Chapter 24 Elliot
Billie has been eyeing me dubiously from the coffee machine since the moment I rushed into the café.
I hurried back to Cinnamon Springs, knowing Billie would need to open on her own. It’s not unheard of for one of us to open by ourselves in the morning, but I preferred not to put her in that position since she’s been working long hours.
The roads out were quiet, with the opposite side heading into the city just one big traffic jam. I made it back in record time, thanks to the caffeine hit I had before leaving. It’s incredible what a triple espresso can do after a lack of sleep.
As soon as I got in, thirty minutes ago, I drank another short espresso, so now my body is buzzing.
“A pleasure to see you today, Mrs. Winthrop.” I greet her with an endearing smile to keep up appearances. “Just your usual English Breakfast tea to go, with two jelly donuts?”
Mrs. Winthrop gives a slight nod of acknowledgment. She owns the bookstore in town and visits daily. I overheard Billie and Madelina talking about her one day, complaining about her lack of romance titles. During these conversations, I tend to zone out.
“A sweet lad, to remember my order.” Mrs. Winthrop’s chin tilts upward defiantly, creating an air of aloofness that feels anything but welcoming. “I heard your sister is still in the city?”
“It comes with the territory,” I answer politely, then nod. “Yes, she is. In fact, she’s expecting a child.”
Her eyes widen in excitement. “Well, isn’t that something!”
“Yes, it’s an exciting time for her and her fiancé,” I quickly reiterate, sensing the judgment in her tone. “Let me get your order ready so you can get on with your day.”
Dammit, why did I have to go and say anything? Eva was already on the fence about telling me, and there was no further discussion about whether other people should know.
My regret follows me to the coffee machine, where Billie is finishing up a takeout order.
“No offense, but you look like you’ve just survived a zombie apocalypse,” Billie points out, but her tone is soft with concern. “Do you want me to make you another coffee?”
“Thank you, but I think I need to slow down on the caffeine intake.” I sigh, trying to calm the tremors in my hands. “I might grab a quick bite to eat out back. And thanks for your honesty, I do feel like I’ve survived a zombie apocalypse.”
“Go, eat,” Billie urges. “I’m perfectly capable out front.”
I remove my apron, make myself a club sandwich, and sit in the small office to eat.
Above the computer is a pinboard with pictures of Eva, Billie, Chloe, and Madelina.
None of them are serious, just images of them pulling faces and goofing around.
A smile lingers on my lips as I observe Madelina so carefree and happy.
My mind wanders back to last night. I told Aston and Madelina I was going to fetch my bike from the parking garage and would join them later, but the solitude welcomed me, and the last thing I wanted was to “talk” back at Aston and Eva’s apartment.
I found myself wandering through the city’s quiet streets, trapped in a loop of thought.
With my hands in my pockets and no purpose in my direction, it wasn’t long before I reached the serene greenery of Bryant Park.
I lingered, enjoying the peace and quiet, but then continued my walk until I was immersed in the chaos of Times Square.
It came as no surprise that it was full of people despite the very late hour, mainly tourists and street performers trying to earn a buck.
The lights flickered and pulsed as if trying to steal my sanity, which had me wanting out very quickly.
I thrive in silence, and Times Square is anything but silent.
With the final bite of my sandwich, I go ahead and clean up before heading back out to help Billie.
While we are accustomed to serving our regulars, there were many new faces in the café today.
Billie mentioned that it was because of an article in the New York Times about where to find a real estate bargain, and it listed Cinnamon Springs among the top five places to buy property.
It explains why there are many families with young children.
As someone who grew up here for most of my life, it isn’t that bad.
My parents kept things pretty low-key, so in some ways, we were sheltered from city life.
However, when it comes to opportunities, Cinnamon Springs is a place where you have to work hard for success.
It doesn’t come as easily as it does in Manhattan or Paris, where opportunity is everywhere.
“So, I’ve been chatting to some tourists. They love it here so much, they’re thinking about relocating, raising their kids here,” Billie tells me as she plates another serving of donuts for table eight. “That’ll be good for business. Kids love donuts. It wouldn’t hurt to have more of them around.”
“Sure, it’s a nice town,” I say nonchalantly.
Billie stills her movements, observing me with a knowing grin. “Has the Paris chef fallen in love with a small town?”
