24
Aidan
The following afternoon, I arrive at Triple C a few minutes early to find Dan sitting at a table on the front porch of the café. I’m not surprised he’s here early. Despite being a shitty father in every other way, he was early to every event I had growing up.
“Hey Dan,” I say. Anxiety makes my limbs heavy as I walk up to him.
“Aidan.” He rises and goes to open his arms like he wants to hug me but freezes.
For a brief second, I consider not accepting his embrace. Honestly, I think this is the first time that my father has offered me any sort of physical affection, other than the occasional pat on the back.
I think of Charlotte and what she would do. She would probably crush his ribs in a massive hug. Sighing, I open my arms and step to him. As we touch, he stiffens but softens into it after a heartbeat. He taps me on the back twice and steps back.
“Glad you found the place.” I gesture to the café behind him.
Dan shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, which seem oddly casual for him.
He gestures to the café and the town square.
“It’s a nice little town.” He opens his mouth to say more, but nothing comes out.
After a few seconds, he releases the breath he was holding and remarks, “Look, Aidan, I, uh, well.” He lifts his arm up to rake his hand through his hair in a gesture that I suddenly realize resembles something I do.
“I’m not good at this shit. This whole being a decent dad thing. I’m sorry.”
Something in my chest eases. “Let’s start with coffee. We’re both good at that.”
He responds with a chuckle.
The café is quieter today, with only a few people on the first floor and no line at the register.
It smells of coffee and strawberries. My stomach grumbles as I gaze at the glowing case of pastries and baked goods.
Afternoon sun pours in from the old windows.
The espresso machine whirs while the patrons maintain a low hum of conversation.
But there’s something else playing over the speakers.
“Is that metal?” Dan asks, turning to me.
“Yes,” I reply, resisting the urge to vibrate along to the bass and guitar. Metal is a little too hardcore for me, but I appreciate it. “Liam must have nicked Nicole’s phone again and switched the playlist.”
The man himself is currently bobbing his head along to the music. Thankfully, his long hair is pulled into a bun.
My father raises an eyebrow and puts his hands on his hips. “You know the people who work here?”
“I come in here regularly.”
Dan eyes the menu for a few seconds. “What do you usually get?”
“Maple cinnamon latte,” Liam quips, not missing a beat with his head nodding. “And a bacon, egg, and cheese on an asiago bagel in the morning.”
I let out a chuckle and turn to Dan with a half-smile “What can I say. I have a usual.”
“Is that what you’re going to have?” he asks me.
“Yes, it’s pretty good.”
With a determined nod, Dan steps forward, “Two maple cinnamon lattes then, but we’ll skip the sandwiches.” He glances back at me and flashes me a closed mouth smile. He slaps a ten-dollar bill on the counter. “I’ve got it.”
I reach for my own wallet.
My father quirks an eyebrow and holds up his hand to stop me. “No, I’ve got it.”
I open my mouth to argue, but Liam settles it by snatching up the bill. “I’ll have those ready in a few minutes,” he remarks, leaving Dan and I to enjoy each other’s company.
I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans as we wait in silence. It doesn’t escape me that we somehow ended up twinning today. We’re wearing similar dark wash jeans and light blue shirts, although again, he’s wearing a polo, while my shirt is just a cotton T-shirt.
“So, how are things?” I ask him, trying to add something to the heavy quiet.
“Fine, fine. I started taking a yoga class this week.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, and I’m very self-conscious that my father and I are basically doing the same thing. “It’s quite relaxing, you know. I like it. Anything new with you?”
I give a brief synopsis on the situation with the library and he listens intently. At first his expression is concentrated and tense, but it softens into a grin as I tell him about our progress and the steps we’ve taken.
“Nice work,” he says once I’m finished. “Send me the details of your speech. It might be good if a former member of the Howard County Council shows up in support.”
My chest tightens. Do I want my father to show up at an event where I’m going to have to make a public speech? Will it be like debate team all over again? Will he come and find some fault with how I’m speaking?
But what if he’s just trying to be supportive and wants to encourage you?
Before I can continue this mental debate, Liam hands over our lattes.
I jab a thumb toward the second floor of the café.
“Shall we?” Dan nods and follows me upstairs to the larger, more open space.
There are only a few groups of people here, and we’re able to find a cozy table over by a window that overlooks the town square.
If I lean forward, I can see Sunflower Books and the windows of Charlotte’s apartment.
I want to imagine that she’s either sitting in her window or looking out of the bookstore toward the café, maybe thinking of me.
“I’m telling you, Nicole, a vanilla latte with soy milk is technically a three bean soup,” a familiar voice sounds off a couple of tables over.
I turn and sitting there at a four-chair table are Xander, Nicole, and Charlotte.
They have a mug each and a platter of some sort of croissants in the center of their table.
Charlotte’s golden-brown hair is pulled up into a ponytail, revealing her beautiful face.
Her bright blue eyes are magnified by a stunning pair of dark blue glasses.
She has a copy of A Letter from the Luminous Deep by Sylvie Cathrall resting by her phone.
She spots me, flashes one of those radiant smiles, and taps something onto her phone.
I didn’t realize that Charlotte wore glasses. Combined with her green dress, she has a sexy librarian look going. If I wasn’t so anxious about having coffee with my father, I would be incredibly turned on right now.
But what the fuck are they doing here?
My phone vibrates a few seconds later, and I take a quick peek at it.
