CHAPTER 13
Harper
“Morning, all,” he says, cocky and annoying. It’s not just the ego boost that he must get from having half the town in here just to watch him order coffee. Which, today, is everyone from yesterday, plus the aunts and Braxton and his buddies. I didn’t even know they could wake up this early.
I also feel like the Dark Lord knows I had grand plans to avoid him. But Madison is down with a stomach bug.
“Large black coffee, please, and today’s request is your bagel box.”
I just nod.
Everyone starts to gush about how great the bagel variety box is. Dad’s bread is really good, yes, but it’s my new cream cheese recipes that take them to the next level. I don’t comment though, I just grin as they sing the food’s praises.
“Quite a crowd this morning, Harper,” Aiden says to my back. I can hear him shift, addressing the room, “I expect you all paid for your breakfasts?”
Most of them didn’t.
I know it, they know it, he does too.
“Suppose it’s on me then,” he grumbles. I turn back and frown, you want me to ring up all their orders? “Yes,” he replies like I spoke out loud. “Ring up all their orders so far this morning plus the bagels.”
I narrow my eyes, but, feeling a bit like Stuart, I do exactly what he says. It takes a while and the whole group thanks him while hemming and hoeing about a “friends and family discount” that doesn’t actually exist. Aiden watches me with a severity that makes me itchy. And probably blotchy.
I turn the iPad to him and he reaches out to cover my hand with his.
My skin buzzes. Malfunction in the register?
“No more friends and family discounts,” he says. I…I can’t seem to react. I just feel like my hand is on fire. He pulls away and turns to the room, “No more freeloading. Here or elsewhere in town. You want to be profitable, the very bare minimum you can do is actually charge for your wares.”
Everyone murmurs and looks down, like a kindergarten class that was just given a severe scolding by a grumpy principal. Including me. Minus the murmuring.
“It’s a common mistake,” his voice finds my back. “If anything, friends and family should pay double. You are each other’s…people, I imagine?” He asks it like having a village of support is a strange, unpleasant concept.
“Yeah!” Shelly and Betty say in unison.
Tyrone says, “Ya, dat’s right!”
Others chime in.
“Well, then bloody act like it. You’re not running charities here. Honestly. Think, people.” He scoffs back.
There he is. Thought for a second maybe he wasn’t an unbearable, rude tyrant. Ha!
I give him the most polite Please Get Out of My Store smile that I can muster as I hand over the huge bag containing a bagel box and various cream cheeses.
“So? When’s the next little holiday?” He sneers the last word of his question.
I keep my face the same and lift my hand to point to the sign. Next up is our Easter Market with the usual farmer’s market activities, plus egg hunts, bunny races and whatever else Steven and I can come up with.
He scans the information then looks back at me. He lowers his voice, since everyone is absolutely listening to him and says, “You do talk sometimes. I’ve heard your voice, it exists. Surely you talk to customers? To Vendors? To your employees?”
I answer simply, my fake smile intact, “To friends.”
He freezes.
The whole room freezes.
“BUUUUURN!” Braxton breaks the silence. Then his friends chime in on top of each other,
“Bro just got roasted at the Roasted Chestnut!”
“Ugh, why didn’t we have our phones out for that?”
“Cooked by the Baker!”
“Coooooooked!”
Aiden dips his head as if to say touché. On that we agree. We are absolutely not, nor will we ever be, friends.
_____
Ding!
Another one? Unbelievable.
Steven, plus Miles, Tyrone, Maxine, both of the Newmans, Shelly and Betty and the teenagers and now even Carl.
Carl!
I’ve managed to skip two mornings but I was here the first couple times. What is so interesting about Aiden coming in here for coffee?
Carl orders one of my most ridiculous spring specials, basically a mocha with extra portions of the yummy stuff: chocolate sauce, whipped cream, chocolate drizzle, and my special ingredient.
The crew teases him mercilessly about this until he makes a big show about paying full price for it.
It’s an expensive drink. Huh. Guess Carl has heard about Sir Bridgerton’s little lecture the other day.
Ding!
“Hello…everyone,” Aiden says. Clearly the humor has worn off. Now he just seems grumpy. Although, he could be tired.
Stupid dog.
Stuart howled to get out of the garage at two in the morning.
