Chapter 4
Chapter Four
The atmosphere at Cuppa is better than I expected.
This quaint cafe is just what I needed. The smell of crisp autumn air wafts into the place every time the door opens, bringing a little chill. It doesn’t happen too often; the place has been pretty quiet, but each time someone comes in or leaves, it brings a pleasant if slightly blustery breeze.
I broke my winter coat out of my suitcase and am donning it now as I sit at a cute little table by the window, sipping my pumpkin spice latte in a beautiful, super-sized brown mug.
The window itself is adorned with a beautifully painted autumn scene, featuring a little cottage and colorful trees. The rest of the cafe is similarly decorated, the lighting as warm as the vibes.
It's so much different here than any of the coffee shops I’ve been to in Los Angeles. It’s warm and comforting, and the people who work here are kind and don't rush you through your order.
I could definitely get used to this.
The latte even tastes better here than it would in one of the big shops in the city. I don't doubt that the recipe is different, but I think the atmosphere plays a part in how the coffee tastes.
I came here this morning to clear my head. And not because of my unemployment, which was what I’d expected to wallow over the whole time I’m here.
No, it’s the handsome proprietor of the Bed and Breakfast Bec booked on my behalf that’s filling up my brain, forcing me to try and find something else to concentrate on.
He’s just so… hot. And young. I mean, I don’t know how old he is, but he has this innocence about him that radiates every time I’m nearby.
He didn’t even react to my meat joke yesterday. That was kind of disappointing.
Maybe he’s just not into me. Maybe he has a girlfriend or a mate or something.
Isn’t that what Crescent Lake is all about? Mates and scent matches and packs?
If only...
Finally finished with my latte, I rise and bring my mug over to the drop-off spot for dirty dishes. One of the young baristas smiles at me when she comes over to grab my mug.
I give a wave and a thank-you to the staff, turn around, and exit the cafe into the cool outside air.
Two steps out the door, and I walk straight into another person on the sidewalk.
Dammit, I have got to stop being so preoccupied!
Opening my mouth to apologize, I turn my gaze up and meet the most gorgeous chocolate brown eyes I've ever seen.
Very familiar eyes.
My parted lips suck in a gasp of air as I recognize the face right in front of me.
Pale skin, black hair peppered with sparse gray strands, especially at his temple, prominent brows… and those gorgeous brown eyes I’m staring into.
Holy shit.
“Asher!”
The man before me rubs his chest where my face had just planted, and blinks down at me. “Izzy?”
I let out a laugh as I say, “We cannot keep meeting this way.”
The first time I'd ever met Asher Black was at work, when he was contracted as a voiceover actor for one of our big game titles. My way of introduction was walking straight into him as I exited the kitchenette area, making him spill hot tea all over himself right at the start of the work day.
I spent the rest of the day apologizing every single time I saw him, and I saw him a lot.
Asher's surprised expression turns into a wild grin, and he laughs, his head shaking. “Izzy Ross. I can't believe that you're here. Of all the places to run into one another.” His grin turns crooked. “At least I didn’t have a cup in hand this time.”
His British accent makes me a bit weak in the knees, I’ll admit it. His voice, aside from the dialect, is smooth and deep, so assured and calm. He always made me feel happy.
I let out another nervous laugh, not acknowledging the drink-spill fiasco. “I haven’t seen you since Death of an Archon.”
Asher lets out a hum as his head nods. “It's been a couple of years now, hasn’t it? What are you doing here in Crescent Lake?”
“Well...” I clear my throat, deciding how much I should divulge. Then, I just run my mouth anyway. “I wound up losing my job, can you believe it? Just before the holidays!” I frown, more to stop from making a scene, and sigh. “So, I came here to get away.”
Asher looks more pale than usual at the news. “How could they possibly have fired you? You’re one of the best character designers I've ever met.”
Warmth blooms in my chest at his compliment, although I don’t know if he means it.
Asher is one of those people who makes you feel like you’re the only person that matters when he speaks to you. He’s completely focused and remembers everything from one conversation to the next, even if it’s been years.
His face takes on a serious expression, and he gestures to Cuppa behind me. “It looks like you just came from here, but I was about to have a cup. Would you like to sit and talk for a bit?”
Spending time with Asher is just what I need to distract me from thinking naughty thoughts about Will the Proprietor.
I smile warmly. “I would love to.”
He opens the door for me, and I pass through, back into the warm cafe, and head straight for the refrigerator at the back and grab a bottle of water. Once I have that in hand, I sidle up to Asher at the counter and wait to pay.
The same barista who smiled kindly at me when taking my used mug to the back stares at Asher with stars in her eyes as he orders Earl Grey tea in a medium mug.
When he’s finished ordering with that British lilt of his, she stands there, staring a moment, looking almost lost.
I stifle my smile as her head shakes with a nervous laugh before she disappears behind the partition. She returns a moment later with a white mug, a tea bag in a pouch, and a small carafe of what I assume is hot water.
“And the water, as well, please,” Asher says to the girl, gesturing to the bottle in my grasp.
She rings him up as I thank him, and then we head for the same little table I’d been sitting at right by the front window.
After we sit, he pours the water into his mug, adds nothing to his steeping tea, and looks up at me, head tilted just slightly.
“I know you’ve been sacked, but you look fantastic, Izzy. ”
The heat rises to my face at his compliment, a nervous laugh escapes my lips. Again.
When did I turn back into a high schooler?
“You look great, too, Asher.”
And by gods, do you smell great. I never noticed before, and I don’t know why, but his scent is like warm amber. It reminds me of an expensive candle I once had. Only so, so much more tantalizing.
“So, why Crescent Lake?” he asks, strangling his tea bag with the string around his spoon. “Do you know anyone here?”
“I actually do, but they don’t know I’m here.”
He peers up at me, confused.
“It was kind of a last-minute thing, coming here,” I explain. “Another friend of mine who’d stayed in Crescent Lake once suggested I come to get away after getting fired.” May as well tell him the truth. “I’m sort of avoiding family scrutiny.”
A look of understanding washes over his face. “I remember you mentioning not getting on with your family.”
I really am a blabbermouth.
“I came here on holiday years ago. Always remembered it fondly. And, when the time came for me to get some distance from Hollywood, I decided to return.” The light drains from his usually warm eyes as he says this.
My smile is sincere, although I’m a bit worried.
I’ve seen the tabloids, the gossip sites, social media posts…
he’s been embroiled in a scandal with his ex for quite some time, and it doesn’t look pretty.
All signs point to him being shunned professionally now, but I could never believe what I was reading or hearing.
Asher Black has always been a pure gentleman.
He’s about twelve years older than me—yeah, I stalked his actor profile the day we met, sue me—and that salt and pepper look he’s got going on now is really doing it for me.
But I digress. He’s kindhearted, and his energy has always been so positive.
I can’t believe for one nanosecond that he would mistreat his woman.
Something doesn’t add up.
But, it isn’t my business.