Chapter 33
AVERY
It’s early morning when I wake up, and my neck hurts. Somehow, I managed to cuddle up with Max, except my head was at a strange angle, and I can barely move it now.
“Good morning,” he says, glancing down at me with sleepy eyes. “You did come over last night.”
I bolt upright, remembering that this is the morning I’ll have a lot of the town coming through my coffee shop, at least I hope so. Trying to turn my head to the right is impossible, too much pain shooting up my neck.
“What’s on your face?” Max asks, getting closer to see. We’re mere inches from one another, and he gently wipes at something just above my cheek. “Is it dirt?”
I sigh. “No, that would be part of the cocoa powder explosion. I must’ve forgotten to clean myself off after working on the floor.”
Max tries to look serious, but I can see his smile trying to break through.
“Go ahead and laugh. It might take me another few hours before I can manage it.”
“I think it looks good on you,” he says. “Is it like glitter? Where you keep finding it?”
I groan. “Yes! Cocoa powder is giving glitter a run for its money.” I turn to squint so I can see the time on the oven since my phone is probably lost in the couch. “You were right. This couch is not comfortable. My back and my neck are all sore.”
Max frowns. “Let me see if I can help ease some of the tension.”
He moves his hands to my neck, and I practically melt as he massages firmly, but not so hard that I want to cry.
The room is quiet, but with each moment, the tension heightens.
“I should probably go,” I say, not moving. I close my eyes, surprised at how much this is helping.
“You can stay a few more minutes,” Max says, and while I can’t see it, I can hear the smile in his voice. “So, you finally texted me.”
I laugh and turn to look at him. We’re still only inches away from each other, and my breath catches in my throat. This guy is the total package, and yet, am I the right person to be hanging out with him? I’m practically a hurricane compared to his composed personality.
“I did. One thing after another kept happening, and I didn’t want you to wait up, wondering if I was coming.”
“So, do I have texting privileges?”
Laughing, I nod, using my hand to push myself up a little more. But instead of my hand hitting the couch, it lands on Max’s chest. “I’m so sorry,” I say, standing up quickly.
Max looks like he’s trying to hide his amusement, for which I’m grateful.
“Good luck today,” he says. “If you need anything, shoot me a text.”
“Of course you’re going to use that for days.”
“Weeks, months even.”
Something about those words from him makes me wonder if he’s serious. When his projects here are done, will he be staying?
“Have fun, and good luck with whatever you’re working on.” Lamest goodbye ever, but I’m flustered and need to get going to make this the best day yet for Second Tide Coffee.
It’s five in the morning and I’m feeling the butterflies as I think about how this day will play out.
There are several bills on the counter in the apartment that I didn’t see before, and I pick them up, starting to open them. There are the typical bills, a couple of advertisements, and the last one is from a company I don’t recognize.
I slide my finger through the envelope and pull it out. It’s on a legal letterhead and is addressed to me.
Dear Avery Parker,
We appreciate your being one of our valued renters and wanted to give you a discount for several months as construction and renovations are taking place. We will be giving you a fifty percent discount until all renovations wrap up.
Sincerely,
A signature I can’t read.
Is it normal to only have a signature without the name and title below it printed? It seems kind of different, but maybe I’m overthinking it. Still, it feels fishy, though. This would be the worst prank letter ever if it isn’t true.
I have about fifteen minutes before I need to be downstairs, so I walk over and look on my laptop, searching for the company at the top: Bauer Enterprises.
There isn’t a whole lot there, and I’m wondering if it’s just a shell company and why they would take such interest now that I’ve already moved into both my coffee shop and my apartment.
Then again, from everything Max has said, maybe they didn’t know about any of the hiccups we’ve been through.
A few bad employees can ruin a lot of things.
While I’m on here, I send the invoices to the email Max provided. It looks like a personal email instead of a business one. Hopefully he gets the documents to the right person.
I’m not sure how things are going to go, but I rearrange my hair, change my clothes quickly, and head in to wake Lila up.
“Hey, sleepy head. I’ll be in the coffee shop. Come help in about fifteen minutes or so. You can have your pick of pastries.”
Lila sits up, nearly knocking me in the head with her own. “I’m up,” she says, rubbing at her eyes.
I walk down to the coffee shop and get to work. I’ve got pastries baking in the oven as well as working to prep several of the ingredients for our sandwiches. Adding them into our offerings as a breakfast sandwich has me running to keep up.
I get going with the people coming in, and I’m surprised at how many more arrive this early.
There’s a line, and Sarah, Lila, and I work together to make sure everyone gets exactly what they need.
We fall into a rhythm: Lila putting in the orders and making sure people sign their receipts, then getting the order started.
Sarah finishes out the coffee orders, and I have become a master of the panini press, only burning myself twice so far.
We’re a couple of hours into the day, and we’ve already made double what we’ve made since we opened. I smile and breathe deeply, grateful for all the little changes that have gotten us to this point. The ones Max suggested, and the ones I ran with.
It isn’t until I see a glimpse of Max at the register that I’m able to even focus on what happened last night.
He gives me a small smile.
