I was very fortunate to have a job that I usually didn't hate making enough money for everything that I needed. It wasn't the life I had planned out for me when I was a young girl, but neither was my ambition of being a professional old lady and selling my crochet goods. But I would get there eventually. All I had to do was keep working at building up a brand for myself and keeping the lights on and food in my belly in the meantime.

Another evening at the Lakeside Daisy was in store for me to get me closer to that rocking chair dream of mine, and a gentle, peaceful piano melody filled the autumn air that was getting crisper by the day. Although most of our seating was indoors, there was something about fall that permeated through walls and all senses of space. Maybe it was the basic white girl in me, but September into October was the true most wonderful time of the year, and Lake Erie was a great place to spend such days.

I went over my introduction spiel with a variety of people, and even though I would have much rather been in the peace and quiet of home working on my crafts, it was peaceful at work every once in a while. It must have been someone new at the piano instead of the usual guy, who always had a knack for staccato notes that were more jarring than relaxing.

Besides, it wasn't like home was that peaceful either. Blake and Alex always had something to argue about. I really didn't understand how they became good enough friends in college to be roommates afterward.

There were a lot of things that I didn't understand, really.

But as my shift continued on, it was nice to make a little money as I listened to whoever was on the keys that day. The piano was up on a slightly raised platform that barely counted as a stage, and as I looked up as I walked by, the person playing the music caught my eye like a bright red sailboat on Lake Erie.

Mason?

"It's him," I whispered to myself, and with the piano in the background, no one would be able to hear my thoughts that snuck out of my mind and into the universe. "I'm so confused right now."

When I met him, he was dressed the part of a woodworking teacher or someone who had just gotten done cleaning out their shed in the middle of the woods where they lived their off-grid life. He looked like anything but a classy pianist. But up on the little stage set with mums and other golden flowers, Mason was sitting at the piano, and even though I didn't actually have to know everything that happened at the Lakeside Daisy, I probably should have known that we were getting a new musician.

I blinked a couple times. That was the same man who told me that he didn't believe in Instagram? And during our conversations, the one in person and several over text, he just somehow forgot to mention that he was going to be playing the piano in the exact same winery where I worked?

The music was like fresh spring rain, and even though I was a pumpkin spice season kind of girl, I didn't mind.

"Hey," a customer said as he snapped his fingers at me, which barely snapped me back into reality. "Are you going to do your job instead of staring at the piano man?" He chuckled to himself, but Mason was no Billy Joel.

"Yeah, yeah. Just give me a second," I said. Either he was a brilliant mind reader who knew exactly how to catch my ear and eye, or he was pure magnetism, and I was just lucky enough to be within that pull. "Isn't that piano just the most gorgeous thing you've ever heard?"

"No, and you can forget about a tip at this point," he said.

I held in an annoyed sigh. Couldn't he just stop and smell the roses for one minute? It seemed like being in a rush to get everything in a ridiculously quick fashion would be an upsetting and boring way to live, but what did I know?

"Let me get that wine for you, sir," I said and as I walked away, I whispered a quick "asshole" that the customer wouldn't hear to make me feel a little better.

I took a quick look around to see if we looked busy enough that I could take the long way to get the table's drinks, but if the man was serious, I had already lost out on the tip anyway, so what did it matter? Maybe I was easily distracted, but I could guarantee that I enjoyed life more than Grumpy McGee.

The obligatory mirror check as an option was out the window, since he was done with his shift playing music by the middle of my shift the last time I saw him in person. I was no idiot, and looking good got better tips, so I probably looked okay enough to strike up a conversation when he was done with his set.

But as I walked past him, I smiled. He smiled back, but it wasn't aimed directly at me, so maybe he was just really happy to see the piano. This time, I smiled to myself. I could be pretty funny when I wanted to be.

He certainly had life figured out if he was who I thought he was: a sailboat-owning lumberjack pianist. And that certainly wasn't the picture I had of him in my mind when he first mistook me for Ashley.

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Hello everyone, and thank you so much for reading! It's been a little crazy at work for me, which is why the update is a little on the later side, so I appreciate your patience! Part 2 will be out soon!

So for today's question, if you could only wear one type of shoes for the rest of your life, what would they be?

I would pick tennis shoes (or sneakers, or gym shoes, depending on where you live). I have horribly ugly feet where my toes are cramped together and also need a ton of room, so it would be the only option for me really, even though I do love a good pair of boots (in small doses). Growing up playing sports will do that to your feet though. At least I had fun.