Chapter 1
Gwendolyn
Ishould be listening to the story being told from the other side of the counter, but my sanity is at stake here. As soon as I heard the words, “I had my colonoscopy yesterday”, I immediately turned to the frother to craft the drink I overheard being ordered at the register.
Nodding my head at Walter with what I hope is a soft smile instead of the grimace threatening to overtake my face, I pretend to listen to every word as I let the milk steam.
The shrill shrieking emitting from the machine being the only thing keeping me from gagging at the details he’s innocently offering.
I pull the stainless steel cup away just enough to buy myself a little more time without ruining the silky smooth foam the milk had turned into.
The frother continues on in a cacophony of noises until I feel he’s almost done with his story.
“Got a clean bill of health, aren’t ya proud?” The older gentleman’s grin tells me he thinks I heard every word. That’s all that matters to me as his eyes crinkle at the edges and he takes a big gulp of his black coffee. Nothing fancy for Walt, something he likes to remind me daily.
“So proud, Walter,” I encourage with a real smile this time. “We gotta keep ya healthy. This town would be nothing without you.”
His chest puffs up as I pour the frothed milk over the hazelnut flavored espresso shots I pulled.
“Ya damn right, kid.”
“Walter, don’t you have someone else to bother instead of my hardworking granddaughter?” My grandmother steps up beside me to take the latte for the waiting customer. She returns to us after handing it over with her signature “come back soon, y’all”.
Her long gray hair—which she always refused to dye from the moment she found the first few grays in her blond hair—is tied up in a claw clip. The style she definitely did in haste earlier while baking looked chic in a way all girls envied.
“Ophelia, light of my life. How are you this fine morning?”
Walter’s attempt at flirting is basically his personality at this point in his life.
But there’s something extra special when it comes to flirting with my grandmother.
If hearts could shoot out of his eyes, they would be flowing straight toward her.
Ophelia always rolls her eyes and brushes him off, but the spot of pink on the apples of her cheeks tells me she’s not completely against the attention from the man.
“Pretty good until you showed up,” she mutters.
His eyebrows shoot up. “So what you’re saying is now it’s incredible, amazing, the best day ever?”
Like clockwork, her eyes roll once more. “Don’t flatter yourself, Walt.” She nudges me, sending a nod of her head to the register. “I gotta run to the bank and do a couple errands. You got this for a bit?”
“Of course. Why don’t you just take the rest of the day.” I glance at the watch on my wrist—a classic gold piece I never go a day without. Just like every time I look at it, I linger on the crack running across the face for a beat. “Piper should be here soon, anyway.”
Ophelia purses her lips. “If you’re sure…”
“I’m positive. Go. You deserve a night off.”
It was true. As co-owners of The Willow Whisk, any time we have in the day is usually spent here.
It was always my dream to open a cozy cafe where people could gather or find a quiet spot alone whenever they needed it.
Something I needed when I was growing up, but could never find.
I felt as if I never quite fit in anywhere I went.
When I took a business class at the local community college after graduation, I created a mock version of the store for a project and realized my daydreams had real potential.
I asked Ophelia if she thought it was something worth pursuing toward the end of that semester.
I didn’t even finish my well-planned power point presentation before she agreed.
I’ll never forget the way her eyes glistened as she told me how happy she was to see my face light up with so much passion.
One of the easiest propositions she’s agreed to, right after saying “yes” to marrying my late grandfather.
Ophelia squeezes me in a tight hug, whispering against my hair that she loves me more than anything, before untying her apron and hanging it by the counter.
I grin as Walter hops off his stool, in a move that was awfully spry for his age, following her to the back office with questions on if she would join him for dinner tonight. I could hear her protesting, but something told me she would humor him and end up saying yes.
Soaking in the brief pause in customers, aside from the couple sharing a scone and sipping lattes in the corner, I take a lap to wipe down tables and push in chairs.
I find a few books left on coffee tables in front of the oversize leather sofas that lined the wall.
Stacking them in my arms, I get lost in the music softly playing over the speakers as I return them to the small side room off the dining area.
The smell of books and coffee fill my lungs as I take a deep inhale while placing the books we have available for in house reading on the large wooden bookshelves and quickly straightening the ones for sale.
I smile down at the copy of The August Chronicles, my finger tracing the name Kennedy Prescott on the bottom.
We don’t sell a ton of books—an expansion project always in the back of my mind—but this author we always have on hand for purchase.
We all got the book lover gene thanks to our grandmother.
She passed it down to our father and then him to us.
My older sister, though, took it one step further and wrote the current best-selling Romantasy series.
Not to mention the entire catalogue she has of contemporary romance.
Those put her on the map a few years ago and she hasn’t stopped pursuing her dreams ever since.
I was forever proud of my sister, even if she was off living the big city life without me.
Not that I would ever want to leave Willow Grove. This was home to me and I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. The camaraderie in a small town spoke to me on a special level.
Ding, ding. The bell over the front door chimes to remove me from my thoughts. I quickly lay Kennedy’s book back on the dedicated shelf, hustling back to the counter. Only slowing down when I realize it’s just Piper.
“Awfully quiet around here,” she mutters as she ties her apron around her waist. The multitude of pins and small keychains she displays on the front pocket clink together.
“Pipes! Why would you say that?” My eyes bug out of my head as I shoot mental daggers at her.
She giggles, pointing at my face. “So you’ll react like that.”
Grabbing the rag we use to wipe off the counter, I chuck it in her face. Catching it easily, she tosses it on the counter and out of my reach so I won’t try a second time.
