Chapter Thirty Nomi
CHAPTER THIRTY
Two months later…
NOMI
I’ve always loved the sounds of a busy, bustling café. People chatting, soft trills of laughter, chairs squeaking across floors as friends joining late take their seats, happy to be there at last, asking to hit that joint because their mom’s really been on their ass lately.
“You can smoke that on the partaking patio out back,” I call as I wipe down the bar, sliding crumbs of Eve’s delectable edibles off my counter and into my waiting palm. “Only treats and beverages inside.”
Stranger Drugs is popping. It’s the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, also known as Green Wednesday, and I’ve already done enough business by two p.m. to pay all our salaries through the end of December.
Luckily, I’m no stranger to Green Wednesday, having run Damon’s dispensary for so many years, and I’ve ordered plenty of product to service the entire Sparrow Nook population through the year’s biggest food holiday.
The local Acme ought to pay me tribute for how many turkeys they’ve sold.
Eve hasn’t been able to sit down yet—when she’s not selling her giant sugar cookies decorated as turkeys with red, bloodshot eyes, she’s my best budtender, thoughtfully helping customers find the experience they’re looking for.
Graham’s stationed by the door, checking IDs and managing the store’s capacity as our sweet, docile security guard with a penchant for trivia.
It’s not just Stranger Drugs, either. Sammy’s Steaks is currently boasting a line down the block.
“I’ll be right with you,” I tell a woman with shy eyes and a Taylor Swift cardigan as she nervously peruses the flower listings. I love helping cute women find pot.
The door chimes as it opens, and a soft, winsome smile blooms on my face as Julian’s white-coated shoulders fill the doorway.
“Welcome to Stranger Drugs, how may I help you?”
Julian saunters across the dispensary, eyeing the full booths, packed tables, and dwindling bakery case with open pride.
I lean my elbows on the counter, looking up at him with lips pouting and ready for a kiss.
When his hand cradles my cheek, I mmm happily, letting his warm, lush lips kiss me tenderly in front of the whole damned dispensary.
“I’ll have my usual,” he says against my cheek, placing another soft kiss there.
“One nasty black coffee with almond milk, coming right up.”
“Make it extra nasty, please.” He slides over a fifty-dollar bill, and we share a smile. “I’d also like to marry you and officially make you part of the D’Angelo clan of Sparrow Nook, New Jersey. If you’ll have me.”
I smile even bigger, responding as I do every week when he asks. “God, no.”
Though a part of me thinks more and more, Maybe…
“I’ll be working at the clinic tonight. Dr. Appa says Sparrow Nook always suffers a lot of eating-related injuries this week.” Julian adjusts his gold-framed glasses higher onto his long, straight nose, his eyes flashing mischievously. “You can come and visit later, if you want.”
“Maybe.” I say the word aloud this time, smiling coyly, answering more questions than Julian realizes.
It’s late by the time I close up and kick all the happy stoners off my patio. As I lock the doors and set the alarm, I notice the clinic’s bright lights and feel a pull to them, or rather, to Julian within.
The reception desk is unmanned this time of night, though Julian’s working on staffing up the clinic when he officially takes control January first. Dr. Appa could get away with a skeleton crew, but Julian prefers to outsource the customer service roles to those who are…
more suited for such interaction. His first hire was that cool nurse from my colonoscopy.
“Excuse me,” I call out. “Doctor? I have an emergency!”
Julian’s quick strides bring him through the double doors and into the reception area where his serious face breaks into a happy, adoring grin. “You came.”
“Because I’m having an awful emergency,” I drawl, tugging the ties to my coat slowly open, then letting it drop to the floor. “Can you help me, doctor?”
Julian’s eyes go wide, drinking in my half-nude body. I’m wearing my THC Colonel Sanders shirt and nothing else, of course. For old times’ sake. “Jesus, Nomi—the windows!”
I throw my head back and laugh as he races over, removing his doctor’s coat and quickly draping it around my shoulders. He pulls me to him by the lapels, his cheekbones streaked with heat.
“So,” he swallows roughly. “What uh, seems to be the problem, ma’am?”
“It’s my area,” I whisper dramatically, then point down. “You should check it out.”
Julian’s eyes go dark as he lifts me effortlessly into his arms, then takes me back to Patient Room #2.
“Folds town or bust,” I tease.
“No,” Julian says archly, and I just know he’s about to correct me, the punk.
“Folds town and bust.”
The End