Charlotte: I’m sorry! I ran into Xander and he invited me. Nicole joined us and we’ve been here for about an hour. We’ll pretend like you’re not here.
Aidan: Tell Xander he’s a dead man.
“You’re so full of shit, Lurch,” Nicole snaps and throws a napkin at her brother. “A vanilla latte with soy milk is not a three-bean soup!”
He slaps his hand on the table, causing me to jump in my chair. “Yes, it is! Coffee comes from a bean. A coffee bean. Vanilla also comes from a bean. A vanilla bean. Soy milk comes from soybeans. It’s all heated up, so it’s a three-bean soup.”
Charlotte shakes her head. “Nah, it’s a beverage, not a soup. You don’t eat your latte, just like you don’t drink your soup.”
I take a sip of my latte to hide a chuckle, remembering that I told her something similar a few weeks ago.
Xander whirls to face her. “You don’t even drink coffee. Your opinion doesn’t count.”
Charlotte blinks. “What the hell? I drink tea. By your logic a London Fog with soymilk,” she picks up her own drink to emphasis her point, “is a two-bean soup since it’s basically a vanilla latte, except with Earl Grey tea instead of coffee.”
Nicole holds up a finger. “You’re wrong. Just like you were about the big light. Living rooms should not look like a hospital.”
Dan smirks. “Some interesting characters here.”
Heat flushes my cheeks, and I take a sip of my latte, finding solace in the sweet maple and spicy cinnamon. “I don’t know them,” I say, hoping he takes the lie.
My father’s eyes grow wide. “One of them is wearing a Triple C apron and we’ve established you’re a regular.”
Well shit. I guess I can’t lie to him. This is supposed to be our first step in repairing our relationship, and now he’s probably thinking that I don’t trust him to be around my friends. “I know them. But I’m not introducing you to them to protect you. It’s for your own good.”
The former bangs his fist on the table and exclaims, “Come on Taylor Swift is overrated.” He makes eye contact with me and mouths, “You good?” I flip him off under the table and vow to hurt him later.
Nicole gasps and brings her hand to her chest. “How fucking dare you!” She jabs a finger at him. “I know where you sleep, and I will make sure that your pillow is warm. On both sides!”
Xander huffs. “What are you gonna do? Fart on my pillow?”
Sighing, I turn to my father. “We’re going to ignore and pretend they don’t exist.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He eyes my friend skeptically and focuses his attention on me. “I’m really glad that we’re doing this.” He looks down at his hands. “Thank you.”
“Me too.” I drum my fingertips against the wood of the table. We sit there in silence for a few minutes, drinking latte and awkwardly avoiding eye contact. Nicole and Xander threaten to murder each other at their table while Charlotte tries to mediate.
I swallow hard. “There is something I want to talk to you about.”
Dan leans forward. “I’m all ears.”
My ribcage expands as I take in air. “It’s related to your work, both as a tax attorney and as a government official.
I want to be clear that I didn’t bring you here under false pretenses or anything.
” I let my gaze drop to my own hands, afraid to meet his gaze.
“I want to have a better relationship with you.” I make a gesture to indicate the two of us. “But I also want your advice.”
He doesn’t say anything, just watches me with brown eyes, so like my own, and signals for me to go on.
Is he thinking I’m taking advantage of him?
“Have you ever come across someone who was maybe doing something they weren’t supposed to?”
He leans forward. “What do you mean? Like something illegal? Or just unethical?”
“Illegal,” I reply, my mouth going dry. “I think someone is doing something that might be considered fraudulent, or at minimum not disclosing a major conflict of interest. There’s potentially a lot of money involved too.”
His eyebrows rise, and he leans forward, tapping his knuckle on the table.
“How much are we talking? Four figures?” I don’t reply, and he studies my face.
“Five figures?” I don’t respond, and his eyebrows rise even higher.
“Six figures?” He watches my lack of response, and his eyes grow wide.
“Seven figures?” He whistles and lowers his voice. “Well first, do you have evidence?”
“Nothing concrete. Just suspicion.” I tell him about the county offices that are supposed to be renovated and my theories. He listens the entire time and gives away no hint of his emotion. “I know it seems a lot like a conspiracy theory, but I don’t know. Something doesn’t add up.”
He nods. “Have they accepted bids on the project?”
I peer at him. “I don’t know. Can we figure that out?”
“The process is public, so yes. We can.” He taps his temple. “Our bid process was always public. If there really is some sort of fraud or embezzlement going on, then that construction company is likely connected to Gott somehow.” He points a finger at me. “I can look it up if you want.”
“What happens if we find something?” I ask, anxiety building up in my stomach.
“We send an anonymous tip to the authorities and hope they investigate.” His eyes are shining with excitement. “Let them handle it. You don’t want to get involved with whatever this is.”
“I agree. Thank you for your advice,” I say with genuine warmth and feeling.
Feeling anxious that my father now doubts my intentions for this coffee, I add quickly, “I want to reiterate that I didn’t bring you out here under false pretenses.
” I take a breath and meet his gaze. “Maybe we won’t play catch or go fishing, but we can at least talk about this stuff. ”
“Baseball’s not really my sport, and I don’t like fish.” A smile blooms on Dan’s face, and I notice that there are two dimples on each side of his cheeks. “I’m glad you brought this up with me, Aidan. I think it shows that we’ve made progress, or at least there’s hope for us.”
“Oh,” I ask, my attention piqued. “Why is that?”
“Because you’re starting to trust me.”