“Where’s Ophelia?” She ducks around the door leading to the office.
“Running errands. And probably caving to dinner with Walter.”
Piper sighs wistfully. “We love a down bad man.”
I nod enthusiastically, turning my attention to the espresso machine to give it a good clean so it’ll be ready for the inevitable rush, now that she dared to utter the “Q” word in here.
Not that I am complaining. I loved the afternoon rush.
School kids came to work on homework, couples stopped by for a quick coffee date, exhausted mothers took a breather while their children were in their many extracurriculars.
And every one of them with their own story to tell as I craft their favorite drink. The happy moment we share as I hand over their lifeline for the rest of the day never ceases to give me my own boost of happiness.
“Oh, speaking of men,” Piper starts as she adds new cups to the inventory we keep beside the machines. “Do I have some news for you.”
I drop my head on a groan. “If you are about to tell me you set up another blind double date, I will probably strangle you.”
“How was I supposed to know the guy that Josh had in mind for you was his twin brother?”
I level her with a stare. “That wasn’t the problem and you know it.”
She bites down on her grin. “Okay, then how was I supposed to know they wanted a poly relationship?”
“It was on his dating profile, but you chose to ignore it because his six-pack was on display and he was holding a dog. Not even his own, might I add.”
Piper giggles at herself, her chestnut locks swaying around her face as she shakes her head. “I do get suckered in by the dog pictures. Anyway, no, this is nothing like that. It’s hot town gossip.” Her perfectly sculpted brows waggle in my direction.
One thing about my best friend, if there is something going on in town then she was going to know about it. By no means did she want to be part of it, but she was going to know every single detail if it was the last thing she did.
“Alright, lay it on me.” I lean my hip against the counter, turning to face her head on. Because if she’s got the information, who am I not to know about it, too?
“I’m going to need you breathe as I tell you this, though. And don’t shoot the messenger.”
I furrow my brow in confusion as she places her hands on my shoulders and looks me square in the eyes.
“You’re scaring me.”
She takes a deep breath and, on the exhale, a rush of words leaves her mouth. An expectant look crossed her face as if I’m supposed to respond.
“You’ve lost your mind if you think I understood that gibberish. Did you say your colon is trash? Please, I cannot talk to another person about their bowels today.”
Piper’s face is pure horrified confusion. “What? No, I said,” another deep breath. “Logan is back.”
We stare at each other in silence as my brain turns to static.
Cannot compute. Abort mission of all thoughts for the rest of the day.
“Actually, I would much rather talk about your colon. Can we go back to that?”
“Gwen,” she shakes my body, which has turned into a limp noodle. “Stop talking about colons. It’s weird.”
“Yes, but I would rather do that than acknowledge that Logan Spencer has returned to my beautiful little town to taint it again.”
I remove myself from Piper’s grasp, her arms falling to her sides with a slap on her thighs. I turn back to the espresso machine, re-cleaning just to give myself something to focus on that isn’t the small bomb my best friend just dropped on me.
She places her hand over mine to slow my movements. “Gwen, there’s no need to take it out on the very expensive machinery. Back away from the espresso machine.” She guides me away to the back counter, which I immediately slump toward.
I nibble on my lip. “Are you sure?”
She nods her head. “Yeah, I heard my mom talking on the phone when I stopped by her house this morning.”
My shoulders relax a bit. “Oh, if that’s the case, it’s probably just a bad case of telephone. You and I both know Logan would never return to Willow Grove.”
She cringes. “That’s what I thought, too. But then I ran into him when I was walking over here.”
I blink at her. Then blink again to see if I was actually hallucinating this conversation.
A thought pops into my head. “He’s just visiting,” I say matter-of-factly.
Piper shrugs. “Maybe. But that’s not the way it sounded when I overheard Mom.”
“Nope, I refuse to believe further information than that. I will live in blissful ignorance until he leaves again.” Because he will leave. He was meant for more than this town. Something he told me many years ago.
“Good to see you have gotten over what he did.”
I release a huff. Hoping it sounds like a laugh, but knowing it sounds more like a strangled cat by the look on Piper’s face. “I am so over it, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
The smirk playing on her lips tells me she knows better than that. “Sounds healthy.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to get this place ready for the inevitable rush you have thrust upon us with that pesky little “Q” word you uttered earlier.”
“Oh, you were serious. We are just going to forget what I just told you. Pretend those words never left my mouth?”
“Yup.” I grab the broom and begin sweeping like my life depends on it. “Before I forget. Are you sure you are able to come in tomorrow for an hour or two? I know it’s your day off—”
She cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “Of course. You know I like to keep busy. Besides, you also know I usually end up here either way. What’s tomorrow again?”
I fight the nervous flutter in my stomach so I don’t start bouncing on my toes from excitement. “I have that meeting at town hall. The one Margot Spencer asked me to join in on.”
Piper’s eyes grow big. “That’s right! Do you think it has to do with the Harvest Festival? Maybe she wants you to help with something this year? That’s always been on your yearly vision boards, so it’s about damn time if you ask me.”
I shake my head, the what-ifs and maybes having circled in my brain for days about what she could want me there for.
But, I don’t get a chance to beat those thoughts into the ground, with Piper’s help this time, as the rush hits at that moment.
I’m thankful for it, though, because it keeps Piper from asking if I’m okay for the tenth time and it keeps my brain from hyperfixating on the person I once called a friend until he wasn’t.
Because why would I think about someone who never thought about me?