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| Screen shot of Writing Boot Camp from Writer's Digets |
The door of the cafe swung open, the little gold bell at the top of the doorway chiming with over exuberance. Audrey stirred her coffee, engrossed in the book she was holding. The new pair of feet scrubbed themselves against the mat in an attempt to dislodge some of the rain. They pattered towards the cash register, squeaking as they went, then faltered. They turned, the heel complaining, the footsteps growing louder. A figure entered her view, the brown trench coat pressing against the edge of the table. She pointedly ignored them, hoping the person would see her disinterest and disappear.
"Audrey? Is that you?"
Shit.
Audrey lay the book down, tilting her head down and her gaze upwards to look over the pair of red reading glasses.
Double shit.
Her body tensed as she removed her glasses and looked up the man standing before her. His dark curls were just as she remembered them, his lips in a playful smirk that made the memories of where those lips had been raise the hair on her arms and send warm shivers down her spin.
"Gary?" The smile took over her lips before she could think otherwise, and the giddy feeling washed through her like a warm and pungent shot of whiskey.
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