Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Cooper
“That’s the last of the dishes,” Aaron called. Soft beeps echoed through the kitchen as he pressed buttons on the dishwasher’s control panel. The teenager had been working at The Coffee Cove after school for nearly six months, and I appreciated his efficiency.
I gave the pastry case one final inspection to ensure it was spotless. “Thanks. I’ll finish up here if you want to head out.”
“You sure?” He emerged from the kitchen and glanced at the clock. “It’s getting late.”
“I’m sure.” I flashed him what I hoped was a reassuring smile.
The truth was, after the POS system fiasco that morning, I needed some quiet time to think. Jack had gotten it working again, but his concerned expression had left me uneasy. The upcoming dinner with my family only added to my anxiety.
“See you tomorrow, then.” Aaron grabbed his backpack from beneath the counter.
Once he was gone, I locked the door behind him. The evening hush of The Coffee Cove settled around me: no hissing espresso machine, no chatter of customers, just the low hum of the refrigerators and the occasional creak of the old building.
I wiped down the counters one more time, more out of habit than necessity. The shop was immaculate—I made sure of that—but the repetitive motion helped calm my nerves. The morning rush, the system crash, Ryan’s visit…it had been quite a day.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Jack.
On my way. Burritos + chips + salsa in hand. ETA 10 min.
I smiled at his text. Somehow, Jack always knew when I needed food. I texted back a quick thumbs-up emoji and went to the back office to pull out the financial paperwork I’d been avoiding all weekend.
The numbers were daunting. While The Coffee Cove was doing well, the loan I’d taken out to buy the place from my former boss loomed large. Every unexpected expense—like repairs to a POS system—made my stomach knot with apprehension.
A sharp knock at the front door pulled me from my intimidating calculations.
Jack stood outside, a brown paper takeout bag in one hand, two craft beers hooked in the other, and a messenger bag slung over his shoulder.
His honey-brown hair was windblown, and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled through the glass.
Whenever Jack flashed that familiar crooked grin of his—the one where the left corner of his mouth lifted just a bit higher than the right—something warm unfurled in my chest. It was my best friend’s smile, familiar and comforting, with its perfect imperfection that had become more dear to me over the years than any carefully practiced smile.
I unlocked the door. “Perfect timing. I was just about to start stress-eating the leftover biscotti.”
“Tempting, but I thought you deserved better.” Jack stepped inside, and instantly, the warm, spicy aroma of grilled meat, cumin, and slow-roasted salsa filled the shop. “Besides, that biscotti is basically drywall.”
“Hey! Some people like a good crunch.” I relocked the door behind him.
“I got you the chicken burrito—no cheese, extra guac. Plus, chips and this smoky chipotle salsa that made me rethink my whole life.”
I laughed, even as my stomach growled at the scent. “You’re a dangerous man, Anderson.”
“Only to good food and unsecured networks.” He set the bag and beers on the table, and I grabbed plates and napkins from behind the counter, along with a bottle opener for the beers.
We unwrapped our food, and the mingled scents of seasoned rice, lime, and roasted chilis wrapped around me like a warm blanket.
I sat and took a bite, the citrusy tang of guacamole giving way to savory grilled chicken and just a hint of heat from the salsa.
The crunch of chips followed by the smoky richness of tomato and charred pepper hit all the right notes. Comfort food, wrapped in foil.
Jack dug into his carnitas burrito with the enthusiasm of a man who hadn’t eaten since breakfast. “God, this place is a hidden gem. The pork’s perfectly tender, like it spent the day sleeping in a slow cooker.”
We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. Outside, the streetlights cast a golden glow through the front windows. A few pedestrians hurried past, collars turned up against the evening chill.
“So…” I wiped my hands on a napkin. “About this morning…”
Jack swallowed his bite. “Yeah. We need to talk about that.”
“I’m going to call the repair service tomorrow. They handle all our equipment maintenance.”
Jack shook his head, his expression serious. “This isn’t a maintenance issue, Coop. Someone hacked your system.”
The burrito suddenly lost its appeal, settling heavy in my stomach. “Hacked? You mean like…deliberately?”
“Yes.” Jack wiped his hands and pulled his laptop from his bag. “Mind if I show you?”
I nodded and nudged the burrito aside to make room. Jack opened his computer and began typing, his fingers moving with practiced speed.
“You said Ben set up your system, right?” he asked, not looking up from the screen.
The mention of my ex-boyfriend made me wince. “Yeah. About a year ago, right after I bought the place. He did all the technical stuff—computers, website, social media accounts.”
“And does he still have access to any of it?”
I hesitated. “I never thought about that.”
Jack’s expression remained neutral, but a muscle in his jaw visibly tightened. “So he knows your password?”
