Some Things are Worth a Wait
I dropped my watch the other day, breaking the glass, so I looked up a jeweler this morning and wandered in.
This time, Rio found me.
“Are you following me?” he asked, almost laughing at the absurdity of it all. I turned at the sound of his voice and found him leaning comfortably across the counter. “You know, I could have given you my number and saved you the trouble.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“No, no you don’t, actually.” he said, his eyes glittering as he straightened and looked me up and down. With a faint smile, he brushed a speck of dust from his shirt, running his slender fingertips against the tiny antiqued-gold nametag pinned there. “I’m Rio. How may I help you?” His voice dropped, just slightly, as he tilted his head, looking at me as if he meant something more than jewelry. “What do you need?”
When I think back and wonder when I began to fall for Rio, I come back to this moment, to the way he looked at me, the way I saw myself reflected back in his eyes. It was the almost-lilt in his voice that caught me, the beautiful, casual weight of that question. “What do you need?” A small, happy noise forced itself out, deep in my chest. I handed him my watch without a word.
For a moment he considered it, holding it to his ear to hear it tick. “It’s just a broken crystal,” he said. “Call it… twenty-five, probably.”
I nodded, licking my lips. The seams of his pants were sewn with soft pink thread, highlighting his long legs and the gentle sway of his hips, and my mouth went dry as I watched him walk to the workbench in the back of the store. “Twenty-five. Right. Okay.”
“I think… ow!” he cut his finger on a stray fragment of crystal. “Uff. Yeah, I don’t have this size…” he gave his fingertip a slow, thoughtful suck as he set the watch on his table. “I think I need to grind one to fit… can you come back in an hour or so?”
“Sure. Yeah, I can do that.” His tongue was very pink, bright against his lightly tanned skin. I tried not to think too much about it as I turned to leave. Behind another counter, a very small, beautiful woman, dark and elegant in her inky-blue dress, gave me a wicked, knowing smile.
The little bell over the door tinkled as I returned, and I found her sitting astride Rio’s lap, her arms around his shoulders as she watched him work. He held a tiny blowtorch between his fingers, peering at something through dark goggles as he kissed it gently with the flame. “Your friend is back,” she murmured.
“I should take care of him, then,” he said, switching off the torch. “Shoo.” He slid her gently off his lap and swatted her affectionately across the rear. “Cute little pest.”
She smoothed out her dress with cheerful indignation, turning to make a face at him over her shoulder. I tried not to stare at the enchantingly simple, trim audacity of the movement. She glanced from me, to Rio, then back again, and leaned over, whispering into his ear with an evil little smile.
Rio pushed his goggles up onto his forehead, canting his head to the side as he listened to her. “I’ll think about it, yes?” He looked up at me, accepting my payment, and fastened my watch around my wrist, gentle and secure. “Jacqueline likes to tease. You’ll have to excuse her. She’s half French, and she’s inheirited some of their…” For an instant his grip tightened, his fingers and the band reminding me of nothing so much as a soft leather cuff and the insistence of its chain. “…perfect centuries of coquetry.” He seemed to savor the phrase.
I must have given him a strange look, because after a moment he shook his head sadly, as if I’d missed something important.
His voice went flat, almost formal. “I’m so sorry for the delay.”
I looked down at my watch, tracing my fingers along the crystal’s edge, feeling the perfect fit as I wondered what I’d done. “Some things are worth a wait.”
“Yes,” he said, his bright blue eyes looking through me as he paused to think about it. “The hard part is deciding which ones they are.”
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