Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Magnolia
This Friday’s busier than it’s been previously at the retreat, and I can hardly keep up as customers form a line at my trailer. It’s a good problem to have, and I’m grateful for the business, but I’m so damn anxious for this weekend I can hardly focus.
It doesn’t help that this week has been an emotional rollercoaster, and I’ve felt a bit off. But I’ve been waiting for tonight with Tripp for the past several days and am not letting anything get in the way now.
I hand off a customer’s latte, and when I see the man standing behind her, an uneasy shiver runs through me.
He stands tall in an all-black suit, with his hands in his pockets and a sly smirk on his lips.
His gaze lowers down to my chest and then back up again.
Sugarland Creek’s population is two thousand, and most of the locals are ranchers, work on one, or own a small business.
And he doesn’t look like any of those. He’s even too dressed up to be one of the two lawyers in town.
Assuming he’s staying at one of the cabins here, he still sticks out like a sore thumb. Most of the guests come for horseback rides, mountain biking, fishing, or any of the other numerous outdoor activities they offer.
“Hello, welcome to Magnolia’s. How can I caffeinate you this mornin’?” I continue with my usual introduction to new customers.
“Good morning. Can I assume you’re Magnolia?” His little flirty tone has me eager to reach for my bag where I not only keep my taser but my new pepper spray and brass kitty knuckles. Even if they’re pink and sparkly, they could cause real harm when I need them to.
“Yep, the one and only.”
“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”
Without sounding dramatic, I’m certain my breakfast just came up my throat, but I force a smile and swallow it down.
“Thanks. How can I help you?”
“Just a black coffee, please.” He reaches into his suit coat and takes out his wallet. “Actually, those muffins are calling my name. I’ll get one of those, too.”
I smile because I spent three hours last night baking my new double-choco pumpkin-flavored muffins. At least the creepy stranger has good taste.
“Good pick. They’re perfect for the fall season, too.”
Even though Thanksgiving is next week and the town will turn into full-on Christmas mode, I’m holding onto these muffin fall flavors as long as I can.
Once I have his coffee and bagged pastry on the counter, I input his order into the cash register.
“That’ll be seven-fifty, please.”
He hands me a twenty. “Keep the change, Magnolia.”
I don’t like the way he says my name or holds onto the bill a second too long before releasing it. And I especially don’t like when he winks at me as if I’m in on some creepy secret.
But for the sake of staying professional, I thank him and put the rest in my tip jar.
“Have a great rest of your day,” I say, hoping he gets the hint to walk away.
When he finally does, I help the customer behind him but subtly watch as he goes to his blacked-out Denali.
Yeah, he’s definitely not from here.