Chapter Twenty-One
Chase
Annabelle wasn't taking my calls.
I'd been trying for three days and every time the phone either rang through to voicemail or sent me there immediately.
So not only wasn't she answering, she was actively declining my calls.
I'd fucked up. There was no other way to look at it.
If I'd been right and all she'd wanted was a one-night stand, she would have expected to go back to being friends. Instead, she was shutting me out.
Because I'd hurt her.
Because I'd seen what I'd expected to see instead of what was really there.
I'd been so sure she was going to walk out on me, so sure that night had been my only chance with her, that I'd shoved her right out the door.
Now I was on the other side, and she wouldn't let me back in.
Fucking idiot.
I hadn't worked up the nerve to confront her in the café. For one thing, according to Lise, the last time I'd seen her I'd made her cry. The café was her place of business. It was her livelihood. Her customers kept the lights on and she lived there.
I wanted to see her.
I really wanted to see her.
But I couldn't bring myself to upset her while she was working. I thought about showing up right at 8 o'clock when she was closing, but something held me back.
Maybe I was afraid she'd lock the door in my face. Hell, she probably would.
I texted to ask her to talk, said I thought I owed her an apology. I was sure she saw the messages, but she never answered.
I planned to give her a few more days, and then I was going for the full court press. I'd messed things up, but if that was true, then I could fix this.
I would fix this.
I wasn't giving up on Annabelle, and I was not going to walk away.
My family thought the situation was fucking hysterical.
Nosy bastards.
They took to poking fun at me whenever they could, asking if I needed coffee and did I want them to pick me up something from Annabelle's. They weren't creative, but they didn't have to be.
It still stung.
Vivi was the only one on my side, though she'd made it clear she was only on my side out of a lifetime of loyalty. Not because she thought I was right.
All she'd said was, "What were you thinking? It took a lot for her to let you in and then you threw her out the door? You're a moron. Do you want me to talk to her?"
That was my Vivi. Telling me how it was, and then offering to do whatever she could to make it better. She was a good sister, the best, but she couldn't fix this.
I was sitting at breakfast, ignoring both Aunt Amelia's taunts about getting a mocha and Vivi's sympathetic glances, when Lise's phone rang.
I was usually out the door and on the way to the office by then, but I'd been putting in late nights working on my new project. Anything to keep my mind off Annabelle.
I'd overslept.
Or not slept enough.
However you wanted to look at it, I was sleep deprived and running late. Mechanically shoveling scrambled eggs into my mouth between sips of coffee, I listened with half an ear as Lise said, "Hey."
Her voice was hesitant. Cautious, but friendly. The odd combination caught my attention and drew it further when she shot me a quick, wary glance, then deliberately looked away.
"What's going on? It sounds like a madhouse." She listened for a few minutes, then shoved the chair back from the table and stood up, not looking at any of us. "I'll be right there. Fifteen minutes, no more. Promise. Just hang on."
Going with my gut, I got up and followed her, grabbing her arm and turning her around before she reached the front door. "What's going on? What's wrong?"
Lise looked over my shoulder to the door, then at the ceiling, then my hand on her arm. I dropped it but asked again, "What's going on?"
"That was Annabelle. Grover and Penny ran off together. No notice, just didn't show up. Now she's alone over there in the middle of a rush and she has no staff. I worked cafés off and on for the last ten years. I know my way around a portafilter, and she asked if I could pitch in."
"I'm coming," I said.
Lise shook her head and stepped back. "Chase, I know you mean well, but she doesn't need—"
"She needs all hands on deck. I won't get in her face.
I won't push. But I know my way around the kitchen.
I can wash dishes. I can man the cash register.
I can clear tables. She has at least three people on during the day, and you know it.
Even with two of you, she's going to be slammed. I'm coming. I can help."
Lise sighed, shaking her head. "Okay, fine. We don't have time to fight about this and you're right."
Annabelle was not happy to see me walk in behind Lise. Her eyes went flat and blank, and she looked away, hiding her face from me.
My stomach turned over in a sour twist. My chest ached.
I'd done that to her. It didn't matter that I hadn't meant to.
I'd been so ready for her to hurt me that I'd hurt her first.
Fucking hell.
