6. Theo
THEO
Strawberry Springs Neighborhood Watch
Hu Gh: If anyone knows a Jade Clark, their package got delivered to my house.
Comments:
Jade Clark: You’re kidding, right?
Hu Gh: Name seems familiar . . .
Jade Clark: Hugh, PLEASE.
Hu Gh: Yeah, yeah. I’m pulling your leg. Your package is in your apartment.
Jade Clark: Thank you.
Jade Clark: Wait, IN my apartment???
The next day, I was the only one manning the shop, which I was grateful for, considering how obvious it was that I was watching the door.
While talking to Piper, she seemed to perk up right before my eyes, but I wanted to know if that was for my sake or if I’d actually made her feel better.
My normal early morning customers came and went, and I tried not to be disappointed. If I was this on edge all day, there was no telling what I would do if she walked in.
I didn’t need to feel this way either. I’d told myself to keep my distance, and I was already failing.
It was near eight when another customer of note walked in.
Henry was dressed in a button-up shirt and tie. I had a feeling he was heading to work. Actually, I knew he was. This was the time he usually was walking into the clinic.
“This isn’t your coffee day,” I said.
“Guilty. We ran out a little early and Wren suggested I get something from here to cheer me up. So, here I am.”
“Want a flat white, or are you changing that today too?”
He laughed and shook his head. “No, thank you. I’ll take my usual. I can’t shake things up that much.”
I nodded and started grinding the beans for the espresso shot.
“You’re taking the change in your schedule well,” I said as I pressed the grounds into the portafilter.
Henry shrugged. “I never like it, but not everything is set in stone. Life certainly isn’t.”
I hummed while the shot brewed and I steamed milk.
Doing what I did all the time gave me time to think.
Once upon a time, Henry was like me. Friendly when he had to be, but he kept to himself. I liked that about him. Hell, I liked that about Cain and Dean, a farmer and electrician, too. But then they all fell in love. They slowly opened up.
“You used to not think that way. What changed your mind?”
Henry answered immediately, “Meeting the right person.”
“That’s all it takes?” It came out with a long breath of air.
“Met someone?” Henry asked.
“No. There’s no one.”
His eyebrows only rose. “Right. There’s no one.”
I had the sinking feeling that he was only playing along for my sake. I tried to think of something to say to actually make him believe me.
“What do I owe you?” he asked, holding out his card.
I blinked and made myself focus. I told him his total and took his payment, still trying to find the right words.
“I’ll actually pretend I don’t know anything,” he said softly. “But I do talk to Dean, so I have an idea about who it is.”
“Nothing is going on.”
“Okay, but if it does, you can talk to us. Or if you want someone to nod along and say nothing, Cain’s an option too.”
“I don’t need to talk at all . . . but thanks.”
Henry gave me a smile before walking out of the shop.
When I was alone, I let out another long breath and rubbed my face.
That hadn’t gone well at all. I hated the idea that Henry and Dean had talked about me. I hated that far too many people were noticing a thing that shouldn’t have been happening at all.
I had to put it out of my mind and focus on work.
With a sigh, I focused on the customers coming in. For a few hours, things were normal.
Then in the afternoon, my eyes slid back toward the door, and I saw Piper walking in.
Dammit.
“Hi,” she said. “One black coffee, please.”
“Are you feeling better?”
She blinked, but then her lips curved upward. “Mostly. Still a little off, but I’m here. That’s a win. And I plan to be here for a while.”
“It’s good timing too. We’re slow up until close.”
“Exactly,” she said.
“Will the caffeine make you stay up all night?”
“Please.” She laughed. “I could drink espresso and go to sleep after.”
“I know the feeling.”
As I turned to grab the coffee for her, she asked, “Is Kelsey not here?”
“It’s her day off.”
“When’s your day off?”
“I don’t take those.”
“Oh,” she said. “That’s probably not good for your mental health.”
“There’re worse things,” I replied.
We both knew that was true. I put the cup down on the counter, ensuring that she didn’t have to grab it from me.
Piper tried to hand me her card, but I shook my head. “It’s on the house.”
“What? But—”
“You paid for yesterday’s and didn’t get to enjoy it.”
“I let it spill everywhere.”
“It wasn’t that bad. I’ve had worse accidents when tired.” Only when we were closed, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Still,” she insisted. “I’m the one who caused all of that. I should pay for both.”
“I’m not taking that card,” I said. “It’s free today.”
Piper’s cheeks darkened, but she slowly put her card away. I nodded in the direction of a table and she walked off.
I made sure my eyes didn’t follow her.
The shop was quiet for the rest of the day. A few people came in for late drinks, but no one stayed until close.
Which meant that Piper and I were alone.
She was tapping away on her laptop. I had no idea what she was doing.
