Chapter 8 Eliza
Eliza
The early afternoon lull was settling in at the Coffee Cabin when I saw him--Graham, striding up like he hadn’t spent the last year tearing through my heart.
My stomach twisted, my hands clenched the counter, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe.
Same confident posture, same award-winning smile, same smug charm, and yet I wanted nothing more than to turn and run the other way.
Or hurl every coffee cup on the shelf at him.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark blond hair that never seemed to fall out of place and a jawline so sharp it could slice through ego and expectation alike.
He had that polished, confident look that made people trust him without question, and a smile that could sell lies wrapped in velvet.
“Afternoon, Eliza,” he said smoothly, like we were old friends instead of awkward exes. “Heard the coffee here is the best in town.”
My smile was automatic, professional. “We haven’t burned the place down yet, so I guess that’s something.”
Behind me, Grandma gave a small hum as she wiped down the pastry case. She hadn’t looked up, but I could feel her curiosity brewing stronger than the espresso.
“I’ll have a tall drip, whatever’s fresh, and maybe something sweet,” Graham said, leaning slightly on the counter.
“I’m fresh out of sweet,” I muttered under my breath as I turned to pour his coffee, wishing he would leave.
“What was that?”
I smiled again, wider this time. “Nothing. We’ve got lemon scones and almond croissants.”
“Perfect. I’ll take one of each. I love trying new things.”
I handed him the bag and cup right as the back door opened and Cara walked in, holding a shopping bag from her bookstore.
“Well, look who’s back in town,” she said brightly, her gaze landing on Graham as she stepped up behind me at the window.
He turned with his politician-level charm and extended a hand over the counter. “Cara Darlington. You haven’t changed a bit.”
She laughed. “Liar. But I’ll take it. Last I heard, you were some big shot up in Portland. What are you doing back in Honeybrook Hollow? I heard the new restaurant opening up is yours.”
“It is. Right across from the library. Hoping to bring a little fine dining flair to town.”
Cara’s eyes sparkled. “We could use some of that. Everyone’s already talking about it.”
“Yeah,” a customer in line said dryly. “It’s the hot topic in town for sure.” My eyebrows shot up. Maybe I wasn’t the only one not thrilled to have Graham in town.
They ignored me, chatting like old classmates at a reunion. Which, technically, they were. I busied myself straightening napkins and resisting the urge to roll my eyes so hard they got stuck.
Graham thanked me again, nodded politely to Grandma, and left with a wink I pretended not to notice.
“Wow.” Cara turned to me, smiling. “He’s still as good looking as he was back in school.”
“Mmhmm.” I mumbled.
“You sure you don’t want to date him?”
I nearly choked on air. “Why would you even ask that? Maybe you should date him.”
“No. He’s not my type.” She shrugged. “He’s yours. Broody. Tall. Slightly arrogant.”
“Well, thanks. That’s flattering. And that’s not my type anymore. Not for a long time.”
Grandma chuckled softly, carrying an order to the window.
Cara leaned on the counter, watching me closely. “You know, he was always very charming. Just saying.”
I busied myself with wiping down the counter again. “You want a latte or just gossip today?”
“I’ll take a latte and a walk with Grandma. We’re heading down to the bookstore for book club. You should come after you lock up.”
“Maybe.” Nope.
The book club gathered in the cozy back corner of Cara’s bookstore, a mismatched circle of plush chairs and tea-stained mugs.
Most members were seniors, including Joyce, who I now knew was Nate’s grandma, whose laugh always rose above the rest. The meeting was a mix of gossip and literature—discussions of neighbors and grandkids blended with lively debates about the monthly mystery novel.
Someone always brought a new blend of herbal tea, and the conversation often wandered from plot twists to whose son was dating whose daughter, before looping back to the book—come to think of it, that’s where they probably hatched their plan to get Nate to come to the Coffee Cabin and meet me.
Needless to say, Cara’s book club was less about the reading and more about the company, stories, and secrets shared over steaming cups and dog-eared pages. I’d attended a few times. But now that I had this whole Graham secret to deal with, I’d be staying far away from their prying eyes.
I made her a latte and watched the two of them leave, chatting and laughing like Graham hadn’t just charmed the pants off the place.
By the time I was locking up, the last few cars had gone through the drive-thru with their usual oddball orders—triple-shot soy caramel latte with no caramel, decaf espresso over ice with oat milk foam.