“Probably,” I admitted. “I haven’t changed it. It’s the same one I use for most things.”
Jack stopped typing and peered at me through his black-framed glasses. “Cooper McKay. Tell me you don’t use the same password for everything.”
My face heated. “Not everything. Just…most things.”
“Let me guess. Is it ‘TheCoffeeCove’ followed by the year we graduated college?”
My embarrassment deepened. “With an exclamation point at the end,” I said sheepishly.
Jack pressed his palms against his forehead. “You’re killing me, Coop. That’s like leaving your biscotti out for the seagulls.”
“Okay. Okay.” I laughed despite the stress. “Some of us didn’t take Advanced Cybersecurity 301.”
Jack’s expression softened. “I’m not blaming you. But we need to fix this, and fast.” He turned his laptop toward me. “Look at this. I just hacked into your system. It was way too easy.”
Jack pointed to lines of code on the screen that might as well have been hieroglyphics.
“These are traces of unauthorized access to your system. Someone got in, looked around, and then triggered that crash this morning.”
A chill ran down my spine. “Why would anyone do that?”
“Could be random,” Jack said, though his tone suggested he didn’t believe it. “But this level of sophistication suggests otherwise. This wasn’t some kid messing around. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. They were disrupting your business.”
I sank back in my chair. “Great. So I’ve got some mysterious hacker after me.”
Jack reached across the table and squeezed my shoulder. “Hey. You’re not alone in this. I’m going to help you.”
His touch was reassuring, warm through the fabric of my shirt.
Jack had always been my rock, ever since we’d met during our sophomore year at Brewed Awakening.
Through the stress of finals, my parents’ rejection when I came out, buying the coffee shop, every heart-wrenching breakup, especially with Ben—Jack had been there for all of it.
“I know,” I said quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Something flickered in Jack’s blue eyes—a fleeting shadow of emotion so swift I nearly missed it. Was that…longing? My breath caught in my throat.
Throughout our years together, I’d occasionally catch glimpses of something more intense in his gaze. But surely, if Jack had harbored deeper feelings all this time, he would have told me at some point during our sixteen years of friendship. I must have imagined the interest in his eyes.
The moment shattered as Jack turned back to the laptop. “First things first, we need to change all your passwords. And I mean all of them. Banking, email, social media, everything.”
“Now?” I glanced at the clock. It was past seven.
“Yes, now.” Jack was already typing again. “I’m also installing a more secure firewall and some security monitoring software I developed. It’ll alert me if anyone tries to access your network again.”
For the next hour, Jack methodically worked through my digital life, strengthening defenses I hadn’t known were weak.
I sat beside him and worked on my own laptop, changing all my passwords.
Jack’s brow furrowed when he focused, a small vertical line appearing between his eyebrows.
I’d seen that expression countless times over the years—during late-night study sessions, intense gaming marathons, heated discussions about movies or books.
That tiny crease had become one of my favorite things about him and left me suppressing a chuckle.
“There,” he said finally. He sat back with satisfaction and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Much better. Not impenetrable, but a hell of a lot stronger than it was.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Seriously, Jack. You’re the best friend I could ask for.”
He shrugged, avoiding my eyes. “That’s what friends are for, right?”
There was something in his voice I couldn’t quite place. A hint of…what? Resignation? Disappointment? Before I could analyze it further, he closed his laptop and began packing up.
“It’s getting late. I should head out so you can turn out the lights and get some sleep.” He hesitated a beat, then added, “Are we still on for gaming tomorrow night?”
I nodded, and the corner of my mouth tugged up. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Goodnight, Cooper.” His gaze lingered a beat longer than was strictly necessary.
“Night, Jack.” My voice came out quieter than I intended. I didn’t want him to go, but my morning started early.
He paused at the threshold and looked back at me. Something charged and vulnerable passed across his face before he quickly masked it with a crooked grin.
“Lock up behind me,” he said, and then he was gone, walking under the glowing streetlights toward his apartment.
I watched him until he passed beyond the windows and puzzled over that look—like he wanted to say something important but couldn’t find the words.
Was I misinterpreting his expression? My romantic intuition had the accuracy of a compass near a magnet, with Ben standing as the painful monument to my spectacular failure in reading between the lines. I’d completely missed all the signs that Ben had been cheating.
Was I doing it again? Those lingering glances, the way Jack’s eyes seemed to soften when they met mine—were they clues he wanted more than friendship, or was I inferring meanings that didn’t exist?
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I stowed my laptop, slid into my jacket, and turned off the lights. Tomorrow would bring new challenges: figuring out who had hacked my system, updating my staff’s passwords, and keeping The Coffee Cove running smoothly.