I let him into the yard where he did his business then hopped the fence and ran away.
To Aiden’s porch. Where he whined and whined—while I guess I fell dead asleep waiting for him inside on my garage steps—until Aiden grabbed his collar and marched him back to my house.
Aiden was not amused. I stood and met them in the middle of the garage and he froze, like he was surprised to see me at my own house.
I started to say sorry but he harrumphed, maybe angrier than I’ve ever seen his perfect face look.
Even with bags under his eyes and overnight stubble all over his face, he looked brutally gorgeous in the glow of my single garage light.
He shoved Stu toward me and mumbled an order to keep him inside. I thought he was so mad at me that maybe he’d skip his visit this morning.
If only I could be so lucky.
“See, I told you,” Steven says to someone. I try to read lips and figure out what he told who but there’s a lot of whispering and side eyeing. Then Steven calls out, “Good morning! We all paid!”
Aiden scoffs, “Well, done.”
Even though his tone sounds exasperated, my friends, like Stuart, seem to beam under this man’s praise.
But he…he’s just standing at the counter. Not ordering. I blink a few times and then make him his usual. I wordlessly make a lot of regulars their coffees. It’s fine. This is fine.
But I don’t know what food he wants for his crew.
I slide him his drink and look up. He…he’s staring at the board like he’s confused. So much so that I turn around and look over my shoulder. Nip, same menu as always.
I turn back.
He’s almost smirking?
Oh.
This is my punishment. He wants me to ask.
He crosses his arms and lifts his eyebrows.
I do too.
“See, I told you it was worth coming in, Carl!” Either Shelly or Betty whisper shouts.
Wait, what?
What’s worth it? This little show?
I shake myself free of…whatever this is. This is not like me. I’m not actually Mute Little Harper anymore. And I’m not this petty. I’m a capable, if not quite successful, business owner. You are Boss Harper.
I square my shoulders, look him in the eye and try to grin. Or at least not grimace.
“What can I get you?” I ask.
I expect him to gloat. I expect him to beam and tell everyone he’s the champion of our little staring contest. I think Braxton may have actually just declared him so.
But he seems…disappointed?
“Quiches today, please,” he says.
I nod, “Bacon, Spinach or Sausage?”
His eyes sparkle the tiniest bit, like those four words were a special gift just for him.
“A few of each, I suppose, what about—”
Ding!
Everyone turns to the door.
Oh, geez.
It’s a man I don’t recognize. Although he looks just like Santa Claus, and we get a lot of those in December.
It’s possible he’s been here before. Still, this is not the best time for an actual customer, or a newcomer or a tourist. The whole freaking town is quiet and staring and just being generally as awkward as can be.
The town studies this new guest. But Aiden studies me.
So, I make a show of smiling wide, “Welcome to the Roasted Chestnut,” I say around the billionaire. “What can I give you, er, get you?”
“Um, a latte…” he stares at the menu for a beat, not noticing my stammering.
I ring up Aiden’s order as Santa Man goes on, ordering another drink and two breakfast sandwiches.
He asks me a couple questions that have, thankfully, yes or no answers.
Because I am growing more flustered as our town celebrity just stands and stares at me.
Meanwhile the entire store filled with people stares at him.
Eventually the customer gives Aiden a look and I widen my eyes at him.
Time to pay and leave, you’re making it weird!
“Right. Excuse me,” he finally says. Then he steps back, side-eyeing both me and the customer before, finally, he leaves.
Almost everyone follows Aiden out, sad their morning entertainment is over.
I, on the other hand, am almost giddy with relief. I throw in an extra muffin for Santa at no charge, mostly because Aiden would tell me not to, and even make myself one of the mocacchinos Carl ordered.
The daily confrontation is over, things can only go up from here.
“Harp!” Steven squeals from the door as its bell rings, not a minute later. “Look!” Aiden appears next to him. Holding onto my dog.
I sigh. Once the customer seems totally set, not looking around for napkins or a fork or anything else, I duck out the front door.
“Your boy was just frolicking through town square and this guy went,” Steven makes his voice gruff, “‘Stuart. Come.’ And then he just came straight to him! Like, like a dog whisperer! I couldn’t believe it!”
I look at the whisperer in question and he clamps his jaw, thoroughly annoyed.
