Chapter 1

My first impression was that the whole little town looked more like the set of an old film than a real town. Only by looking at the details, and by seeing all the new advertisements, could you tell that anything was real and happening in the present. Then there were the people. They were all real, nice, down-to-earth people whose only major flaw seemed to be the urge to gossip. On the other hand, you could understand that, since nothing - absolutely nothing - seemed to happen there. That was about all I could notice during the first two months in my new job, since my predecessor had left a mess behind when he had decided to disappear. Considering the depth of the mess and the amount of money missing, I wasn’t really surprised.

I occupied a small apartment above the bank I was administering. This small bank had come close to bankruptcy, and it would probably have been closed unless a non-profit trust foundation had decided that the people in this town should still have a bank of their own. I had been been charged with making the bank profitable again for the trust that owned it. Given my non-existent experience, this was a ‘make or break’ opportunity. I’d taken on this work as an opportunity to prove myself. If I succeeded, my reputation was made. If I failed, well...

During the first two months, I worked more hours than I rested. My only breaks, besides a few hours of sleep, were the ones I spent eating my lunch in the diner across the street. The diner was run by a woman in her forties, and she had two waitresses helping her during the day.

Even though my mind was mostly occupied by the problems of the bank, I couldn’t help noticing that the two waitresses were like day and night. The blond was a slightly curvy, an extrovert. She flirted with me like there were no tomorrow. Even though I had neither the time nor the energy to really respond to her, I had to admit that it soothed my ego. On the other hand, she reminded me of my girlfriends during my wild times at high school and college ... and I’m single. The other waitress was a dark-haired little fairy: smallish, slim, and shy ... very shy. It took some time for her not to run away if I smiled at her when she came to serve me.

After a few months, I knew better. Things did actually happen in our little town, but there was no way of knowing about them if you weren’t one of the locals; with only a few months under my belt as a manager of this small bank, I clearly wasn’t. However, those few months had been enough for me to spot the problems that had caused us to come close to bankruptcy. Cleaning up the worst of the mess my predecessor had left behind had taken me almost two months of continuous work. The damage caused by his actions had insured that the best we could expect from next year would be a very small black number on the bottom line. This year was already a loss. Luckily, the trust that had purchased this small bank wasn’t looking for quick bucks. It was enough for them if it would be profitable in the near future.

Right now, I wasn’t worrying about the business. For the last week, I’d been recuperating from the workload of the first few months. I had been working long hours, and now I felt that a few shorter days wouldn’t really hurt. More importantly, it wouldn’t hurt the business, at all, and it would be good for me.

I had been looking out of the window for a moment before turning back to ‘my Mrs. Bonner’, the oldest, darkest, and largest of the three people working for me. Before I could form a question, she just rolled her dark brown eyes and turned to me.

“Mr. Hart, you should eat your lunch, instead of just standing there.”

“Mrs. Bonner, it’s William or Bill, please.”

“As you wish, Mr. Hart, as you wish.”

I shook my head. The two other clerks just suppressed their giggles when I sighed. I tried to look desperate, but I guess I didn’t fool any of the ladies. To tell the truth, Mrs. Bonner had been irreplaceable during the last few months. She knew almost everything about everybody, which helped a lot when we combed through the client list of our small bank. On the other hand, she seemed impressed when, instead of maximum profit, I started looking for workable solutions with those clients who had serious problems. Squeezing our clients might have helped us back into the black a bit sooner, but it certainly would have hurt our business in the long run. Still, even with her help, we couldn’t find any trace of the money that had disappeared. The previous manager had taken his secrets with him.

During the second month of our co-operation, I asked her if she could start calling me William - or even Bill - but she just refused.

“Mr. Hart, you’re my boss, and the manager of this bank. There is no way I would start using your first name.”

