Page 24 of Driving Beats

On the sidewalk, I stop. “There. Right there is your issue. You should treat clothes and shoes like a relationship. They have to be nurtured and handled with kindness.”

His sunglasses flip up to his head. “You may have nailed my problem.” He strides toward the door.

What on earth is he talking about? While I know he’s not seeing anyone—Bennett was the first band member to do so, followed by Río—none of the other band members have steady girlfriends. Still, he must have had a girlfriend at some point. He is in his thirties, for heaven’s sake. I follow him into the store.

I watch as he walks the perimeter. Every so often he picks up a pair of dressy shoes, then puts them down. Curiosity piqued—at his comment about women as much as his taste in shoes—I approach him.

“Hey. I saw you looking at a couple of pairs. What caught your eye?”

He points to one pair. “These are nice, but they seem too wide.”

Before he continues, I ask, “Coop, did you try them on? Looks can be deceiving. You really need to test them on your feet before disregarding them.”

He shrugs. “Do you think they look sharp?”

Perhaps he doesn’t trust his own fashion sense? “Tell me, what do you appreciate about them?”

He turns them around several times before answering. “I like the color. They have some detail here”—he points to the top of the shoe—“that’s sort of cool.”

“Great observations. You like their appearance, which is a good first step. Ha! Get it? Step? We’re looking for shoes.”

“Yes,” he says in a dry tone. “I get it.”

The man next to us, however, bursts out laughing. “That was funny!”

I turn to him. With a big smile, I say, “I’m glad someone here gets my humor.”

“Well, I appreciate you.” This guy seems to be in his mid-twenties, and damned attractive. He gives Coop a brief glance, then says, “I work around the corner from here at the jewelry store. I’d love to show you some pieces, if you have the time.”

“How enticing. Sapphires are my absolute favorite! Do you have any of them?”

“Sure do. Earrings, rings, pendants, you name it. I can offer you a good deal, as long as you promise to give me a jewelry joke.” He winks at me.

I scour my brain. “Oh, I got one. What do you call a necklace that’s always arguing with you?”

I wait. He gives me a shy smile.

I announce, “A pendant-ic.”

Over to the side, Coop stifles a chuckle. This guy, however, casts a questioning glance at me. I take pity on him. “Pedantic? Get it?” I laugh. He does too, but I can tell the joke flew over his head. Oh well.

Coop comes to my rescue, holding a different pair of shoes. “How about these? I think they might ward off anybody who’s too annoying or disapproving”—the textbook definition of pedantic—“Do you agree?”

I purse my lips to stop from laughing. At the very least, Coop got my bad jewelry pun. “Only if they’re on your feet.”

“Touché.” Coop turns to find a seat to try on this pair. Score one for me!

I turn to the jewelry guy. “Appreciate the offer. I’ll see if I can make it to your store.” I point my chin toward the shoes in his hands. “Those would look good on you, but only if you’re wearing black dress trousers and a button-down.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that.” He holds up the shoes. “Hope to see you soon.” With a brief kiss on my cheek, he disappears on his way to the checkout.

Returning to where Coop’s wearing both shoes, I ask him to stand and walk. He glances toward the guy from the jewelry store, now in line. “Are you sure you want to waste your time with me? I got two pairs of shoes, a new pair of jeans, and five shirts. More than enough.”

I place my hands on my hips. “Are you jealous? Of the jewelry store clerk?”

He stands next to me. “What? That’s what you got out of what I said?”

I smile. “Aww. I think it’s sweet. We engaged in some innocent flirting, nothing else, I promise. I won’t even go into his store.”