Tuesday
AMANDA COULDN’T HELP herself. She spent all day and late into the night Monday thinking about the barista at the coffee shop. She didn’t even know her name. She had to see her again.
She put on her favorite blue skirt suit, checked her hair one last time then picked up her briefcase and headed out the door.
She felt unsure, as she walked, about turning up at the cafe in a suit and tennis shoes. The thing that she loved most about her job, if there was anything to love at all, was that she could live in a cool, even slightly funky neighborhood in walking distance to it. Now the perk made her feel self-conscious as she looked down at her shoes again.
As she stood and waited to cross at a light near the cafe, she debated whether to go in or just continue on by as she had every oth