The first time she'd peeked her way through her shields and I'd fucked it up. Now she'd built them back up so tall I'd never get through again.
Let it go I told myself.
This wasn't about me.
This was about Annabelle and her fuckwad baristas who'd run off and left her alone during the morning rush.
I was here to help, not get in her face.
Lise went straight back behind the counter, grabbed an apron, and hit the espresso machine, falling into the rhythm of taking orders and making drinks as if she'd never left the job.
I stopped in front of Annabelle and said, "Register or dishes?"
She stared at me, blankly.
I tried again, saying gently, "Do you want me to work the register or do dishes?"
She blinked and swallowed hard, her voice cracking as she said, "Dishes. Grab one of the bins, bus the tables, and then do the dishes stacked up in the kitchen. Please."
I could handle that. The next few hours passed in a blur of sounds and smells.
The clink of the tableware, the unending murmur of voices, the hiss and puff of the espresso machine, the clang of Lise smacking the portafilter to loosen the ground espresso.
The ching of the register and the click of tip money filling the jar on the counter, all drowned out here and there by the rush and churn of water in the kitchen as I busted my ass to keep up with the demand for clean dishes.
I washed and restocked and cleared and washed again. It was the first day of a sidewalk arts festival in the Highlands and the café was twice as crowded as usual. It was one of the worst possible times for her idiot baristas to run off.
Things didn't slow down until mid-afternoon when Annabelle came in the kitchen and started putting plates together.
She didn't talk to me. She barely acknowledged me.
But when she was done, she slapped a plate holding a turkey sandwich, apple slices, and a salted caramel brownie on top of the dishwasher before she walked away.
She wouldn't speak to me, but she was still feeding me. That had to mean something, didn't it?
I wasn't optimistic enough to think that washing a few dishes in her time of need was going to fix things, but I was in for the long haul.
I was refilling the bakery case when I realized that Lise had gone home.
Why would she have left me alone with Annabelle? She'd made it clear whose side she was on in this mess.
When Annabelle had a break at the counter I asked, "Where did Lise go?"
"She had a date with Riley for dinner."
"Dinner?" I asked stupidly. What time was it?
Annabelle answered my unasked question. "It's almost six. You don't have to stay. I can handle the rest myself."
"I'll stay," I said.
"Chase, you don't—"
"I'll stay," I said again. "I'm not going to bother you. I'm not going to get in your way. But I'm going to stay and help, okay?"
Annabelle swallowed hard and nodded, but she didn't meet my eyes.
Shit. I didn't know how to fix this. Everything I said was the wrong thing. I wanted to tell her I was sorry. That I hadn't meant it. That I'd been an idiot.
She didn't need to hear that now, while she still had customers. While she still had two more hours before close and then all the work of shutting the place down.
What was she going to do the next day? And the day after that? It would take time to find new staff.
I'd worry about that later. For now, I had tables to bus and dishes to wash.
Eight o'clock came before I knew it. I was used to the café at this time of night, the ebb and flow of customers as people stopped shopping in favor of dinner or home.
The festival had the café packed right up until Annabelle ushered the last customer through the door. She flipped the lock, turned the sign, and sank onto the stool behind her in exhaustion.
I could imagine how she felt. I'd been on my feet all day, too, but I'd been in the back, doing my own thing. She'd been up front, charming customers, making everyone feel at home as she fed them and caffeinated them with a smile.
"Go up to bed," I said. "You look exhausted. I can close up."
“I look exhausted? How much sleep did you get last night?"
I was trying not to think about that. I leaned against the counter. "Enough. I've been working late on the project, but I got enough sleep. If this place is so crazy, when are you going to find the time to interview for new staff?"
Annabelle squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "Honestly? I haven't even thought about it. I have no idea."
"Fuck Grover and Penny," I said, startling a laugh from Annabelle. The sound was tired and faded, but it was a laugh.
"I'll come in tomorrow," I said.
Aiden, Gage, and my department would have to deal without me. We were almost ahead of schedule. A few days away wouldn't put us too far behind.
Even if it did, I didn't care. Annabelle needed me more than they did.
"Chase, you can't—"
"I can," I said. "Tomorrow you can run me through the register, and I can help with that, too. I know I can't pick up the espresso machine that fast, but I’ve handled a cash register before.”