The espresso machine hissed out its last bit of steam, echoing the unease quietly brewing in my chest. I wiped my hands on a towel, stalling, letting the silence wrap around me as the distant sound of laughter faded from the street outside.
With everyone gone, the place felt too large for my worries and the secret pressing against my ribcage.
Inside, it was quiet again. Peaceful. But not empty.
Because now, Graham was back in my life.
And judging by the way he’d looked at me, he was going to make it a thing.
But the worst part wasn’t that he was here in town.
It was that I hadn’t told anyone, I’d kept it a secret exactly like he wanted.
And it felt like something he would relish in holding over my head with every charming and polite wave he bestowed upon my family.
I shut off the lights and locked the door. Remy and Linguini would be waiting for me at home. I just needed one night of peace before everything got complicated. Or until I spilled my guts about what an idiot I had been over him.
Outside, the sun was setting in honeyed streaks over the rooftops, casting a glow across the parking lot as I stepped out with my keys in hand.
I wasn’t even halfway to my car when I noticed him.
Leaning against the hood of a glossy black SUV parked two spaces over from my old Beetle was Graham.
Perfect posture, that expensive coat, and a smile that seemed to suggest he thought he’d get whatever he wanted from me.
“Hey,” he said, like this was normal. Like we had ever been normal.
I stopped short. “Why are you standing by my car?”
He raised a hand in a mock-surrender gesture. “Didn’t want to bother you while your family was around, since they obviously don’t know about us. Thought I’d catch you after work. I wanted to talk to you.”
Of course, he did. And of course, he’d waited. If Cara and my grandma were around, he couldn’t reveal his true personality and attempt to bully me into giving in to whatever he wanted.
“About?” I asked, not moving.
He looked around, as if to say, Right here? In public? “I need to clear the air. We’re going to be neighbors, kind of. I thought it’d be good if we weren’t tense around each other. It would also be good if we kept things under wraps. Right?”
I crossed my arms. “We’re not neighbors.
You’re opening a restaurant across from the library.
I run a drive-thru coffee shack. This isn’t an episode of Friends.
” I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “Good God, no, I don’t plan on telling anyone.
I can’t imagine anything I’d want less than to broadcast our little arrangement to everyone I know.
” I grimaced, a full-body shiver working through me, as I let the sarcasm drip from every word, hoping he’d finally catch the message.
For a brief heartbeat, the charm vanished, and its place was a flicker of something cooler, like he wasn’t used to anyone denying him in such a way.
But just as quickly, he shrugged, masking it with his usual polish, and chuckled.
“That sarcasm was always adorable. Good to know some things haven’t changed. ”
I rolled my eyes, smirking, feeling the tiniest surge of satisfaction. He could pretend all he wanted, but I knew the moment had landed exactly where it should. I was opening my mouth to deliver a line that would absolutely shut him down when a familiar voice called across the lot.
“Eliza!” It was Tilly.
I turned. Nate and Tilly were coming from the sidewalk, cutting across the corner of the lot on their way to the park.
Tilly was holding Nate’s hand, her bright blue jacket zipped all the way to her chin, strawberry blonde ponytail bouncing with each step.
Lois trotted alongside them, leash in Nate’s other hand, her tail wagging with what looked like equal enthusiasm and judgment.
Dogs definitely could sense evil, or at least jerks.
Of course.
The difference between the two of them couldn’t have been more striking. Nate wasn’t polished, hiding behind a facade of kindness. He was actually kind. Nate was real.
Where Graham’s confidence was calculated, Nate’s was quiet and unassuming.
He didn’t charm people—he saw them. Heard them.
Remembered their favorite pie flavors and the names of their dogs.
And when he looked at me, it wasn’t with that practiced gleam that Graham always had in his eyes.
Nate looked at me like he was trying to memorize every expression I made—or at least that’s how it had always felt.
Nate slowed when he saw us—me and Graham, frozen in the parking lot. His eyes flicked from Graham to me, and something shifted behind them. Polite. Guarded.
Great.
Tilly, on the other hand, had no sense of awkwardness. She tugged on Nate’s hand and marched straight toward us like she was on a mission.
“Hi, Eliza!” she said brightly. “Lois wanted to say hi, too!”
Lois barked once in agreement and wagged her entire body.