CHAPTER FIFTEEN
L ittle white lies were acceptable—sometimes.
In the eyes of the law they were an obstruction of justice and therefore a crime, but I wasn’t standing trial. Some white lies were beneficial to the recipient. It wasn’t like the time my colleagues neglected to tell me I had a piece of kale stuck in my teeth right before my photo op with the sheriff.
I told Amelia I was working late, and I was, technically, I just wasn’t working for the sheriff’s department. Instead, I was working on something for her. I pulled up outside Baker’s Coffee House. The day before I’d asked Cooper’s older brother, Keith, to fix the sign. The U was back in its rightful place now, and the orange glow of the fresh bulbs shone a light on the pathway below.
Convincing my sister to lease the property with the intention of selling it once the business was off the ground was the easy part. Katherine no longer wanted the responsibility of a business venture. In her words, “The current climate wasn’t stable enough for another florist, romance was dead, and most people opted for the cheaper gas station flower option.”
She wasn’t wrong. She couldn’t rely solely on Mother’s Day and Valentine’s Day as her only sources of income .
However, a new coffee shop appeared daily on a street corner across the country. Coffee was the miracle drug that kept people alive. According to studies, people who consumed three or more cups of coffee a day saw a thirty percent reduction in cardiovascular mortality. My current run rate meant my chances of suffering a stroke or a heart attack were slim to none. I loved coffee.
It was a long shot. I hoped Amelia wouldn’t see it as an intrusion. I planned on having no part of the business. My only suggestion was for purely selfish reasons; I hoped she would consider working alongside Brittany to feature some of her baked goods. It wouldn’t bode well for my work trousers. They were already so tight my phone left a permanent outline on the pocket, but it would bode well for business. The baked goods were a hit around town.
Pamela Baker coming into town had thrown off my whole plan, but I refused to let the change in circumstance stop me. There was no better time to ask Amelia to stay, in essence that’s what I was doing. I was giving her a reason to stay, a reason other than just me. I hoped Baker’s Coffee House might help her see a future in Magnolia.
With each passing minute we spent together I fought the urge to tell her I wanted her to stay. I needed her to stay. The way I felt about her hit me like a boat at full speed every single day. It knocked me for six every morning when I watched her sip coffee in my kitchen. It catapulted me backwards every evening when I watched her exit the shower, throw her towel to the floor, and slip on some pyjamas so we could sit on the porch. Just yesterday, I felt like someone had dropped me fifty thousand feet without a parachute. I spiralled out of control until she walked in from the local grocery store with a bunch of flowers in her hand and a grin on her face. I suddenly felt peace. She had become my calm after a long day at work, and that’s when I knew I was falling in deep.
Pamela’s arrival scared me. She had leverage over Amelia, years and years’ worth of leverage. What if she somehow convinced her to return to Austin? What if they were already in talks to sell the house and rid her of any connection to Magnolia—including me.
I called Brittany.
“Tell me if I’m being crazy,” I whined.
“You’re not being crazy,” she reassured.
“How sure are you?”
“Honestly? Not very, but the last girl I dated scared the shit out of me because she asked me to feed her chinchilla when she was at work.
“What relevance is that?” I laughed.
“First of all, that level of commitment after a two-night stand is unnecessary, and you know I’m scared to death of rat type creatures.”
“Still not understanding the relevance.”
“I thought the fact she asked me to feed her chinchilla was crazy. So, I guess I’m not really one to judge.” She laughed.
“I don’t understand your chinchilla fear. Their faces are cute.”
“There is nothing cute about dog sized rats, Riley.”
Brittany loved to exaggerate. They weren’t nearly the size of dogs, cats maybe.
“So, what’s the plan?” Brittany asked.
I had a plan, sort of.
“Turn up, and pop the question,” I said, nonchalantly .
“I’m sorry, are you asking her to marry you or offering her a trial run at Baker’s Coffee House?” Brittany laughed.
Trial run sounded so—temporary. Amelia had more rights to the coffee house than me or Katherine. It was her legacy, and I’d been trying to think of ways to explain that without sounding creepy and overinvested.
“She’s at Cooper’s tonight, right?”
“Yes, with her mom.”
“And you’re sure going in there with a set of keys and a coffee-themed speech is the right thing to do?”
There was no coffee-themed speech, but now that she mentioned it, maybe there should be.
“No, I’m not sure, which is why I’m ringing you, and you’re not giving me the pep talk I need,” I groaned.
“I’m sorry. Let me start over.” Brittany coughed for dramatic effect. “I think you should enter in a blaze of glory, have Cooper play The Coffee Song by that guy, you know, the jazzy one who your grandma fancied.”
“Frank Sinatra?”
“Bingo... have him play that song! Then take centre stage, give Amelia your proposal, maybe put the keys in a jar filled with coffee beans and have her search for them? Or... I have an even better idea.” Brittany stopped talking, and all I heard was muffled breathing and what sounded like a garbage truck crushing waste.
“Ah-ha, I still have it—”
“What? Brittany, I can’t see what you’re doing,” I said.
“Hold on,” she mumbled.
“Look at the picture I sent you,” Brittany said.
