Chapter 12 Gwendolyn
Gwendolyn
The bell over the front door chimes through the cafe.
“Be right with you!” I shout, hoping like hell that the stress in my voice isn’t noticeable. The couple that came in first thing half an hour ago gave a double take to my wide eyes, manic smile, and overly messy bun, so I am not too sure if I’m masking it well.
I’m leaning into the oven to grab the last tray of scones when the familiar timbre responds, “Take your time, Gwendolyn.”
The shock of hearing the mayor in my already frazzled state jolts through my body, making my hand fly up in an attempt to smooth down the flyaway I can see around my periphery. The only problem is I connect with the still very hot oven first.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter as I cradle my hand to my chest.
“Is everything okay back there?”
“Yup! Yes! Sorry, just a second.” Taking a deep breath, I check out my distorted silhouette in the fridge door and pray I look less crazed as my reflection does. There was nothing I could do about it now as I make my way through the open kitchen door.
The early morning sun is filtering through the windows beautifully.
Which is something I usually love about the cafe, but right now I just know it’s highlighting every flaw I’ve ever had in the last twenty-six years as I squint against the glare.
All I can see is the shadow of a large man, plus someone much more feminine and smaller to his side.
Their voice gives them away before I can angle the sun behind the sunshade I half-pulled down earlier for this exact reason.
“Well, isn’t this a lovely sight? Gwendolyn, you could have at least brushed your hair this morning. Maybe put on a less wrinkly dress.”
Taking a long, deep breath, I silently beg my face to cooperate with a less-than-crazed smile plastered on my face.
“How lovely to see you two this morning,” I grit out to Mayor Spencer and Camila. “What can I get started for you?”
Camila scoffs. “My usual.”
Richard Spencer cuts a glare to his assistant before smiling back at me. Though it’s not one that I would classify as nice. No, instead it has me on edge wondering if this was more than just a casual visit. “I’ll take a black coffee, please, Gwendolyn.”
I start pouring the cup of regular drip for the Mayor first.
“You know you can call me Gwen, sir.” I slide over his cup, making sure to release the drink before he can make contact with my skin.
“But Gwendolyn is such a pretty name.”
I hum in response, unsure how to respond to that, as I start to pull the shots for Camila’s drink. “So, where are you two off to so early on a Saturday?” Mostly I’m trying to keep this interaction from being too awkward, but I couldn’t deny I wasn’t curious.
Camila’s smug smile tells me I should have just kept my curiosity to myself. “We have an important conference in the city.” She glances at her phone, before she places her hand on Mr. Spencer’s arm to get his attention. “Oh, Richard, that’s Logan now. He’s already on his way.”
My heart squeezes at his name on her lips. An odd sensation I haven’t felt in a while creeps up my neck as jealousy settles into my chest.
After our almost kiss last night, we made the trek back to our building in comfortable silence.
A short and sweet “Goodnight” shared in the hallway before I ducked into my apartment.
One of the reasons I was such a frazzled mess this morning is because I spent all night tossing and turning at what could have been if I hadn’t put a stop to his lips almost meeting mine.
Though it was for the best, it didn’t stop the what ifs from playing in my mind on repeat.
The other reason being that Ophelia called me to say she wasn’t feeling well and if I could handle getting the cafe ready for the day by myself until Stacy came in later in the morning.
Of course I told her it was fine, nothing I couldn’t handle.
But the universe decided to make me pay for the late night by burning the first batch of scones and overflowing the coffee carafe.
It was totally the universe and definitely not my half-in-the-drain mental state.
Mr. Spencer grunts. “I wish he would have just waited for us. We needed the extra time to prepare for the investors.”
Camila’s hand, still placed on her boss’s arm, squeezes while she grins up at him. “Have faith in Logan. He knows what’s right for him and this family.”
The scoff that leaves Logan’s father tells me he doesn’t believe her, but he seems to let it go when I walk up to their end of the counter with Camila’s drink in hand.
“The usual,” I mutter.
Not even a thanks is sent my way as she grabs it up.
“Where’s Ophelia this fine morning?” Mr. Spencer questions, peering around me to see into the kitchen.