I turn back to the press and get the next order ready. Lila brings back a receipt for a sandwich. “For your boyfriend.”
It’s not worth fighting her on this one, so I just focus on the process of adding each ingredient to the bread and getting it on the grill.
We’ve hit our first lull of the morning, and I take a breath, grinning at the success of this venture. I take the sandwich off the press when it’s done and wrap it in a thin kraft paper. Since we only have a few coffee orders left to fill, I walk out to give Max his sandwich.
“Thank you,” he says. Sorry I was an awful host last night.”
“Well, it took me forever to get things cleaned up after the girls made a mess of it. I’m sure I’ll still find cocoa and oats tucked into random areas.” Then I add, “And you had a big day of playing chef.”
“My blisters agree with you on that,” he says. He holds up his hand and shows me a few small spots on his fingers.
I take a seat across from him, trying to form a question that isn’t quite ready yet. My brain is trying to mesh waking up to him on the couch and seeing him here, supporting my business like he has from the beginning.
“You poor baby,” I say, in a teasing tone.
Max gives me a fake frown before taking a bite of his sandwich. “How did you come up with these sandwiches in such a short time?”
“Well, in law school, I practically lived at a coffee shop. It felt more like home than some of the other places in my life. Obviously I don’t have the exact recipes, but the blends of flavors are all ones I loved then.
I ordered a few things from a sourcing store south of town and thought we’d try them out for this. ”
“Anyone would be crazy not to love this,” he says, raising the sandwich for a moment as evidence. Then he points to the counter. “Do you need any help back there?”
“I think we should be good for now but thank you so much. You’ve already helped a ton with so many different things.”
“I think you’ve helped me more,” Max says with a soft tone.
I lean against the booth, glancing toward the door as a couple walks in. “A ride to get gas versus business advice and giving me the push I need to change? It’s a no-brainer.”
“I don’t know, Avery. You’ve shown me a different side of life, one that I want to love just as much as you do.”
The word “love” from his lips settles somewhere dangerously close to my heart. He’s not saying he loves me, which I’m kind of relieved about, since it’s only been a few weeks since we’ve known each other, but it’s a respect of my life in a sense.
And then the rough question enters my mind again. When does he have to go back to New York? Do I need to sabotage the apartments a bit so he’ll be here longer? Or will he have to leave anyway, even if they aren’t completed?
“Do you want to participate in one of the activities later today?” he asks.
“I’d like that,” I say.
We’ll let the future sort itself out. He’s here now, and while it might break me in the end, I need to see this through.
“Text me when you’re done here,” he says with a wink.
“Will do,” I say, sliding out of the booth. “Don’t have too much fun.”
Lila hands me the merchant receipts, but I manage to only hold onto about half of them, with the others falling to the ground.
I grab a few, and there’s one signature that catches my eye.
It’s awfully like the one I saw this morning on the discount letter I got from the owners. That looks a lot like an M and a B.
The only one who could be connected that closely would be Max, but I thought his name was Max Luca.
I turn to study Max, who is scanning through something on his phone. Is he the owner?
“Hey, Sarah, things have slowed down just a bit. I need to run upstairs real fast, but I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Lila and I got this, boss,” Sarah says.
I run upstairs with receipt in hand. I compare it to the paper, and it’s the same.
Instead of searching for Max Luca on my laptop, which Lila has already done a few times to make sure he wasn’t a stalker, I change out Luca to Bauer. And I’m surprised by how much information is there, along with a picture of him attending a charity dinner.
He’s not just some lowly inspector. He’s the owner of a very large grocery store chain.
A few other headlines have “billionaire” after his name.
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. My brain stutters as it tries to answer the why’s of Max Bauer.
I research Aiden Pearson and find he’s part of the ownership of a few social media platforms.
Why would they be trying to hide their identities in a place where most people wouldn’t even know who they are? Then again, maybe they get bombarded by people often.
Am I turned off now that I know Max is a gazillionaire? A little.
The omission of details is what’s hard to swallow. What was real and what wasn’t? Has he been hanging out with me as a community-service project?
Maybe it would be better for him to go back to New York and just let us live our lives here. He can hire an actual inspector and let us, me more specifically, move on. Jaded, but stronger.
I shut the computer and hurry downstairs, knowing I’ve been at least ten minutes and don’t want to put the burden on my employees for too long, especially on this first big day.
There’s a long line, and I’m grateful for everyone coming to support our business, but my brain keeps going back to everything I know about Max and struggling to put him together with the guy I read about online.
We close shop around noon, and Lila is already off biking with her friends along the beach at one of the activities.
It’s either that or surfing, and I don’t really feel like doing either right now, but I guess biking would be the easiest, so I don’t get wet or seriously injured on a wave.
Sure, I’ve been surfing a few times, but I’ve never quite mastered the art of catching the wave at the right time.
I guess you could say that I was swimming with a surfboard rather than actually surfing.
The temptation to stay in my apartment and let the world move on without me is high. My chest is tight, and I’m doing my best to keep from crying.
Because in what world would Avery Parker attract the attention of a billionaire?