I glanced at my incoming text messages, and sure enough there was a picture of Brittany wearing a black fedora and holding up a grey pinstripe suit .
“What on earth is that?” I laughed.
“It’s your Frank Sinatra outfit... I can steam it for you now if you like,” Brittany offered.
“Erm, no. You can keep that for whatever sexual fantasy it was intended.”
“Suit yourself.”
Brittany’s pep talk didn’t get much better from there on out. I eventually ended the phone call and continued to stare at the illuminated Bakers Coffee House sign. I pictured a row of colourful plant pots along the front, a few iron tables and chairs like the ones Mrs. Baker used to strategically place outside. A hot summer’s day called for coffee al fresco. I missed that.
The open and closed sign in the window had seen better days. It was weather-worn from the sun, so I had a local artist from the next town over create a new one. It arrived that morning, neatly wrapped in a sustainable gift bag and ready to hand over to Amelia should she agree to my proposal.
Proposal sounded so formal. If she rejected the idea of the coffee shop, was she rejecting me too? The thought was enough to make me drive home, hide the keys and the sign, and forget I ever considered the possibility, but I was stronger than that. Every decent motivational quote ever written basically alluded to the fact you had to be brave and take risks to reap the reward. I took one last look in my rearview mirror as I drove towards Cooper’s.
I pulled into the parking lot at Cooper’s. Weekdays were quiet, and there were only two other vehicles in the lot, one I recognised and one I did not. When you patrolled a town of a thousand residents on a daily basis, you quickly became familiar with the mundane, including most people’s modes of transportation. The shiny white Corvette was a rental, but it wasn’t Pamela Baker’s.
Or, maybe, she’d been to swap the Bentley Continental I’d seen her driving earlier that day. It wouldn’t be out of character. Pamela struck me as the particular type. Something as simple as an unusual interior scent would no doubt cause her to throw the keys back at the rental company like she’d just been handed a rusted old Honda.
My nerves were heightened due to Pamela’s presence. Asking Amelia to stay in town on a more permanent basis was terrifying but doing it whilst in the presence of her mother who so desperately wanted her to go back to Austin caused me more anxiety than any incident I’d ever attended as an officer.
What the hell are you thinking?
The singular sentence repeated itself in my head a thousand times on the drive over. I walked towards the familiar entrance. The sun had set completely, so the string lights and gas lamps illuminated the outdoor area. When I saw Amelia, instantly, there was a warmth that engulfed my body. The soft glow of the lights highlighted the sparkle in her eyes. My heart swelled, and I knew in that moment that I was making the right decision. I was distracted by her effortless beauty. A mix of excitement and longing consumed me.
I am falling in love with you.
The words sat on the tip of my tongue, ready to supersede any coffee shop proposal. It wasn’t until I took a few steps closer that the scene unfolded. My fixation on Amelia and her captivating laughter caused me to ignore the very presence of—a man?
Amelia wasn’t having dinner with her mom. My mind raced. Who was this guy? Was she in danger? She couldn’t be. She was laughing. Was it an old friend? Her brother? I knew she had a younger brother, maybe he had decided to accompany his mom.
I scanned the restaurant, only a server and two other couples were visible. Pamala was nowhere to be seen. The interaction made me uncomfortable. Amelia looked interested but uptight, like she was desperately trying not to let her guard down. I considered turning around. I was fairly concealed by the shadows beside the parking lot. I could walk away unnoticed and ask questions later, but I was too intrigued.
I remained composed and approached the table. Amelia looked up as I drew near. A flicker of recognition crossed her face followed by concern. I could sense the immediate unease in her demeanour as she shifted awkwardly in her chair.
I offered a strained smile.
“Riley,” Amelia greeted. “What are you doing here?”
The face of the man looked directly at me before averting his gaze. The tension in the air was obvious.
“I came to talk to you about something, but—” I held the gift bag containing the sign behind my back.
“Are you not going to introduce us?” I asked.
The man stood and extended his hand. “Mason, nice to meet you.”
“Riley,” I finished.
He was confident, maybe a little arrogant in the way he smirked. His appearance was rather confusing, but the expensive watch on his wrist indicated the Corvette must be his.
Mason—her brother was Alexander.
“Riley, this is . . . erm,” Amelia stalled .
“Her fiancé,” Mason added.
My heart sank.
“Ex,” Amelia corrected. “Mason is my ex-fiancé.”
“You’re right, apologies, old habits.” Mason held his hands up. He was enjoying the awkward exchange.
Amelia was flustered. Her eyes darted nervously between the two of us.
Why hadn’t she told me about Mason? There had been multiple opportunities to divulge such information, and she chose not to. That concerned me.
“Riley, I can explain,” Amelia said.
I smiled, hesitantly. I was used to keeping my composure, but trying to maintain a facade of calm in the current situation proved difficult.
“You don’t need to explain.” I nodded.
“It’s not what it looks like. My mom, she forced Mason to come here, but we talked, and he knows it was the wrong choice,” Amelia stressed.
Mason, a picture of composure, watched our exchange with a knowing glint in his eye.
