1. Chapter One #2
He doesn’t speak right away, putting the pan in the oven, turning his back to me.
Then, he walks back to the counter and comes over to my side.
I look him up and down, knowing that he’s probably about to say something smart and that I’ll have to retort.
I watch him as he thinks; his hand flexes and brushes against mine as he does so.
He’s so close to me, which is normal. We work together, so we spend a lot of time in the same room, in the same space, and being near each other.
But I’m starting to notice the little things, like the closeness.
Or maybe I’m imagining things. I take a step back and tap my journal with my pen, waiting for him to answer my question.
He studies me for a second before asking, “What about tulip tea?”
“That sounds very on-brand for summer,” I say, taking notes. “And tulips are my favorite flowers.”
“I know,” he says, tapping my journal, smirking. “You mentioned it about a month ago when we were hanging out with the crew.”
Seriously, how dare he call us the crew? He’s not officially in the crew yet. And wait, he remembers my favorite flower from a random chat we had ages ago?
I stop writing, looking over at him. “I can’t believe you remembered that,” I say, surprised.
He shrugs, looking shy for a second, averting his gaze. Then he asks, “How could I forget when you said it five times in one conversation?”
And just like that, the sweet moment is over.
I narrow my eyes at him and clear my throat.
“Anyway, you don’t get to join my friend group just like that.
And for your information, I didn’t say it five times.
But since you hang on my every word, it must have felt like I repeated myself.
Oh, and tulip tea sounds like a winner to me.
Not that I love giving you compliments or anything, but it’s a pretty good idea. ”
Will smirks at me. “Thanks, Boss Lady. Now, when do I officially join the friend group?”
“When I say so, Darcy,” I say, glaring at him.
But the glare is more like a smile, in our own language.
Besides, I can’t let him see me sweat over the idea of him joining my friend group or remembering my favorite flower.
I have to admit, though, that he is thoughtful, witty, and, frankly, annoying.
“I’ll be waiting by my phone day and night for you to let me know when I can be officially accepted,” he says, winking at me.
“Be nicer to me, Darcy. I was going to make us both iced apple cinnamon lattes to help get the day started, but if you want to be like that…”
“I’ll be your best friend if you make me a large, please.”
“And?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him, basking in the glow of having the upper hand even for something so silly.
“And I’ll be nice to you by making a few extra rolls for you and me to enjoy with our lattes. Deal?”
“Deal, but you cannot be my best friend, by the way. I already have two amazing besties, so you’ll have to settle for being my very annoying but talented employee.”
“You think I’m talented?” he asks, and when he smiles at me, I swear I see dimples, which I never noticed before.
He is a tall, muscular Black man with a beard, gorgeous dark skin, and the ability to bake like somebody’s grandma…and now I can add dimples to the list. But I didn’t know that I was keeping a mental list of these things. And I shouldn’t be. I shake my head as if I could shake the thoughts away.
“Everyone knows that you’re a talented baker. That’s old news,” I say, ready to make those lattes I promised so I can get on with the rest of my day and stop thinking about Will Darcy.
***
The cafe is buzzing with customers today. The weather is stuck in a heat wave cycle where it’s been rainy some nights and really hot during the day. People are rocking t-shirts and shorts and expecting iced drinks today.
Order after order, I move from the kitchen, where I mix drinks that require more ingredients and steps, to behind the front counter, where I make simple coffee orders and manage the register during the early morning shift.
Will takes over the register for the afternoon shift after Mr. Meyer Wolfsheim comes in for his late morning shift before heading across the street to open his local barbershop for the day.
Then, I’ll be back at the register for the evening shift tonight, while Will cleans the kitchen and prepares for tomorrow’s baking needs.
During a lull in the morning rush, Nic and Jane stop by the cafe for breakfast. With Will’s help, I have their orders ready to go when they approach the front counter: iced cinnamon swirl lattes and cinnamon swirl muffins.
“Morning, Lizzie,” Nic says, smiling at me.
“How’s our favorite barista doing today?” Jane asks, smiling too.
“One, I’m the only barista in town, so being your favorite seems like a consolation prize. Two, I’m doing so much better now that you two are here.” We all laugh. I instantly feel much better, less tired, and ready to take on the day since my girls are here.
“Who baked the muffins today?” Nic asks, pulling out her phone to tap and pay for the breakfast. Jane tries to protest, but Nic waves her off and tells her to buy next time.
“That’s so rude,” I say, pretending to be offended.
I can’t even be mad. I may be the best barista in town, but I am not the best baker, and we all know that.
As if he’s been summoned, Will moves from the kitchen, walking through the door like we were expecting him.
He spots Nic and Jane, smiling at them in greeting.
“Hey ladies.”
“Hey Will, is Liz being nice to you today?” Jane asks, but she looks at me, tilting her head, eyes playfully devious.
“Nice is not the word I would use to describe it, but she made me a latte this morning, so I think that counts, right?”
“Making lattes is Lizzie’s love language, so…” Nic trails off when I shoot her a look that says ‘Shut up’ without saying it.
“Nevermind them, Darcy,” I say, tapping on the cash register to send Nic a digital receipt. “Go back to baking.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” He throws up his hands, backs away and into the kitchen.
“So…” Nic says, voice low. She leans forward on the counter, all conspiratorial like, but I hold up a hand to silence her.
“I already know what you’re going to say, but the answer is and always will be no.”
“But why is the answer no, Liz?” Jane asks, leaning forward.
“Because,” I say, my whisper more like a hiss. I glance over my shoulder to make sure that Will is indeed back in the kitchen where he was supposed to be so that he doesn’t overhear us. “Like I told you before, Will and I work together. I’m his boss.”
“Yeah,” Nic responds. “But you two have chemistry.”
“We do not,” I say, objecting.
“Oh, but you do,” Jane says, gushing. “It’s so obvious to everyone but you two.”
“Look, I know the wedding is coming up and I haven’t RSVP’d yet, but it’s only because the plus one thing threw me off.
And we all know that I don’t have a plus one.
Mama is on me about it. And you two keep trying to push me together with Darcy, which will never happen.
I mean, I barely survived spending Valentine’s Day alone this year without my sisters throwing their relationships in my face, so please just let me be. ”
Nic reaches out and gently touches my hand. “You know we love you, Lizzie. And we would never pressure you to find a guy. I offered the plus one because I wanted you to have the option as one of my maids of honor. But if you choose to come alone, that’s fine too. I just need you there.”
“And,” Jane says. “We only tease you about Will because of the way you two are together. I mean, the way they bicker, isn’t it obvious?” Jane looks to Nic for support.
“Very,” Nic says, looking at me. “But if you say you two are just friends...”
“Thank you,” I say, squeezing both of their hands. “I know you both mean well. It’s just that my love life is not a thing right now, and I think I’m okay with that. If that changes, you both will be the first to know. Well, Jesus first, then you two.” We laugh at that.
Secretly, I send up a prayer in my mind, hoping that God hears me: I want love, Lord. Can the right man you have for me find me at the right moment and can everything fall into place according to Your plans for me?
The door to the cafe opens, and Billie Collins walks in.
I hold my breath, unable to process the person I see walking towards the front counter. Nic and Jane turn toward the front door when they notice the look on my face.
That is not the man I prayed for. Why is my ex-fiancé here?