Falling for My Ex Next Door: A Best Friend's Brother Second Chance Romance

Chapter Seven

The inconstant rain seemed to have finally ceased. The season then took its natural form. The sky began to clear up, and a lazy sun would dangle over the horizon more often than not. The air felt lighter, and the heaviness of the rain lifted.

There was this sense of freshness in the air, and you could just relax and forget about every other existence. And as the dark clouds finally rolled away, the earth appeared brighter and brighter.

I reclined on the sofa after purchasing the other things on my list. It was a matter of time before I began to run the coffee shop again.

Lucky for me, the repairs were things I could handle on my own, though I thought about asking Old Napoleon for help. I was sure he would be more than happy to assist me.

Even after a week, my encounter with Jacob in my house still had me on edge. I decided it wasn’t fair on me, seeing how unaffectedly Jacob navigated through his daily routine. After that day, we had seen each other the following morning, and I reluctantly responded to his cheerful greeting. He was on his way to work and offered to give me a lift as his company was located in the same direction.

I refused at first, but then he persisted, saying I would not mind him giving me a lift if I saw him as a friendly neighbor and nothing else. Eventually, I received his offer of help, and he dropped me off in front of the coffee shop.

The place was already as good as new with the nice replacement of almost everything in the interior.

Wary of peculiar eyes, I shut the door behind me. Old Napoleon visited soon after.

“It seems you’ve been making friends.” He let out his usual elderly laugh.

“Yeah, I think.” I knew he was most probably referring to Jacob.

“That’s good to know. Madeline would be proud to see you are doing very well, and with the shop, you are really making progress already.” He commented, looking around.

“It’s all thanks to your support.”

One thing I hoped for was good sales to compensate for all of my efforts. The coffee shop opened for business and on the first and second days, I had only two to five customers to attend to. It was encouraging to an extent, though I wanted more.

“No, I will not take credit for anything. I have only done right by Madeline, and I shall continue.” He said, humbly.

“Thank you.”

“Well, it’s my pleasure,” he grinned.

“What can I get you?” I asked.

“Latte will be the best for this morning,” he responded.

On the fourth day after the coffee shop officially opened for business, I met two new faces in the neighborhood; Tina and her mother, Nora. They were lovely people and were easily excited. It was fun, especially talking to Tina. She was sixteen years old with a clever mind. Her eyes always sparkled with warmth, and her smile was always broad and inviting.

I found the atmosphere around both mother and daughter relaxing and full of laughter. Then, I instantly decided keeping them around would be very healthy.

Sometimes, Tina lent me a helping hand with carrying out the shop’s affairs, and we even grew closer since I felt a sense of belonging whenever I was with her. Her mother, Nora, had known my aunt Madeline, which made it all easier.

Aunt Madeline, Nora confessed, taught her more than makeup, and, being a girly girl, she taught her how to be responsible and reliable. More and more, I found myself swinging at my Aunt Madeline’s worthwhile life. Only those who knew and were close to her could testify.

Saturday came with much contentment, and it had begun to look like what I had always wanted was no longer far-fetched.

Sales had boosted, and it had become far easier to prepare coffee to customer satisfaction than in the first few days. I could only commend my tenacity for that; I never stopped practicing and taking courses over and over again.

Funny how the men wouldn’t stop praising me to the skies and the women cheering me on. I was happy.

I had called my mom and told her. Hearing her say she was truly happy that I was happy gave me even more joy. I never thought I could want anything more. I told her Jacob was duly minding his own business and wouldn’t trespass or do anything funny. It relieved her to hear that.

A child with ribbons in her blonde hair cycled over and parked her bike in front of the shop as a customer made his way out. Then she walked in.

“Hello,” she beamed a smile. She was adorable.

“Hello.” I smiled in return.

“I want to get a hot chocolate.” She said.

“Very well, give me a minute.” I said before going to get it for her, by the time I returned there was a woman beside her who beamed at me with a soft smile.

I could immediately tell it was her mother, “I have told you to slow down a bit when you are on that bike, honey,” she chided

I watched the scene between the both of them trying to stifle a giggle as I remembered a couple of times when my mom had asked me to do something and I did the opposite.

The door opened again, and the one who opened it caught my attention. He was all suited up and had dark glasses on. He walked with a magnificent gait and gave off a cryptic vibe.

