I set the mood like I did the night before: candles and music and fluffy pillows. I add a plate of the fresh baked cookies to my nightstand. I told PeterC I was a baker, and for some reason I think it is important that he believe me.
It’s 6:55 and I decide to log in. I want to be ready when Peter joins the show. Three minutes later I get a message that PeterC is entering the virtual room where our interaction will take place. I take a deep breath, bracing myself for any one of the infinite possibilities that may pop up on my screen, when suddenly, Apollo hops into my lap. Oh no! My sexy gypsy girl look has just turned into witch-getting-ready-to-cast-a-spell look.
“No Apollo, down, down!” I shriek in a panic. “Oh my god!”
My cat turns to shoot me a disdainful look over his shoulder and meows. I’m still trying to push him off my lap when a deep voice interrupts.
“Who’s your friend?”
Oh shit. I finally manage to shove Apollo off, and he hisses at me before stalking away. Then I push my hair back and smile at the computer, trying to look composed. But it’s hopeless because my jaw drops when I see PeterC. Is this the man I’ve been communicating with?
My cheeks flush and all oxygen leaves my lungs because the man on the screen is gorgeous. I’m utterly stunned. This is no nerdy IT guy with a pocket protector and thinning hair. The man before me has waves of jet black locks and ocean blue eyes. Not only that, but his eyes are twinkling at me now, as I try to find words that just aren’t coming.
“Cat got your tongue?” he asks, chuckling at his own joke.
His laugh is melodic, and a deep baritone. I snap out of my stupor.
“This is Apollo,” I say ruefully, grabbing my cat and holding him up so he’s in full view of the camera. I feel silly introducing the purring feline, but at the same time, I feel lucky too. Apollo’s antics have led me to PeterC, and this man is beyond my wildest dreams. Meanwhile, Peter grins at Apollo and then laughs.
“No way! Hold on,” he says before disappearing from the screen. His camera is still on and I check out the view of the room he is in. It appears to be a home office of some sort. It’s roomy, so maybe some place suburban. There are a few books on a shelf, too far away for me to read the titles. His desk chair looks like it’s soft, expensive leather. I wonder what city PeterC is in. He could be anywhere in the country, or even the world, come to think of it.
Pete comes back into view carrying an adorable black cat that looks a lot like Apollo, but smaller.
“This is Demeter, or Demi for short,” he says introducing his pet.
This private show has taken such a strange turn but it’s making me feel at ease. Pete has a cat. He has to be normal, right?
Pete winks at me, and my heart stutters a bit.
“Isn’t it a weird coincidence that we both have black cats named after ancient Greek deities?” he asks.
I giggle.
“It certainly is. I named Apollo after the sun god because I’ve always been fascinated with Greek mythology and my mom has always called me Sunshine. How did Demi get her name?”
He shoots me a wry smile.
“As I’m sure you know Demeter is the Greek goddess of the harvest, which is good luck in my business because actually, we have another thing in common. I work in food service too. But Demi came into my life when things started to go really well in my business, so I give her credit for my harvest.”
“I love that story. Are you also out of work because of coronavirus restrictions?”
He shakes his head and I marvel at the perfection of his bone structure. He has a high, proud brow; a strong nose; and a square chin with just a tiny cleft in it. Inside, I’m drooling.
“No,” he smiles. “My restaurants have always done a significant amount of carry out, so we’re okay, at least for now. We’re an established name with a wide consumer base, so things are holding steady.”
It hasn’t escaped me that he used the word ‘locations’, as in more than one location. How many does he have? But Peter doesn’t tell me the name of his restaurants and I don’t push because it seems like it would be rude. He is the customer after all, and I shouldn’t forget my place. Instead, I smile.
“I wish I had the customer base to be able to do that. I’m just too new, what with starting my bake shop just last year. I used my contacts in the industry to create a steady income supplying desserts for restaurants, but now, nearly all of them have had to close, so we’re left with bupkis.”