Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“Yeah, yeah. But I didn’t mean it as one. I was serious. Is this your first time here?”
“No, I’ve been here once or twice,” I murmured, even as a feeling was growing in the back of my mind. There was a specific reason I didn’t come to Findlay Market, but I couldn’t remember what it was. It couldn’t be a lack of time. Lack of interest? I did very little cooking. I had a rotation of chefs who came in throughout the week to make meals for me. There was no need for me to do any kind of shopping for food.
Simon snagged my elbow and pulled me forward. “I will show you all the best shops. You’re going to love it. I know the most wonderful places for cheese, and this cute handmade soap shop.”
“Fine, but I can’t stay long. My assistant had to rearrange my schedule at the last minute so I could be here with you.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve got only a couple of hours myself before I need to return to Music Hall.”
“Speaking of work, how is the music writing going?” I inquired.
Simon’s slender shoulders slumped, and his hand tightened on my arm through my coat. “It’s fine.”
“Doesn’t sound fine. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s…I don’t know how other people do it, but for me, I need some kind of spark or inspiration that I’m following to get the notes. If there’s no spark, there are no notes. It’s not something I can force. When I try to do that, it all comes out as crap, and that makes me angry.”
“Which leaves you not in the mood to write anything.”
“Yes.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll figure it out. I always do. The music will come, and everyone will be happy.”
Except Simon didn’t sound happy at all. He sounded annoyed and frustrated. Yet there was no chance of pursuing it any further. He made a happy noise and jerked me toward a tiny cheese shop with white walls and a black-and-white checkered floor. Cheeses of all shapes and kinds filled the shelves on the walls. There were more cheeses on the tables in the center of the room and others in refrigerated areas.
“Simon! Long time no see,” a lovely Black woman greeted from behind the counter. Thick glasses obscured her eyes as she gazed from Simon to me.
“Hi, Tisha,” Simon called. “Sorry I haven’t been in for a while. Things got busy.”
She nodded with a broad smile. “Holidays. Keeps everyone running. Who’s your friend?”
“This is my boyfriend, Pierce,” Simon bragged.
Tisha leaned closer to the counter and tilted her head this way and that as if trying to get a better view of me through her glasses. “Ooooh, he’s a pretty one. Nice job.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tisha,” I said after receiving her seal of approval.
“Likewise. Any friend or boyfriend of Simon’s is welcome here. Since he began shopping at my little store, my sales have almost doubled.”
I jerked my head to Simon. “You’ve been buying that much cheese?”
“What? No!”
Tisha cleared her throat loudly, and Simon huffed.
“Okay, I have been buying a lot of cheese, but I have also told everyone I’ve met about this place. Nearly the entire orchestra is shopping here now.”
“Not to mention several of the local opera singers,” Tisha chimed in.
“She’s getting so much business from the Cincinnati arts community that she’s started offering discounts to people if they can prove that they work at the opera, symphony, pops, ballet, or any of the museums.”
“Not surprisingly, very few members of the ballet have taken me up on that offer,” Tisha muttered.
I chuckled and followed Simon through the shop as he pointed out his favorites. Within a few minutes, I discovered that my job had become holder of the cheeses as he picked out the small squares and wedges he wanted to purchase. When Tisha rang up his purchase, I grabbed my wallet before Simon could get his.
“I believe it’s my job as your boyfriend to purchase your cheese for you,” I teased.
He beamed up at me. “Not your job, per se, but it is very appreciated.”
From there, we wandered through several more shops, adding to the collection of paper bags for Simon’s purchases. There was cheese, a loaf of round crusty bread, a bottle of extra virgin olive oil straight from Greece, and some spices that smelled amazing.
“Have you used the blank music sheets that I got you for your birthday?” I asked as he paused outside one shop. Foot traffic at the market was picking up as more people stopped by to grab things they would need for dinner that evening.
Simon gazed up at me for a moment, his brow furrowed in obvious confusion. But before I could clarify what I meant, his eyes widened and his lips parted slightly.