Chapter 16 #2
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “She’s not my girl.” The statement hurt more than I expected them to. They were just words; they shouldn’t have been capable of punching me in the gut and knocking the damn wind out of me.
I flicked the paper football at him. It bounced off his wide chest and landed in his lap. He didn’t even bother to look down.
“No offense, Albert, I appreciate you defending me to Odette, but most of our exchanges comprise me joking around, pissing you off, and you saying something rude as fuck before walking away, so excuse me if I’m wondering what the hell you want right now.”
“Don’t fuck it up,” he said, as blunt as ever.
“Gee, thanks, but I think we’re past that.”
“Then unfuck it.”
“It’s easier said than done.”
“Take it from someone who fucked it up. You don’t want to look back in forty years and wish you could have gotten over yourself.”
The warning hit like a brick freaking wall. I had so many questions.
“Did you love—?”
He held his hand up. “We’re not playing twenty fucking questions. I said what I had to say. Take my advice or not. I don’t give a shit.” He took his cold brew and limped off, muttering something about cinnamon scones and nosy, ungrateful bastards.
I grabbed a napkin, ready to make another football, when she floated in like the most beautiful creature to grace the world with her presence. She was so damn beautiful. But as she got closer, I could see the bags under her eyes, see the slight paleness of her complexion.
I pushed from the table and met her halfway. I lifted my arms to hug her, but then stepped back, arms still in the air, unsure what the hell to do.
She gave me a quick hug, and we took our seats. “Are you okay?” I asked. “You look—”
“Like hell?”
“You could never look like hell. Seriously, you could take makeup lessons from Odette and roll in mud and still look beautiful.”
“We both know that’s a damn lie.”
“You know I can’t lie.”
“That’s true.” She smiled, and I swear the entire room lit up. “It’s your one tragic flaw.”
I leaned in my chair, hand to my chest. “Harsh. I personally prefer endearing, but sure, let’s go with tragic.”
That earned me the tiniest curve of her lips, and I wanted to jump up and throw my arms in the air. It was a minor victory, but it was the small things that built up to the big ones.
“Did you order yet?” she asked, looking toward the register.
I was so focused on getting inside and getting our table, I completely forgot. “I know your stomach’s been a little messy, so I wasn’t sure what you wanted. How is that, by the way? Have you seen a doctor yet?”
“I have. Everything is fine.” She smiled, but there was something beneath that smile.
“You’re not lying to me, are you?”
“Why would you think that?”
“No reason.” I swatted my hand across the space between us. “So, what do you want? Your usual?”
“Actually… I’m craving hot chocolate.”
“It’s nine hundred degrees out, and you want hot chocolate?”
She shrugged. “I know it’s crazy, but I learned not to question my body and it wants.”
That told me she was probably PMSing, and if that was the case, if she wanted hot chocolate, then she would get some hot chocolate. “You got it. Do you want anything to eat?”
“A scone would be great.”
“A hot chocolate and scone coming right up.” I jumped from the table and went right to the register. Kenneth greeted me with a smile while Michael was running around like a chicken with its head cut off. “Busy?”
“Ever since we set up online ordering, it’s been a never-ending flow of orders.
There’s also a Quilter Gone Wild Convention at the resort, so we have a ton of out-of-towners ordering.
It’s nice to see a familiar face. Rose’s, too.
” His eyes met mine, a sympathetic smile tugging at his mouth.
“She’s been in here a lot this week. She’s on a scone kick.
Been quiet, though. Keeps to herself. Hasn’t tried to make me set up an Instagram account. ”
Rose had been trying to get Kenneth to put Espresso Yourself on all the social media platforms so she could tag them in posts and cross-promote.
“You should just let her set it up for you. It’ll make her happy.”
“And that’s all you care about? Making her happy?”
“What can I say? I aim to please.”
“Always, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“Thanks,” I said, my eyes suddenly finding the packaged goods on the counter to be the most interesting thing in the world. I knew the news had just gotten out, but I was already over talking about it.
“Okay, what can I get you?” I appreciated Kenneth’s ability to read a room. I placed the order and went back to Rose. Her head was turned, her gaze lingering out the window. The streets were starting to fill up as the morning wore on.
“Kenneth said he’ll bring everything over.” I slid into my chair across from Rose. “So, what did the doctor say?”
“Excuse me?”
“You said you went to the doctor. What did they say?”
“Oh. Um. They did some bloodwork. I’ve got another checkup in a couple of weeks. I’m taking antacids.”
“Is it working?”
“It is,” she answered quickly. Almost too quickly. I eyed her, concern swirling inside me. She glanced away, and her shoulders relaxed as Michael approached the table and placed our drinks and scones in front of us.
“Here you two lovelies are. Can I get you anything else?”
“No, we’re good, Michael. Thank you,” I said, ready to jump back into our conversation, but Rose took her cup in hand and smiled at Michael.
“So when are you going to let me set up some socials for you? This scone is a work of art. The people need to see it. I won’t even charge you.”
“I don’t have time to make all the orders, let alone maintain a social account.”
Rose laughed, lighter and airier, and her body turned toward Michael as if she were shutting down our conversation. “I think you’re making more excuses.”
“When the Quilters Gone Wild crew moves out of town, we’ll talk.”
“Why don’t I come with you and take a few pics of your coffee creations just so I can be prepared for when you’re ready?”
My eyes lingered on her. The way she clung to Michael’s gaze, almost a plea in her eyes, as if she was dying to get away from me… What in the hell was going on?
“Sure, why the hell not?”
Rose shot to her feet. “You don’t mind, right, Wy? I won’t be long.”
“No, of course not.” I wasn’t going to stop her from doing the work she loved so much. I missed her and was desperate for any ounce of attention she gave me, but I wasn’t a complete prick.
“I’ll be right back. Promise.”
I picked up my scone and took a bite as she walked away from me. I knew she’d be back, but I also knew something was bothering her, and I needed to find out what.