“How may I help you?” His appearance baffled me.

“Good day.” His voice was gruff.

He extended his hand for a handshake before I could respond to his greeting. I warmly shook his hand. Then he dipped his hand inside his inner pocket and extracted a brown envelope. Tendering it to me, he stood aside without a word.

The girl’s fat-padded eyes closely studied him.

It was unusual, and I was at first reluctant to open the envelope.

“You have to open it up to know what’s in there.” The girl’s voice came while I still pondered what to do.

Then she childishly beckoned to me. I leaned over the counter. Cupping her hand over her mouth, she whispered with a child-like propensity;

“I think this man is a detective like Sherlock Holmes.”

I thought otherwise. He was more like James Moriarty; his eyes were hidden behind his shades and gave off a cold, calculating vibe. I had not heard him say more than two words, but then I could conjecture that his voice would be low and would carry a dangerous edge similar to the superficial hint of occultism and violence he bore.

I wanted to whisper all this into her ear, but I waved it off so the girl would not find the situation more uncomfortable.

At the far end of the room, a couple sat sipping their coffee, not very blind to what was happening but not very understanding of the situation. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

The man lingered on the spot, with shades on his face and a tight-lipped mouth. What was he up to?

“Can you give me a minute?” I asked the girl and her mom.

“Sure.” her mom answered.

Slowly, I opened the envelope, and there was a printed letter stamped by a man named Joe Griffin.

It was a proposal. The so-called Joe Griffin would give a hundred thousand dollars in exchange for the coffee shop, which he intended to demolish alongside the other establishments in this particular line of shops. The document mentioned that Joe Griffin knew of the foreclosure notice on the building; in his words, he was willing to relieve me of the burden of paying off the debt by buying the building.

Who was this man? And how did he know about something private? Knowing that he must have done some real digging totally put me off.

“I’m afraid I cannot agree with this.” I blatantly said, no longer interested in whatever was added toward the end of the letter. I prepared the girl’s order without minding the mysterious man’s presence.

“I advise you to reconsider, ma’am.” He spoke at last, stiff and still glued to the spot.

“I am not interested in your offer. Could you please tell Mr-”

“Joe Griffin.” He rudely cut in, stressing the words. I was irritated. “It is a generous offer, Miss Lisbon,” he continued.

“I am not interested in your “generous offer,” and it would be best if you took your leave so that I could concentrate on my business.” I wanted to sound as polite as possible, but I felt I might have failed at it.

He slightly groaned and left. My eyes trailed him as he disappeared into the busy street that separated the two uniform arrays of shops.

Disturbed and distressed, I handed the girl her order, her mom paid and they eventually left.

I was so angry and discouraged, so much so that I stopped cleaning and sat on my chair.

I immediately called my mom. I couldn’t help but tell her about the recent developments.

“It seems to me that he is a business owner,” I said.

“What could he possibly want to erect in such an area of the city? Not an industry; that would be very wrong.” She mused.

“Does that even matter, Mom? What matters is that he wants to buy the coffee shop to demolish it, and I cannot allow that.”

“Yes, my dear. I love your conviction. That is truly what matters. You have not come all this way to let it go.”

“Yes, Mom. I just hope he never returns.” Now, recollecting the ominous presence of the messenger gave me goosebumps.

“Whether he returns or not, you’ll be okay, baby. Trust me and take your stance. Also, keep me abreast of the situation, okay?” She instructed.

“Yes, Mom.”

“Good,” she smiled. “I hope there’s nothing else I should know about?” She arched her brow.

“Nothing else, Mom. It’s all cool here, and I feel better now.”

“You and Jacob are good?”

“Good?” I pondered the word for a moment. “Sure.” I knew I appeared pretty uncertain. I couldn’t really find a suitable answer to her question.

“Have you been in contact then?” She queried.

“Not really.”

Or could hesitant waves or “hellos” count as contact? And continual eyelocks and brushing against each other?

Could a lift count as…

Oh my God! It could count, but I would choose to deny it.

“Not at all.” I firmly said just as the door opened.

Jacob? What in the heavens was he doing here at that moment?

“Mom, I have to go now. I’ll talk to you later.” I panicked, cutting the call.