“She wasn’t feeling well, so it’s just me for now. Don’t worry, the strawberry scones are still delicious.” I reach into the bakery case and start packaging his preferred pastry without him asking.
He chuckles as he watches me slide the scone into the paper bag. “I didn’t even ask for one.”
I smirk. “You didn’t have to. That’s one of the perks of being from a small town.”
“Hmm. I have to agree.” He glances around the room, noting it’s only us, but he still leans forward with a lowered voice. “Don’t you wish you had a little more foot traffic, though? This is fine, but what if it could be better?”
I rear back in confusion. My hackles raised at the sense of negativity for The Willow Whisk. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand what you mean? My cafe does more than fine and I’m very happy with what we have here.”
He leans backs, an eyebrow crooked up that is smoothed out quickly with another placating smile lining his lips. “Of course. I didn’t mean anything malicious by my comment, Gwendolyn. I just have to make sure my people are happy. If there is room for improvement, we have to start somewhere.”
It’s my turn to raise a brow. “I don’t want to speak for every other tenant on this street, but I think we are happy with how things are now. No need for any improvements.” Whatever that means.
“I don’t think you would know what was good for you if it knocked you upside the head,” Camila mutters while typing away on her phone.
“Camila,” Mr. Spencer tsks. “Play nice.”
She rolls her eyes. “We need to get going if we want to get there on time.”
“Would you like something to eat, too? Gwendolyn’s treats are simply divine.
” He smiles my way and I know the words are meant to smooth over the interaction we just had.
Not that I allow them, though. Something in my gut had already twisted at what he said to me.
It was going to take more than a compliment to ease that.
Camila’s nose scrunches in disgust. “No, thank you.”
“Something for Logan then. A peace offering could do you some good, Camila.”
She huffs out a breath, quickly eyeing the options. “Just get him the scone, too. I’m sure he will love that.”
I furrow my brow, leaning in to add another scone to the bag even though I know that’s not what he likes. Which is why I add another option instead.
Mr. Spencer is already waiting at the register with his card, which he taps without even waiting for me to give the total. And Camila is already at the door, tapping her impatient little foot.
“Have a nice day, Ms. Prescott.” He’s halfway toward the door when he turns around one more time.
“Oh, and I can’t wait to see what you have drummed up for the festival.
I’m sure you and my son will make this the best year ever.
I’m counting on him to make a big splash with this, so make sure you set him up for success. ”
I don’t think I take a full breath again until they are both out of sight.
But what if it could be better?
Set him up for success.
His words play on an endless loop in my head as I try to figure out what he means and why it puts a lead ball in my stomach.
***
Logan
Funny thing happened today.
Gwen
Do tell. I could use a good laugh.
Is everything okay? Did something happen?
Just a long day at the cafe. Currently soaking in the bathtub to get some feeling back into my legs. I haven’t done an open to close shift in a long time.
So please make me laugh. Though the exhaustion seems to make everything funnier.
You still there?
I’m here. Just had to take a few cleansing breaths at the thought of you in the bath.
*wide eye emoji*
Reel it in, Spencer. Friends can tell friends their bathing routines, right?
You would be the first.
Oops. My bad. Just scrub it from your brain. Tell me the funny thing.
I don’t think I can scrub this. The image is burned in.
Anyway. The funny thing is I was handed a bag from The Willow Whisk this morning expecting a strawberry scone. Imagine my surprise when there was a fresh cinnamon roll with my name on it instead.
I definitely did not put your name on it.
Camila swore you messed up, said she ordered a scone. I thought her head was going to explode. It was quite a sight.
Thank you.
For making Camila’s head explode? That’s a common experience for me. No big deal, really.
I meant the cinnamon roll, and you know it.
You just don’t seem like a strawberry scone guy.
Nah, I’m more of a peach guy.
I don’t have any peach items at the cafe.
I know *wink*
Before I forget, I talked to Holly McClean over at the Vineyard. She’s down for the basket idea. Might cost a little extra, but I think it’ll be nothing compared to what your ideas will bring in.
Oh my gosh, thank you. I owe you big time.
Let’s just make this event unforgettable.