Luckily, I could see the smile in her eyes. After that, I kept on asking that she call me by my first name, and she always refused. I don’t know if Mrs. Bonner spoke to the other two women working in the bank, or they just saw through our act, but after that, my status was cemented as ‘Mr. Hart’, the manager, at the ripe old age of twenty-four. It did not mean that I was comfortable with it, but Mrs. Bonner made sure that such small issues did not matter. When I mentioned that one evening to her husband (a huge black man in his early forties, who ran the best car repair shop in town), he just laughed at me.

“Son, just be happy she addresses you with such respect. If that happens to me a few times a year, I’m happy.”

From the looks Mrs. and Mr. Bonner exchanged with each other, I could tell that they were still deeply in love, and the respect they felt for each other was clearly mutual. I had also seen their three daughters, who all were scary smart. I could tell that once they decided to go after some young men, those poor guys wouldn’t stand a chance. On the other hand, with the looks the girls had, their ‘victims’ would probably not mind at all. Had I been eight years younger, I wouldn’t have!

I shrugged myself out of my trance, during which I had again been looking out of the window, not really seeing anything. Being a manager of a small bank wasn’t something you could consider a glamorous job for someone who had graduated from a good, expensive private college. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity for someone who had messed up his life, burned all his bridges behind him, and barely graduated from said college. I finally smiled at Mrs. Bonner.

“Have I ever dared to act against your recommendations, Mrs. Bonner?”

She grunted an answer and gave an icy stare at the two other clerks, who were now giggling openly. I knew that all the women were best friends outside work, and what I was seeing was just some friendly jesting.

From the corner of my eye I saw some movement by the door of the diner across the street. What I saw caused me to make up my mind, and I informed my ladies that I’d take my break now and wouldn’t be back until they had enough time for the latest gossip. Maybe their response wouldn’t have made a sailor blush, but I blushed before I was out the door. I guess the professional respect they had for me did not extend to my private life.

While finding my way across the main street to the diner, I thought a bit about Mrs. Bonner and her mission. For the first two months I had been safe, because I had been extremely busy. Now that I had some time available, she was on a mission to get me paired - and preferably, married. She had now started to press me to visit the church on Sundays, as it would be the perfect place to meet some nice women - women suitable for dating a bank manager. I sighed deeply, since the church activities were certainly not the place where I’d found my previous girlfriends. On the other hand, I was still single.

When I entered the diner, I could easily see that the lunch rush was mostly over, and most of the customers were finishing their lunch or having their coffee-afters. In fact I had to admit that I was waiting for the coffee more than I waited for the lunch itself. The lunch they offered here was something that made me sure that I needed to run an extra half a mile every morning or spend extra half-an-hour at the gym if I wanted to maintain the figure I had. But the coffee! The coffee they had was roasted dark and it was thick and black without being bitter. Were the diner not here, I would have bought my own coffee machine for the office.

During the rush hour, the diner had both waitresses delivering the food and picking up the orders, but now, there was only one of them left. In fact, I had seen the blond one leave the diner before I decided to have my lunch. She was the one who was the extrovert of those two, and during the last two weeks even I had become well aware that she would be interested in getting to know me better - probably much better. Nancy - the extrovert waitress - was a bit over twenty, which made her just a bit younger than me. She had a slim, nicely curved five foot six frame with enough curves in all the right places. All that combined with a pretty face and nice smile framed by blond hair. She was a perfect example of the girls I had been dating in college. Maybe that was why I was here, now.

I greeted practically everybody inside the diner before picking an empty table at the back of the room. It did not take long before the night version of the waitresses approached me. She couldn’t be more than five foot one, with dark brown, almost black hair. She was small all over with just enough curves that you could guess that she was a female of the species. Of course if you looked at her face there was no doubt about that, since absolutely no male could have such an angelic face and those pouty lips. Yet the most intriguing feature of hers were her blue eyes. The look in her eyes was often a look you could expect to see in the eyes of a terrified, young rabbit, but sometimes you could see past that. Those flashes were the ones I was waiting for. Her general look was something almost ethereal, fairy-like.

I smiled very carefully when she came to take my order. Then I looked into those dark blue eyes.

“Hi, Caryn, I’d take today’s special for lunch, and afterwards I’d like a big mug of that wonderful coffee of yours.”

