Looking from the student papers that I was grading to the front door of the coffee shop, I saw him, and looked quickly back to the papers, feeling a rush of excitement when he passed by my booth to the restrooms.

Grading the work of my seventh grade class each morning at the coffee shop, became a regular routine. I had first visited the coffee shop six weeks prior, to catch up on my paperwork. It was on that day that I first saw him.

Dress pants, shirt and tie, he sat at the counter, taking documents from a briefcase, going over them, sipping his morning coffee. Incredible, I thought, stealing quick glances. Look at him. He doesn't wear a ring, but a man like him surely has a wife or a girlfriend. But, maybe not.

Staying for only thirty, forty minutes each morning, he rarely spoke to anyone, giving a smiling nod to regulars who came in every morning. I'm an average looking woman I suppose, but far from being homely and saw no reason why he wouldn't be interested. But after six weeks, he never once glanced in my direction.

It was early Saturday morning when I awoke. Not being able to go back to sleep, I stared at the digital clock, reading 7:15, remembering I was out of coffee. I got out of bed, pulled on a pair of shorts, shirt, sandals, brushed my hair and headed for the coffee shop.

I'd never gone to the coffee shop on a weekend before and was only going to get a large coffee to go when I pulled up to the front of the shop, seeing him sitting at the counter in a tee shirt and jeans.

Glancing at myself in the rear-view mirror, I left my car, entered the shop and boldly sat beside him. Why not? I would never find out if he might be interested in me unless I made the first move.

"Good morning," I said, putting my purse on the counter, telling the waitress I'd have coffee. "I've seen you here during the week, but I usually don't come here on the weekends."

"I've seen you too," he said, turning to me with a smile. "You usually sit in one of the booths with your head buried in paperwork."

"I'm a school teacher." My God, he was even more handsome up close. "I like to grade the student papers in the morning when my mind is . . . um . . ."

I lost my train of thought, looking at him, looking at me, and suddenly felt mortified, seeing flattered amusement spread quickly across his face, but for the life of me, I couldn't think. My mind went totally blank.

"I'm Samuel," he said, turning in his seat toward me with that same flattered

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