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3
October 9th 1992
The moment I stepped out of the Havemeyer Hall, the chilly air breached through my clothes. I was grateful for the coldness. It was the last thing stopping me from laying down on the stairs and taking a nap right there. Gino and Hugo dragged me to yet another club last night, the new Nucci location in downtown Manhattan. It was a sweet place to taste the pleasure this world had to offer – women, booze, and drugs – but not when you have to wake up at dawn the next day. It didn’t help that my last Civil Procedure course was longer than life and the professor was excruciatingly boring.
I had two hours to kill before Criminal Law 101 and about twenty pages of my assignment to go through before turning it in, and I wouldn’t be able to do without a kick of energy. Cocaine was out of the question, so coffee would have to do.
With that in mind, I started walking down the street to that small coffee shop at the corner of the campus that always looked too packed with students to be a comfy place. It was a place I never set foot before because, to be honest, it didn’t look great, and I had certain expectations when it came to coffee, but this time it was the convenient choice.
I walked inside the coffee joint and didn’t spare a second glance at anyone, just found a table, hanging my favorite Gucci scarf and tailor-made overcoat on one of the chairs before taking a seat and spreading my study materials.
I started reading, frowning at the paper trying to force the information in my head when I heard a female voice behind me.
“Welcome to Columbia Coffee.” Ingenious name for a coffee shop next to Columbia University. If I wasn’t distracted with my reading, I would have rolled my eyes. “What can I get you?”
“Espresso, double shot, but if your coffee comes from a pot, I don’t need it. I’ll be good with water.”
“Does your usual coffee come from a barrel or something?” The waitress served me a dose of sass I didn’t appreciate.
“If you don’t have an espresso machine…” I looked up and lost my trail of thinking. I was struck. “Wow.”
She was gorgeous. Trust me, I knew beautiful women. I had a handful of them last weekend, but this one was an exquisite beauty. Her face was perfect, her skin unblemished, and her lips were plumped, looking like they were longing for some biting. Her eyes were striking me with their clarity. Immediately I had about a hundred fantasies with her banging hot body naked on top of my sheets while I was tangling my hands in her long chestnut hair. At that moment I made a decision: I didn’t care who she was, I didn’t care what she did. She would be my woman.
“Thank you. Now do you want my coffee made in a pot?”
There was a lot of fire in her. I liked it.
“How about you share it with me?”
“Nice try, brown eyes. I’ll be right back with your order.”
She turned to walk to the counter and my paper was long forgotten. All I could look at where her narrow hips and round ass walking away from me. When she came back to bring me what I ordered, I was waiting with a practiced charming smile on my face.
“I’m sorry I was a dick, miss…”
“Salva.”
“Salva. Beautiful name.” I’ve never heard it before but it matched her pagan beauty. “I apologize. I was frustrated because of this paper.”
“Well, maybe you’re not Columbia material if you can’t take the pressure.”
What the fuck?
“Well, I was top of my class at Harvard. I think I’ll manage Columbia Law School.”
She gave me an all-knowing, unimpressed, slow nod.
“I should have guessed you’re a law student. You are all so cocky. Hey, umm, how are all those egos fitting in one classroom?”
“Salva, I already apologized. Please, take pity.”
“Fine, I won’t spit in your next coffee.” Her overly sweet smile was telling me that the chances for her to be joking were fifty-fifty. I was also halfway in love with her already.
“What time do you finish work?”
“That’s none of your business, brown eyes.”
“Oh, come on, I wanna take you out.”
