Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Olivia
I’m in full-on pajamas mode, wrapped in the fluffiest, coziest blanket I could find, with my hair a tangled mess and my face bare of anything remotely resembling makeup.
I’m not proud of it, but this is where I’ve been for the last few hours. In my own little self-imposed hibernation after the whole… thing with my boss.
What’s the point of putting on a brave face when all you want is to ignore the world? I even tried a bit of online Christmas shopping, but I don’t have the strength for it.
And on the one time you do go out, with your head all over the place, you end up being called a bitch…
I might have acted like one, but I’m under a lot of pressure. So much. Without my job, I no longer know who I am.
Just as I’m about to groan and hide under the sheets forever, there’s a knock on the door.
I grunt. It’s probably Ivy. She knows I’m a mess, but she’s always barging in anyway, no matter how I look.
“Liv? You in there?” She’s too cheerful, like she has the energy of three toddlers and two pots of coffee all rolled into one.
I drag myself off the couch and open the door, squinting against the light. She’s standing there, wearing that ridiculous, way too stylish for someone with kids grin.
“Hey! You ready for some fun?”
She bounces on the balls of her feet like she’s been caffeinated for a week straight.
I raise an eyebrow. “Fun? I’m in pajamas, Ivy. It’s barely noon.”
She doesn’t even seem to notice. “Well, I have a few hours of child-free freedom, so I’m going to do something with it. And you’re coming with me.”
I stare at her, still in my pajamas, the blanket wrapped around me like a shield. “Child-free? So, you're, what, pretending you're on vacation too? Nice try. You're not getting me out of this house.”
Ivy grins, knowing that resistance is futile. “Come on, Liv. You can’t spend the whole day hiding out here. Plus, you’ll love this. We’re going to do something spontaneous.”
I sigh dramatically, feeling my resistance start to melt. “Spontaneous. Right. Because that worked so well for me the last time I tried it.”
Ivy laughs, all too used to my dramatic flair. “You’ve been holed up in this cabin long enough. Trust me, this’ll be fun. And you can put on something other than those pajamas. I’m not dragging you out looking like that.”
I glance at my reflection in the window behind her and immediately regret it.
“Okay, fine,” I grumble, “But only because you’re my best friend, and if I don’t leave this house, I might lose my mind.”
“Atta girl!” Ivy claps her hands, and I turn around, making my way to the bedroom.
A few minutes later, I’m dressed in something vaguely human. Jeans, a sweater, and shoes that are more “I’m ready to go out” than “I’m still in mourning for the life I didn’t know I was going to lose.”
I step outside just as Ivy is revving her car engine. She's already sitting behind the wheel, her face lit up with excitement, probably because her life is a whirlwind of activity, and mine is more of a quiet, “please leave me alone” type of existence right now.
“You sure I can’t just stay here? You know, give me another hour or two of pretending the world doesn’t exist?” I ask, dragging my feet as I walk toward the car.
“Nope,” Ivy replies, dripping with mock authority. “You’re coming, and you’re going to have fun whether you like it or not.”
I groan as I get in, but, of course, she’s right. I might not be thrilled now, but I’ll be glad she dragged me out later. Besides, anything’s better than sitting around thinking about how much my life has changed.
As the car pulls away from the cabin, I roll down the window, letting the crisp air hit my face, and I feel like I can breathe again. Maybe this won’t be such a bad day after all.
The drive to wherever Ivy’s dragging me is a blur, but I catch glimpses of the town, the trees, the actual people who seem to be getting their lives together while I’m here questioning mine.
This town is supposed to be a vacation, a little escape from the chaos of my life, not somewhere I’m staying. But, well… what else can I do? It’s not like I have anywhere else to go, and I sure as hell can’t go back to my old life in that corporate cage.
Not after that argument with Richard. There’s no going back now…
When we finally pull up to a dusty lot near the mechanic’s shop, I can’t help but stare.
“Welcome to your new future,” Ivy says, practically vibrating with excitement.
I look around, utterly confused. There’s an old, slightly beat-up coffee truck parked outside the mechanic’s place, looking like it’s seen better days. The sign in the window reads, For Sale in blocky, no-nonsense letters.
I blink. “Wait. This is your idea of fun?”
Ivy looks positively thrilled, as if she’s just found a treasure chest in the middle of a junkyard. “This is your new business, Liv. It’s destiny. It's fate. It’s… okay, fine, it's a coffee truck, but seriously—”
“What?" My brain takes a second to process. "This… this is your spontaneous plan? To get me to buy a… truck?”
She throws her hands up like she’s finally cracked some code.
“Yes! The food truck that used to park by the fire station just left. The spot is open. It’s the perfect chance to take the plunge!
You’ve always wanted to run a coffee truck.
I recall you mentioning it before. And that dream got lost because of the corporate cage, but now… now’s your time!”
I look at the truck again. It’s got a certain… charm. Sure, it’s not the sleekest vehicle on the block, but it could be. The faded yellow paint, the little chalkboard sign in front that says Espresso Love, clearly a work in progress, and the potential. Oh wow, the potential.
“Okay, but I don’t exactly have a ton of cash just lying around,” I say, laced with skepticism. “I just quit my job. I don’t even know the first thing about running a truck.”
Ivy grins like she’s already won. “Liv, this is perfect. You’ve been suffocating in that office job.