I flipped the sign and then made sure the blinds were closed. I’d never had anyone stay this late before, but I knew I wouldn’t bother her if she was focused. If that meant I worked on cleaning while she did what she had to do, then so be it.
I was used to being alone, and that was how I wanted to be. Oftentimes, I sent Kelsey home because I didn’t mind finishing up the day by myself.
Having Piper here should’ve been a deterrent. And other than me not being able to clean her table, we slipped into something comfortable. I couldn’t tell if it was because she was quiet or if it was because she was far too similar to me.
I was sweeping when she finally spoke. “Are you closed?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
I knew she was there, but I was so focused on not looking at her and taking my time so she could finish up what she was working on that she snuck up on me.
“Shit,” I muttered, rubbing my face. This was why I did better alone. “Yeah, I’m closed.”
Her eyes went wide. “Oh, God. I stayed that long? Why didn’t you warn me? I would’ve gotten out of your way.”
I could only shrug. “You were focused. And you seemed calm.”
She blinked. “Yeah, I was. It helped that no one was here.”
“I was here.”
“Right.” Her cheeks darkened and I had no idea why she didn’t see me as someone to watch. I knew better than to think I could make a good first impression. “Still. I got a lot done, so thank you for that.”
If it were anyone else, I would have given a polite nod and moved on. But she wasn’t, so I didn’t. Maybe it was the fact that I was used to being alone, or maybe it was her. I wasn’t sure which was worse.
“What were you doing?”
“Writing. I’m an author.”
“Really?” I replied. “We don’t have one of those around here. Marjorie and Henrietta would stock your books at the library if they knew.”
Piper’s head tilted to the side in a silent question. I knew exactly how she was feeling. Henrietta was the one who sat me down and gave me a community guide to memorize. Some days, I still felt like I needed it.
“They work at the library,” I explained. “One is mostly normal. Marjorie is . . . Well, you’d have to meet her to get it. She’s eccentric.”
“Eccentric. Should I be worried about that?”
I shook my head. “She pries, but knows when to quit. She comes by every morning to get coffee for her and her wife, Henrietta. She drinks it black and Henrietta leaves room for cream.”
Piper’s lips curled upward as I mentioned their coffee orders and mine fell to the floor. I knew I sounded like a nerd, but my love for coffee did that to me. “I’ll file that away right behind my intense love for the Oxford comma.”
“Do I even wanna know?”
“My editor was pushing for me to rewrite a lot of my sentences so that I’d stop using the Oxford comma, but doing so would remove a lot of my voice as the author. So I had to fight with her to keep them, and she finally gave in.”
“At least I’m not the only one with a passion,” I replied. “How long have you been writing?”
“Officially, over seven years. But I’ve been published for four.”
I tried to do the math in my head. She looked young. Like she was barely twenty, but when she spoke, I got a different idea.
“I started writing when I was seventeen. Or at least I finished a novel then. I got published when I was twenty, in case you were curious.”
“I-I know better than to ask.”
“I hear that I look younger than I am, so I take it as a compliment. Unless you were about to tell me I look thirty, then please keep that to yourself.”
“You don’t look anywhere near my age.”
“So you’re thirty?”
“Older.”
“Forty.”
“Oh, come on. Not that old.”
“I could’ve said fifty. You have a gray hair.”
My hand immediately went to my scalp. “No I don’t.”
She laughed. “Checking for them, are we?”
“No,” I tried to lie.
“Sure, Theo. I’ll pretend to believe that.”
I blew out a breath, trying to resist the urge to smile at her. I didn’t want her to know I was enjoying this. She was so vibrant when she was comfortable with someone.
But I didn’t want to think about her being comfortable with me. People usually weren’t.
“Thirty-six,” I answered. “I’m thirty-six.”
“You don’t look a day over forty.”
“Now you’re making fun of me.”
“I am. You’re frowning, but also not? I don’t know how to describe it.”
“You’re a writer. Shouldn’t you know?”
She smiled up at me. “Sometimes I forget words when something good happens to me.”
We were slipping into something risky, something that I didn’t want to think too hard about.
“I . . . need to finish closing up.”
Piper blinked, as if she was finally realizing how late she’d stayed. “Oh, right. I’m sorry for keeping you.”
“It’s . . .” It wasn’t fine. It was a bad idea, striking up a friendship with her.
She waited for me to continue. I had no idea what to say.
“I’ll get out of your way then,” she said before going back to her table to gather her things. Guilt settled into my chest and I tried to rub it away. It didn’t work.
She got to the door before I spoke up. “Piper?”
“Yeah?” She turned to me.
“You should really go to the library on a good day. I have a feeling you’d love it.”
Piper opened her mouth, but then shut it. She gave me a nod before leaving the shop, and I sighed once I was fully alone.
Way to stay away from her, Theo.
When I was a kid, I’d been terrible at following rules.
I didn’t realize I still was.