Chapter 20
Kaylee
Luke returned to California two days ago, and I feel like he took my heart with him. I wish he would have been open to the idea of a long-distance relationship because I would have jumped at the chance. I’m still processing the fact that I’m probably never going to see him again. The first guy who loves coffee as much as I do and who “gets me” and I let him walk away.
“Why do you look like you just spilled your latte?” Violet teases as she strolls up to the serving bar. Her smile falters as I don’t smile back. “In fact, you haven’t been yourself since Hottie Mountain Man left. What’s up?”
Sighing loudly, I say, “Luke thinks long-distance relationships don’t work. So I’ll never see him again.” Grabbing a towel, I furiously wipe the already clean counter with angry strokes, trying to expend some of my pent-up frustration.
“And you agreed to that?” Violet replies .
My strokes stall as I pause my frantic cleaning. “I mean, what else could I do? He’s probably right. He lives in California, and I live in Colorado. How are we supposed to make that work?”
She puts her hand on her hips. “You move to California or Luke moves here. It’s that simple. Can’t he do his security gig from anywhere?”
We didn’t even talk about this possibility. It’s like the minute the mission ended, Luke fled back to California. Maybe I misread him? Doubts swirl in my head.
Did I feel more for him than he felt for me? I guess I’ll never know.
~*~
The days drag into a week, and I miss the hunky mountain man more and more. I almost text him several times suggesting that we try a relationship.
What if I text him We’re the perfect blend! We made a Lofty-size mistake! Would that get his attention ?
I shake my head and return my attention to my job, focusing back on the supply spreadsheet. Staring at the screen, I wonder whether we need more creamers, stir sticks or sugar packets. Those darn condiments remind me of one of my brightest moments. Kaylee Zimmer, interrogator extraordinaire. A stab of regret hits at the thought that I was actually good at the surveillance job, and I enjoyed it, unlike my feelings about this boring spreadsheet.
“You got a letter,” Mom says as she strolls into the back office and drops the envelope on my desk.
When I see the California return address, my heart flips. Would Luke write me a letter?
I grab the envelope and rip it open. A check for $2,500 tumbles out. Double-checking the inside of the envelope, I confirm it’s empty. There’s no note... no yellow stickie with a scribbled message... nothing. My heart drops. Luke’s radio silence says it all.
“Wow! Is that your part of the reward?” Mom asks when she spies the check. “That’s an impressive payday, Kaylee. ”
Plastering on a fake smile, I enthuse, “It is! I can get one of those Marc Jacobs purses now!” Although no amount of designer bags is going to fill the hole in my heart that Luke left behind.
She gives me her “I’m your mother and you’re not fooling me” smile. “You really liked that ‘surveillance mission,’ as you called it, didn’t you?”
I can feel my fake smile slipping. “I did. It was so much fun observing all the suspects and gathering information about them. And I think I might have actually been good at it. For once.”
Mom frowns. “You’re good at a lot of things, Kaylee.”
My jaw drops. Praise from Mom? “Really? What about all the things I break or spill or—”
She shakes her head, cutting me off. “What about all the customers whose day you brighten? They tell me all the time how funny and sweet you are.” She reaches over and squeezes my shoulder. “I’m sorry if I didn’t tell you sooner, but you’re the best daughter a mother could have. ”
We both blink back tears. “Thanks, Mom. I feel the same about you.” My voice cracks as my throat clogs with emotion. Why has it taken both of us so long to express our true feelings? At least we’ve opened up with each other now. Hopefully that will build a stronger bond between us.
Clearing her throat, she adds, “And did you fall for the hunky guy who was your partner?”
“Maybe,” I reluctantly admit, my lips tipping downward.
Mom taps her finger on the desktop a couple times. “He won’t know how you feel about him, unless you tell him,” she says, then strolls away.
Groaning, I hold my head in my hands while a couple tears leak from my eyes.
Am I brave enough to tell Luke how I feel? Probably not. He would have said something if he felt the same for me. Right?
My pity party lasts a few minutes, then I dry my eyes and focus back on the supply spreadsheet, deciding to order more creamers, stir sticks, and sugar packets. You never know when someone will spill them.