You’ve always dreamed of doing something for yourself.
Plus, that spot by the fire station is literally begging for a coffee truck to take over.
I’ve negotiated a favorable price, and I’m confident you can afford it.
You had a good salary and no time to do anything fun. Time to invest that in yourself.”
I chew on the idea for a minute. The more I think about it, the more this wild idea starts to feel… possible.
Maybe it’s the way Ivy’s looking at me like she knows exactly what I need before I even realize it myself. Or maybe it’s the fact that I can’t think of a single thing I’ve wanted more than to do my own thing.
“I don’t know,” I mutter, glancing at the truck again. “What if it’s a disaster?”
Ivy throws an arm around my shoulder, leaning in with that look on her face that I know too well. “Oh, honey. If you’re going to fail, fail spectacularly. And if you succeed? You’ll be living the dream. Coffee, freedom, maybe even a little romance thrown in. What do you think?”
I stare at her, almost laughing. “Romance? What, like, with the mechanic?”
“Sure,” Ivy shrugs, grinning. “Or maybe with Karl. That playboy fireman sure had his eye on you during the Halloween party.”
The words playboy fireman make my heart skip a beat, and I must fight the urge to roll my eyes. Yeah, because that’s exactly what I need right now. A distraction like Karl Madden.
Or Jesse Fletcher. Not that I’m talking about Jesse right now.
Or ever.
“Okay,” I say finally, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it. Let’s see what this truck’s all about.”
And just like that, I’m imagining a life where I’m the one pulling up every morning, making lattes and croissants, and not answering to a boss who treats me like a machine. For the first time in days, I feel… hopeful.
Maybe this could work. This may be the beginning of something amazing.
Ivy practically skips over to the coffee truck, and I follow her, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’m about to step into this world of caffeine dreams and questionable decisions.
Ivy pushes open the rusted truck door with a dramatic flourish, making it creak like a grand stage curtain rising.
“Welcome to your future,” she says, full of exaggerated grandeur.
I step inside, feeling like I’m stepping into another dimension. The space is small and cramped, but in a cozy way that makes you feel like you could create something special here.
The inside is a little grungy, but there’s character.
Old coffee makers and a sink that’s seen better days.
A fridge tucked in the corner, with half a dozen empty, dusty shelves that could be filled with all the best pastries, syrups, and milk options.
The counter, chipped but sturdy, just waiting for a good cleaning and some extra love.
I run my fingers along the counter, imagining the flow of busy mornings. The hum of the espresso machine. The sound of orders and laughter. The steady, rhythmic tapping of a frothing wand.
I’m starting to get it. Really get it. This truck could be mine.
“This place has so much potential,” I mutter to myself, my fingers tracing the edges of the counter like it’s a treasure map.
Ivy catches the tone in my voice and raises an eyebrow. “Wait, are you actually considering this?”
I pause. Is this crazy? Yes. But then again, so was quitting my job without a plan. And look how that’s been going. My chest tightens with a mix of fear and excitement, and I can’t help but smile.
“I mean,” I say, kind of hopefully. “Look at this. It’s… It’s got character.” I glance around the truck again, the wheels in my head already turning. “We could fix it up, make it cute, Instagram worthy. We could have, like, a signature drink… something that makes people line up just for a taste.”
Ivy grins, clearly reading the shift in my energy. “See? I knew you had it in you. It’s the perfect opportunity. You don’t need to wait for the perfect job. Create it yourself.”
I stand there for a moment, feeling the idea settle in my chest. The potential feels huge, terrifying, but also… exhilarating.
I step behind the counter, feeling a little giddy. I slide open the drawer and pull out a notepad that looks like it’s been there for years, its edges curled with age.
Scribbling on the first available page, I jot down “Espresso Love” in uneven handwriting. Then I draw a quick sketch of the chalkboard sign, imagining it surrounded by twinkling lights, an inviting little beacon for sleepy-eyed locals craving their first cup of the day.
I start listing things we’d need: new coffee beans, fancy syrups, pastry suppliers, and, of course, a killer playlist to set the vibe.
I look up at Ivy, a little breathless. “I could do this. This… this could actually work.”
Her face lights up, and she wraps me in a quick hug, nearly knocking me into the espresso machine. “I knew you’d see it! I knew it!”
I laugh, slightly overwhelmed by the flood of possibilities. “I’m starting to believe it, too. This could be fun.”
“Fun?” Ivy raises an eyebrow with a teasing smirk. “Honey, this is gonna be a wild ride. You’re gonna be so busy, you won’t have time to think about anything else. No more being chained to a desk. Just you, coffee, and Coyote Glen.”
My chest constricts. I have been throwing caution to the wind, acting like I’m not going to be here for long, so now…
Well, now I need to focus on this, right?
I glance out the window, seeing the small crowd of people walking by. A group of teenagers heads to the mechanic’s shop. A couple of regulars stroll by, their faces already familiar from my few days here.
“Maybe I could do this,” I say more to myself than to Ivy, growing in conviction. “Maybe this is the thing I’ve been waiting for.”
Ivy nods, her grin widening. “That’s the spirit, Liv. Let’s get to work.”
And just like that, I’m already imagining the lines of people gathering outside my little coffee truck, waiting for their morning cup of magic.
It’s a long road ahead, but for the first time in days, I feel like I’m headed in the right direction.