Annabelle sagged even further and looked at the floor. My gut burned seeing her so tired. So defeated. The burn was worse for knowing I'd played a part in that.
The customers were gone, and we were alone. I couldn't leave it like this anymore.
"Annabelle, I'm sorry. I fucked up. I know I fucked up. I thought—"
"Chase, it's okay. It's okay. You don't have to explain. I get it."
"I don't think you do. I wanted you to stay and I thought you were leaving and I didn't think. I just… I was an asshole."
"Yeah, you kind of were."
A laugh shook her chest, but the sound was so far from her usual bright, rich laughter that it hurt to hear.
Annabelle shouldn't laugh like that, gray and dark and empty.
She sounded beat up. Alone.
I hated myself for it.
"You can go," she said, unintentionally echoing my words from the day after the wedding. "I can handle the rest by myself. You already did the dishes. I just have to wipe everything down and—"
"And sweep the floors and wipe down the tables and wash the floors and put the games away… I know all the stuff you have to do, Annabelle. Let me help."
Too tired to argue, she shrugged a shoulder and started to wipe down the tables in the front of the café. I decided to give her some space and try again when we were done.
We'd closed the place down together so many times, we worked in synchronicity without speaking a word. Her sweeping, me mopping, putting everything to rights for the next morning.
When we were finally done, Annabelle walked me down the hall to the back door, stopping at the base of the stairs to her tiny studio.
Looking up at me, finally meeting my eyes, she said, "You really don't have to come back tomorrow. I appreciate it but—"
"I'm coming back tomorrow, Annabelle. At least until you get some permanent help."
"But your job—"
"They can do without me. I make my own schedule, anyway."
Quietly, so quietly I almost didn't hear her, she said, "I don't think I can do that. Have you here all day again. I just… I need a little space before we can go back to how things were."
"I don't want to go back to how things were, Annabelle."
"We have to. We have to go back or we can't go anywhere."
"Why? I messed up. I know I did, and I'm sorry. I got angry and I lashed out and—"
"I know," Annabelle said. "I know. And I can't do that again. I don't want that. That's the way it was before with Tommy. Everything would be fine and then he'd get upset about something I didn't even know I did and he'd lose it. He'd say things—"
Her voice choked off and she blinked hard. I sensed it was an act of courage when she raised her chin and met my eyes again.
"I can't live like that, Chase. Always wondering what I'm going to do wrong next. Always tiptoeing around hoping I don't set you off. It's too much. It's too hard. Everything that happened with us made me think of everything I want to leave behind me."
"Everything?" I heard myself ask, reeling from being compared to her asshole of an ex-husband.
I hadn't thought about what happened from her perspective. Hadn't realized what that must have felt like. She'd told me about her marriage, told me what he was like, but still, I hadn't seen it.
I have a temper, it's true. But the way I'd lashed out at Annabelle, jumped to conclusions and hurt her feelings—that almost never happened. I was a grown man and I was usually adult enough to keep my temper in check.
One slip, one time, and it was the very worst time to let go of the reins.
Again, I said "Everything? Did everything remind you of him?"
Reaching up, I cupped her chin in one hand and turned her face to mine, pain slicing through my heart at the sight of her wet eyelashes, dark and spiky against her pale cheeks.
She didn't step back.
Didn't pull away.
When I lowered my face and pressed my mouth to hers, she opened for me, kissing me back as if we'd never been apart. As if I'd never driven her off and lost her just when I thought I'd found her.
She pulled away before I was ready, pressing her palm to my chest, moving me back until feet separated us.
"I can't, Chase. I can't do this again. I'm sorry. I wanted to, and I'm sorry. I need you to go."
Annabelle pushed gently, backing me closer to the door. I wasn't going to make it harder for her.
She was a woman alone in an empty building with a man who she wanted gone.
If she wanted me gone, I'd go. That didn't mean I wouldn't be back.
I turned for the door saying only, "I’ll see you tomorrow, Annabelle," before I walked out into the street, hearing the door close and lock behind me.
With a laugh, I realized my ride had abandoned me hours before, and I didn't have a way to get home.
Pulling my phone from my back pocket I opened a rideshare app and resigned myself to a wait.
In more ways than one.