“I thought you keep him locked in your garage when you’re gone?” Steven asks me.
I shrug. I thought I did. Dad let him out? He’s a freaking Houdini dog? I don’t know!
“Sorry,” I manage to say above a whisper. I can feel my face turning so red I bet it’s almost maroon. I want to yell, I’m not a dog person! This is not my dog! This is not my fault! But I just add, “Thank you.”
Aiden clears his throat, “Shall I take him home for you?” I frown in confusion. Aiden looks over my shoulder at the shop which is still open. I look at Steven.
“I can watch it for a few minutes. Go ahead, Harp, I got you,” my friend answers me. He’s manned the registers a few times before in situations exactly like this one.
“Thank you,” I smile wide at Steven who really is one of the other great loves of my life.
He wouldn’t talk to me for a while in high school because we were both desperate to kiss the same boy, I found out years later, but he’s never left.
Never gone straight out of town to greener fields in a blaze of thunder.
Aiden snorts.
My smile dies.
“You need more staff. You can’t just leave the store,” he huffs. I reach for Stu’s collar and he puts his body between me and the dog. Like he’s keeping my dog from me! “I can easily take him back to your house.”
I close my eyes tight and exhale, “There’s a garage code.”
“So, text it to me. I’ll let you know he’s locked away before I head to the job site.” Text it to you? You think we’re going to exchange phone numbers?! Aiden answers what my face must be saying, “Yes, I’m saying give me your number. We’re neighbors, after all.”
I twist around him and grab Stuart’s collar, then say, “No, thanks!” And dart away before he can reply. I think I can make out Steven’s laughter on his way into the bakery but it’s hard to say. Because I’m running away.
Some boss you are, Harper!
_____
I love you so much, I say telepathically to my bed at 8pm. I normally try to make it until 9. Not today. Running Stuart home as fast as I could on foot, riding my bike to and from work…I’m dead. I curl up on my side listening as a few early-spring crickets chirp outside. What a lovely sound to—
Buzz
Buzz
I groan and lift up to get my phone from the side of my bed.
Unknown Number: Stuart is at my house.
It takes a minute for me to comprehend what I’m seeing. My stomach flips as I do. Only the world’s most arrogant being would just state a fact like that, no need to introduce himself. Or apologize for getting my number from someone other than me.
Which means right now, Lady Bridgerton—Lord I mean! Lord Bridgerton, Aiden—is next door, texting me.
Unknown Number: You’ve got a faulty latch on your garage window.
Harper: omw
I sigh. Obviously I’m completely in let-me-be-ugly-and-comfortable-at-home mode.
My hair is a nest on my head, I have serum on my face, plus lip oil…
oh well. I search for my hoodie but can’t find it, so I throw on my big fluffy robe from Lily.
It’s too warm for it this evening but I’m not putting my bra back on. I refuse.
I find my fuzzy slippers and trek to get my giant pet.
Aiden and Stuart are waiting for me in the driveway. The dog watches me approach, just standing, no leash, no fence.
“You were asleep?” Aiden asks when I near them.
“Almost,” I sigh.
“Stuart… Okay,” Aiden commands my dog, and on the last syllable, the secret spell holding him in place releases. He bounds over to me and licks my hand. I pat his head. Aiden sounds genuinely confused, “But it’s 8:06.”
I just look up at him and let my face say, uh, duh.
He seems to mentally kick himself as he says, “You’re up at, what, three?”
I just nod. Close enough.
“Right, well, he ran a good bit. Should be tired. But you’ll have to fix that latch.”
I yawn and nod and wave goodbye as we walk back inside. I’ll just keep Stuart in the house until I get the window fixed. Dad hates how he takes over the couch as his personal chair, but it’s not like either of us actually sits on it much anymore. Dad’s in his recliner and I’m never home.
I open the front door and Stu goes straight to it. You win. You can have the couch.
I think the dog understands, almost smiling as I chuckle to myself and head back upstairs. I shrug off my slippers and robe and slide back into my happy place. But I’m suddenly a lot less tired. I glance at my cell phone on the nightstand like it’s a ticking bomb.
Aiden Vanderwell has my number.
…
Aiden Vanderwell texted me!
I’m not sure how I feel about this!
I am sure I’m not falling asleep any time soon.