Uncommon Ground by Erica Abbott & Pol Robinson

Author:Erica Abbott & Pol Robinson [Abbott, Erica and Pol Robinson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781642471168
Publisher: Bella Books
Published: 2020-09-01T22:00:00+00:00

* * *

Sara pulled open the glass doors of the high-end coffee shop and pulled off her sunglasses. She frowned as she approached the huge sleekly curved bar. There was no menu in sight. While she was normally not a shy person, the curved chrome and wood edifice was intimidating, as was the very hip-looking young man behind the bar, right down to the perfectly sculpted curl of hair that fell gracefully over one eye.

“Hi, first time here?”

“Yes. I’m meeting someone, but she’s running a bit late.”

“Welcome. We’ve got some free samples, and here’s the menu if you would like to take some time. I’m here when you have questions or are ready to order.”

Sara took the menu and scanned the room. The room’s subtle lighting was enhanced by the huge half-circle mullioned windows that filled the wall adjacent to the bar. Light spilled over the wood floors, warming them to a light chocolate. The wall opposite the bar was lined with comfortably worn leather chairs and couches framing a large fireplace. Small wood tables were scattered throughout, some with old books on them, others with board games or a puzzle. Walls covered in artfully arranged “distressed” wood provided a nice contrast to the old brick that framed the large windows, giving the place that pub-like feel with an upscale flare. The scents of wood, coffee, tea, and lovely baked goods added the final touch. Sara immediately relaxed. Despite the overpowering bar that fairly screamed “overproduced and trendy” when you first came in, the rest of the place simply said, “relax and have a seat.” It was an interesting juxtaposition.

Settling into the corner of the large L-shaped brown leather couch, Sara set the menu aside, deciding she would wait for Margaret. This was, after all, Margaret’s choice, so she might have some recommendations. She rested her arm on the back of the couch and set her chin on her arm, content to watch the people scurrying in and out of Pike Place Market.

Tourists were the easiest to spot—backpacks, cameras, and umbrellas. No Washington native ever carried an umbrella; it was nearly a point of pride. Locals could also be spotted wearing the business attire of the Pacific Northwest. For men it was tan slacks, fitted, a button-down shirt with a wide plaid, and a navy jacket or blazer held in place by a cross-body messenger bag of canvas or leather. For women it was long-legged black or blue trousers, a loose-fitting stylish white or tan tee covered by a mid-thigh length sweater or coat, and an oversized shoulder bag.

It was funny, she thought, as she counted yet another man striding by in his brown loafers and the uniform of the day. For a city that prided itself on its individual, independent spirit, nearly everyone wore the same thing.

Sara glanced down at her own worn blue jeans, sneaker-clad feet, and soft cotton button-down and shrugged. She seemed to be bucking the norm, but she was used to that. She looked up

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