I press my lips together. “I’m just saying, it’s a nice place. I can see why parents want to raise their families here.”
“Speaking of raising families… you went to spend the night at Eva’s?”
“Yes…”
Billie continues with a raised brow. “You went to the city, and so did Maddy.”
“What’s your point?” I shoot back, irritation creeping into my tone.
“And Nicole is…” She trails off, her voice more tentative now. “You don’t have to answer, or want to talk about this. But I’m here, Elliot, to listen if you need an ear. I’m not playing the pity card, but when my mom was sick, it was good to have friends who would listen. No judgment.”
I pivot to meet her gaze, crossing my arms defiantly over my chest, but then my stance softens.
I’m not one to discuss my personal life, preferring to keep things private, but Billie is someone I have come to trust. Given that she is removed from the situation, perhaps I can gain some outside perspective.
“Nicole is most likely flying back to Paris.”
With a gentle push, Billie guides me into the kitchen, but doesn’t stray far, keeping a watchful eye on the customers. “So, yesterday, Nicole strolled in here asking for her boyfriend. Now she’s heading back to Paris, solo? What does that mean?”
I rake a hand through my tousled hair, the weight of her words pressing down on me. “We were on a break. No more confusion.”
“How very Ross and Rachel of you,” Billie replies, a teasing lilt in her voice. “So, were there specifics to this break?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, my heart racing as I brace for her next question. “I don’t like where you’re going with this.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she states adamantly. “I have observed things, and those observations will remain with me for now. I get it, it’s hard to confess feelings, so this mindfuck you’re in… it’s understandable.”
I rest my palms firmly on the cool countertop, feeling its smooth surface beneath my fingertips.
Slowly, I lower my head, allowing the weight of the day to pull me down.
The tension has reached every part of me, so I gently stretch to ease the tightness and worry.
My muscles begin to unwind, but the reality still lingers between us.
What am I supposed to confess to Billie?
That I’ve slept with Madelina and can’t get her out of my head? And the thought of another man touching her drives me to insanity?
Or how everything I’ve ever worked for is possibly waiting for me in Paris. But now, I’m questioning my entire life’s choices?
Billie gently places her hand on my shoulder. “Hey, whatever is meant to be will be. Right now, you need to rest. Just head home, and I’ll close up. Sleep will bring some clarity.”
I nod, knowing she’s right. Every part of me aches, and a few hours’ sleep will help me get a better grip on the situation, especially since I agreed to dinner with Madelina tonight.
“You’re right,” I say, a much-needed yawn following. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Do you believe in right place, right time?”
“Yeah.” Billie sighs with a smile on her face. “You just gotta follow your gut and let the universe take care of the rest.”
A quick knock on the door is all it takes before it swings open, revealing Madelina with a broad, mischievous grin spilling across her face.
She’s in a snug tank top that reads “I Like My Books Spicy and Coffee Icy,” the fabric tight against her tits and exposing her belly button.
Below, she’s wearing loose white linen shorts, but my focus is on how her tits bounce with her every movement.
Fuck, how am I already hard?
“So, you like your books spicy?” I ask, teasingly.
Madelina’s eyes shimmer playfully. “Don’t you?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever read a spicy book,” I reply, feigning innocence. “The authors I read tend to steer clear of anything romance-related. They’re all about beheading victims or solving some mysterious disappearance.”
With a spirited tug, Madelina takes my hand, her fingers warm and inviting as she pulls me into my sister’s apartment. “Oh, then I have some work to do. You have no idea what you’re missing out on. The smut, the tropes. Tell me, what are you in the mood for?”
The question is left open to interpretation, and my interpretation is that if Madelina were to stand before me, naked, what wouldn’t I be in the mood for?
“You’re asking me what I’m in the mood for?” I question with an arched brow.
She nods, a slight innocence in her eyes. “Yeah, what floats your boat?”
My gaze fixates on hers, a teasing smirk on my lips. “All of it. Nothing’s off-limits.”
“Interesting,” she replies with a soft chuckle. “I’m starving. The pizza should be here any minute. Let’s eat first.”
“Sure, everyone needs stamina.”
“Are you going to behave yourself? We’re trying to get to know each other on a different level,” she reminds me, her voice light yet coy.
“I already know you on the most important level,” I tell her, my eyes falling to her chest. “The rest is icing on a very sexy cake.”