“He doesn’t look like he was forced to be here,” I muttered. I shouldn’t have said it, but the subtle smirk on his lips made my blood boil.
“Mason, tell her,” Amelia sent him a ferocious look, but he didn’t flinch.
“Tell her what?” Mason asked.
“Tell her you don’t want to be here.”
“I’d be lying,” Mason countered.
“Mason! You literally just agreed with me! What the hell,” Amelia fumed.
“You two have clearly got some things to figure out,” I said .
“Riley, it isn’t what it looks like. I should’ve told you, but I never expected this, and I never thought I’d want to stay here with you,”
“Wait, are you two—” Mason’s head swung back and forth between us––“like, together?”
“No,” I said.
Amelia recoiled.
I was acutely aware of the divide between us. It felt like me against them, so I retreated into defence mode.
“Riley, I wanted to tell you,”
“No, you didn’t. You only want to tell me now because I’ve witnessed this.” I waved back and forth between Amelia and the table of delicious home-cooked food. “I’m really sorry I disturbed your romantic dinner.”
“It isn’t like that,” Amelia challenged. “We were just saying goodbye.”
“I don’t think a candlelit dinner is required for that, but maybe that’s how things are done in Texas.” I shrugged.
“This kind of feels like you’re together,” Mason observed.
“Shut up, Mason!” Amelia fumed.
“I kind of wish your mom would’ve told me you were a lesbian before I flew out here to try and win you back,” Mason laughed.
“You’re such an asshole,” Amelia snapped.
“So, you did come out here to win her back?” I challenged. “And you’re just sat having dinner with him and entertaining it?”
“I’m not entertaining anything.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Amelia. I watched you laughing and joking. Are you getting back togethe r with him?”
“No!”
“I don’t believe you,” I challenged.
They had a shared history I was unable to compete with, and that alone was enough to send me hurtling back to the comfort of my porch, alone once again.
“We’re not together, so what does it matter?” Amelia fired back.
“We haven’t had that conversation yet, but you knew how I felt,”
“Felt?” Amelia asked.
“What are you asking me?”
“You said felt? That’s past tense,” she clarified.
“Well, I don’t exactly know how to feel now,” I said honestly.
I was hurt. I tried to hide it, but deep down I was crushed. The excitement that accompanied me into Cooper’s moments earlier had disappeared completely. The key to the coffee shop pressed against my leg. The coffee mug keyring I’d purchased to sit alongside it awkwardly protruded from my pocket. It burnt a metaphorical hole in my pocket as a reminder of what I set out to achieve that night.
“Is that it then? We’re finished before we even started?” Amelia asked.
I shrugged.
“I see.” She sat down, unable to look me in the eye.
“I think you need to figure out what it is you want if you haven’t already.”
“I know what I want,” Amelia mumbled.
“Does it involve me?” Mason chipped in.
“I can’t actually do this.” I turned and set off towards the parking lot. Cooper waved in my direction, but he must’ve sensed my discomfort because he immediately retracted his hand.
“Riley, wait!” Amelia’s voice echoed .
I didn’t stop. I wasn’t about to be some pawn in whatever game she was playing with her ex. Who was that guy? What did she see in someone so arrogant and unaware of normal social cues.
“Riley, please!” Her voice grew closer.
I launched the gift bag into the back of the cruiser and spun around.
“What?” I yelled.
“Can I come over later, please? I will explain everything.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I sighed.
I climbed into the driver’s seat. Amelia held the door open, her eyes pleading for a resolution.
“You didn’t tell me, Amelia. We have spent so much time together, and you failed to tell me you had a fiancé?”
“Ex,” Amelia corrected.
“Barely. Clearly it didn’t end that long ago, or he wouldn’t be here. How can I trust you now?”
“You can trust me.”
“I don’t think I can. If you keep something as important as an ex-fiancé from me, what else are you hiding?”
“Riley,” her voice cracked.
I shook my head, my voice barely above a whisper, as I struggled to find the words. “I need to go.”
“Please,” she pleaded.
My gaze fixed on the dashboard. My heart was breaking with each passing moment. She reached out to touch my arm. My resolve hardened. I turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life.
“I can’t do this, Amelia.”
I closed the door, put the car in drive, and pulled away. I watched Amelia in my rearview mirror. She didn’t move, arms folded across her chest. I had to fight every urge to turn around.
I didn’t want to leave her standing there, quite the opposite, but I had no choice. I had been forced into submission. My whole body cried out for her. My eyes filled until the tears spilled out, and I had to pull over down the road to compose myself. I didn’t want this, but I couldn’t afford to be reckless. She withheld information and she lied, two deal-breakers in my eyes, but it didn’t make the conclusion any easier to accept.
The night I originally had planned should’ve been the foundation of our life together. Everything made sense. Now nothing made sense.
How was I supposed to process that?
I pulled the coffee shop keys from my pocket and tossed them into the driver’s side compartment. I was ready to take a chance, a big leap of faith that would supersede anything else I had ever done. I’d been a lone wolf until Amelia made me feel something more.
What was I supposed to believe now?
Would Amelia move back to Austin with her mother and Mason? The thought made me climb from my car and hurl violently at the side of the road.