She had stopped when I smiled, but for once she did meet my gaze. I did my best to look like a lost puppy. It had worked before.

“Thank you, Mr. Hart.”

I sighed in mock dismay.

“Please, Caryn, couldn’t at lest you call me William - or Bill? None of the ladies in the bank will agree to do that. Besides, I’m only a few years older than you. Always being called Mr. Hart makes me feel middle-aged. I have nothing against older people, but I’d not like to consider myself one of them ... not yet, anyway!”

When I said that to her I did my best imitation of the ‘lost puppy’ face I had practiced during my college years, while keeping my gaze focused on those dark blue eyes all the time. The first thing I saw in those eyes was the look of that scared, young rabbit, but that was soon replaced by wonder and finally even the smallest amount of ... mirth, maybe. I sighed internally in relief. At least she did not run away. She replied, looking all too serious for my taste.

“Mr. Hart, our boss Ms. Hawley wants us to be respectful to all customers, and I cannot really make an exception unless you really clear it with her first.”

I doubled my mock dismay sigh.

“Oh, no, Caryn! You cannot ask me that! I’ve seen Mrs. Hawley often enough to fear her almost as much as I fear Mrs. Bonner.”

I made sure to be loud enough for the people next to us to hear, and some older men close to us burst out laughing. Caryn opened her mouth and closed it without saying a thing, but just blushed instead. Then she rushed towards the kitchen. I could soon see the fearsome Ms. Hawley had followed her there.

It was Ms. Hawley who brought me my lunch, and once she placed my plate in front of me she turned to me. “It wasn’t at all nice to tease Miss Collins - I mean Caryn - like you did.”

I pulled back a bit and looked at her straight in the eyes.

“Ms. Hawley, I certainly did not want to distress her. I only looked for a chance to get to know her a bit better. But maybe I’ll need to face my fears, and try to see her after church, next Sunday.”

Her eyes flashed, and a hint of a smile formed at the corners of Ms. Hawley’s mouth. I was sure that I had guessed correctly, and she was well aware of Mrs. Bonner’s attempts to get me paired off. She just nodded to me and left me to my lunch.

I kept on thinking while filling my stomach with something that would probably make some health freaks scream in agony, since it for sure contained real cream and butter, instead of something artificially produced in chemical factories. Even with the sensations inside my mouth trying to stop everything related to serious thinking, I managed to wonder about the step I had just taken. On the other hand, I had a feeling that I needed to do something. It was about time to be more pro-active with my life. But still, I couldn’t help wondering if I were doing the right thing. My history wasn’t really glorifying on that scene.

I was still deep in my thoughts when I noticed someone standing next to me. I lifted my gaze from my empty plate and noticed Caryn standing next to me with a big mug of steaming hot coffee on the tray she was holding. I carefully smiled at her.

“Thank you, Miss Collins. I hope that I’ll see you after church next Sunday. After that, I hope that we can agree it will be okay to address each other on a first name basis.”

She did not run away, but blushed instead. I hoped that I could call it progress. Most importantly, there were no flashes of that scared rabbit behind those eyes this time. I probably had a hint of a smile on my face all the time I nursed the strong black coffee. A few times I searched for Caryn and our glances met twice. I could see that she blushed a bit both times, but at least she did not run away screaming. That was indeed some progress.

The following day, the ‘cat was out of the bag.’ It seemed that there hadn’t been anything else interesting happening, so the rumor mill had concentrated on the fact that I’d shown some interest regarding Miss Collins: Caryn. I could see the disappointment in Leann’s eyes - the blond waitress - when I got my coffee from the deli the following afternoon. To me, her disappointment was nothing compared to the chewing Mrs. Bonner had given me ... for acting behind her back! I smiled at her and promised to talk with her next week after church on Sunday.

I occasionally saw Caryn during the week and each time I spoke to her, I referred to her as ‘Miss Collins’. At one point I even managed to get a small - very small - giggle out of her, but after that, she looked almost afraid of what had happened.