

“Make that two Caffé Mochas, please,” I voiced, my lips spreading into a smile. Butterflies beat at my stomach as I contemplated my luck for the night. “Someone is going to be joining me soon.”

Susie whipped her head around, giving me a sly smile that I associated with her desire for details. “Do tell,” she smirked, ready to gobble up whatever I had to say. She placed the bottle of what I guessed to be mocha flavor down and turned to face me.

I moved closer, leaning over the counter so I didn’t have to raise my voice. “His name is Patrick. I met him on the dental hygiene isle looking for toothbrushes. I’m pretty sure you couldn’t get teeth whiter than his.” Susie laughed and I giggled, feeling like a teenage girl again.

We heard footsteps approaching and Susie straightened up, announcing that my order was coming up. Her brown hair flipped as she turned her back on me and I tried not to glance at the gorgeous man behind me. I could already smell his sweet scent and he wasn’t even ten feet from me. I allowed myself to swoon for three seconds before composing myself and I spun around slowly as to not seem like I had been counting the distance between us.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I already ordered for you.” Patrick smiled at me with that thousand watt grin and I gripped the counter behind me, my knuckles matching in color. “Caffé Mocha, I get it every time.”

“Sounds good to me, I haven’t had anything other than plain black coffee in months,” he chuckled back to me. He guided me over to a small table at the window, sitting down after I chose a chair.

“Sorry about the whole candles and rambling thing. I get kind of nervous when old people follow me,” I apologized, glancing down at my folded hands.

Patrick laughed, leaning back in his chair, his large frame still looming over mine. “I thought it was kind of cute.”

“You’re pretty handsome as well,” I commented, the smell of coffee making me bolder. I stared right into his eyes as I said it, their bright color making me feel daring.

“The the most beautiful man in Chicago, thank you very much,” he playfully chided me. My eyes widened as I recalled the magazine cover and it dawned on me who the gorgeous man in front of me was.

“Patrick Sharp!” I called out, pointing a finger at him. “I knew you looked familiar; you play hockey here in Chicago.”

Patrick nodded, his brown hair swaying about on his head. As he was about to comment, Susie came over with our two drinks and placed them down in front of us, giving me a sly wink while Patrick was looking down. Snatching my drink, I shooed her away with my eyes, smiling when Patrick turned towards me.

“I guess whipped cream isn’t in your dietary program then,” I told him, giving him a wide smile. When he shook his head, I swooped in with a coffee stirrer and successfully swiped some of his whipped cream away. The white foam tickled my lips and I beamed as Patrick chuckled at my antics. I went in for a second scoop but he pulled the cup away from me before I could touch it.

“I can indulge a little,” he informed me, a childish smile on his face as he leaned forward to lick the cream. I stuck my hand out, tipping the bottom of the cup upwards , Patrick’s nose coming in contact with the white sugary substance. He pulled his head up sharply, the mocha in his cup sloshing down the sides.

I shrugged, “I had to, you set yourself up for that one.” With a mischievous smile on my lips, I took a sip of my own drink, watching as Patrick tried to wipe off the gooey cream from his nose. Sighing lightly, I snatched a napkin from between the salt and pepper shaker and proceeded to gently dab it to Patrick’s nose. “Alright, I’m sorry. Be more careful next time and maybe I won’t be tempted to take advantage of you.”

His eyes twinkled as he stared at me, “there’s going to be a next time?”

“If you don’t mind getting whipped cream on your face every once in a while,” I joyously offered him, setting the napkin down. “Maybe I’ll even throw in a free vanilla scented candle if we progress up from coffee.”

Patrick took out his cell phone, clicking away on the buttons. “How would next Thursday work for you? I’m back from Boston, then.”

Beaming at him, I nodded my head quickly. “Thursday sounds great. I’ll be look forward to it.”
Patrick raised his cell phone so it was parallel to my face, commanding me to smile. I tilted my head sideways and flashed him my own teeth, chuckling as he took the picture. We traded phones, allowing me to enter in “Natasha Hamilton” and my number while he added himself into mine.
“Natasha Hamilton,” Patrick read off. “It fits you.”

“Patrick Sharp,” I repeated, adding a few words after his name. “Whipped Cream King.”

Patrick’s laugh bellowed in the small shop, “I like the sound of that.”