One More Day Read Online Free Page A

hospital gowns, bad news, and more appointments.  Yes, she had stage IIB cervical cancer.  No, there wasn't any way she could have prevented it.  Yes, she would need chemotherapy and radiation.  No, she wouldn't have surgery for a few months.  No, she would never be able to have children.  Yes, Monday would be a perfect time to start the treatments.  No, there wasn't anyone she wanted to have with her.
    That was the thought that hung in her mind as she made her way to the coffee shop on Thursday.  One pm, same time as always, and that's when Ryan said he wanted her to show up.  She pulled open the quaint door and walked in, letting her eyes adjust to the dim ambiance.
    "Hey, Mack," she heard from the corner.  He sounded actually pleased to see her.  "Wasn't sure if you'd really show up."  He pushed at a large paper cup on his table.
    Instead of braving the line, she just ducked through the crowd and pulled up the too tall chair across from him.  Ryan slipped a piece of paper between the pages and closed his book, pushing it to the side.  She couldn't help but notice that he had perfectly manicured nails.  His hands were flawless. 
    "Carmel macchiato, same as always," he said, glancing at the cup. 
    "Thanks.  I didn't expect you to buy."
    He shrugged, and that boyish smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.  "Think of it as my way of being a good boss?"
    "Bribing me with coffee?"
    "Oh hell yeah.  If you're that easy to bribe, I'll be happy."
    Mack smiled.  Yeah, maybe things weren't that bad.  She felt fine, except for the stupid fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach when he smiled like that, but anyone would feel like that sitting across from Ryan, right?  She glanced over at the book, surprised to see that the leather cover was plain, and what ever had once been on the spine had long since worn away.
    "Old book?" she asked.
    His hand instinctively touched it, and pushed it just a bit further to the side.  "Yeah.  Um.  It's kinda my hobby."
    "Thought you painted?"
    "That's more like my job."  He glanced up at her quickly, looking almost embarrassed.  "It's Lord Byron.  The copy was printed in the 1800s.  There's original lithographs, and crap."
    "As in, the poet?"
    She could barely believe what he was saying.  The man who appreciated art also read poetry for entertainment?  He was absolutely nothing like she'd expected.
    Ryan sighed and looked very intent on his coffee.  "Yeah.  I dunno, I just like how he can convey an entire image with a handful of words.  It's like drawing with language.  So, you still wanting that job?"
    "Yep," Mack agreed, hoping she didn't sound too chipper.  "Believe it or not, it's the best offer I've had all year."
    "Well, let's go next door, and I'll show you the shop."
    He slipped down from the chair and tucked the book under his arm before grabbing his cup of coffee, waiting for her.  Falling in beside him, she wove through the mass of people and into the sharp daylight outside.  It was entirely possible that she looked at how his jeans molded to the shape of his ass, but since no one saw, she didn't think she needed to dwell on that.
    Ryan dug in his pocket, pulled out a set of keys, and unlocked the door, holding it open for her.  He followed her through, then turned the knob, locking it behind them, gesturing toward the same hall he'd led her up the night before.
    "The office is the first door," he said, moving past her.  "Kinda cheating to get to know you like this.  Although, I don't think the government asks what your favorite color is, yet."
    She'd expected him to be arrogant, self centered, or at least overly confident.  Instead, he damned near blushed when he admitted that he liked poetry, but hadn't flinched away from the question.  He seemed almost shy but not ashamed of who he was.  It fit him, and unfortunately made him just that much more attractive.  His awkward humor made her giggle under her breath.
    "Yellow.  Well, highlighter