2. Chapter Two #2
The way he looks at me. I’m taller than him, but he looks at me like he’s better, bigger, and taller. It’s then that I notice the way he’s dressed.
The tailored suit. The shiny silver watch on his wrist. Billie looks as if he comes from money.
I should know, since I am from a wealthy family and know guys who dress like that for attention.
And here I am, probably raised richer than this guy could ever dream of being.
But I work in a local bakery and wear black slacks, a black baseball cap, a black short-sleeved shirt, non-slip black shoes, and an apron.
“Do you want me to take his order, Lizzie?” I ask, turning to her, ignoring him.
She sighs, rolling her eyes at him as she grabs a disposable cup and pours drip coffee into it. She doesn’t add any cream or sugar. I watch as she moves to stand next to me, arm brushing against mine as she reaches forward to hand him the cup.
“I’ll give him this cup on the house because it’s his first and last time visiting. But thanks, Will.”
There it is again. She called me Will. She is definitely not okay. She holds out the cup for Billie to take. When he doesn’t take it, she sets it down on the counter and folds her arms across her chest.
“Oh, Liz,” Billie says, picking the cup up from the counter.
“I wanted to stop by and see you first. I had to see you before I showed up at dinner tonight. Didn’t your mom tell you?
She invited me to join you all for family dinner tonight.
And I just thought this would be better than a surprise since it’s been a while.
But we can talk later. Save me a seat next to you, okay? ”
“Can’t. Sorry. The spot Mama promised you is already taken. By my boyfriend.” Lizzie says it with confidence.
I glance at her, hearing her firm tone but confused by the news. Boyfriend? I would know if she had a boyfriend, right?
“Oh, really?” Billie asks, daring her to challenge him. “And who is the lucky guy?”
She freezes. It’s subtle, but I notice the way her body language changes. The way her glare falters, her shoulders slump slightly, her breathing slows.
She balls her hand into a fist at her side. But she doesn’t speak, doesn’t say a name, and Billie doesn’t leave. Awkwardly, I think of something, clearing my throat.
I reach for Lizzie’s hand before I can stop myself. She looks down at her hand in mine, then back up at me. I don’t flinch as I look down at her, hoping she gets what I am trying to say without saying it.
I don’t want to overstep, but I can’t leave her fumbling in front of this loser. Her gaze softens, and she takes a deep breath, interlocking her fingers with mine, moving closer to me. I take a deep breath and get a whiff of her sweet, floral scent. I mimic her smiling expression.
She says, “Will Darcy.”
“Huh,” Billie scoffs. And then, the jerk picks up the coffee cup Lizzie made for him and saunters away from the front counter and out of the coffee shop.
Lizzie and I stand there for a moment behind the counter, still holding hands.
I’m not sure what to say. Wolfsheim strolls in the door a minute later.
Sensing the tension, he looks at both of us.
We both break apart, dropping each other’s hands and moving away from each other as if one of us has the plague.
“Everything alright?” he asks, eyeing us suspiciously.
I look at Lizzie, waiting for her to answer, to say whether she is okay or not. She blinks and then recomposes herself, smiling at Wolfsheim. The smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Right as rain, Wolfsheim. How are you?”
“I’m good. But you look like you saw a ghost or something, Lizzie. Are you sure you’re good?”
“Yeah,” she says, nodding as she moved away from the counter. “Just need to take an early lunch in my office. So, I’ll be in there for a bit.”
But she doesn’t move right away. I step in, grabbing a chocolate croissant from the display case, from a small batch that I made fresh this morning, and hand it to her. She looks up at me, mouth parted to speak, but nothing comes out.
She nods at me in thanks and moves around me to assemble a small cup of coffee.
She adds no milk, sugar or flavor. I watch as she heads through the door to the kitchen before turning toward her office, which is next to it.
She didn’t make her latte the way she likes it, nor did she take a moment to fuss at me about having something sweet and savory for her to eat at lunchtime.
Wolfsheim stands next to me, asking, “Did I miss something?”
“This guy named Billie is back in town, and he just stopped by the cafe. It upset Lizzie.”
“Oh,” says Wolfsheim. He nods, removing a fedora hat to reveal his salt and pepper fade haircut. “That’s not good.”
“You know that guy?” I ask.
“Yeah, he and Lizzie were engaged some time ago, but things went south. Just let her process in her own way. Give her time.”
I stand there as he pats me on the shoulder before he goes to the kitchen area to clock in, grab an apron and a baseball cap with the cafe logo on it. I work the register, taking care of a couple of customers who come in while I wait for him to take over the register.
Once he does, I head back to the kitchen, but not before walking past Lizzie’s office. The door is closed. I want to knock, to ask if she needs anything, to see if she needs to talk about what happened…about Billie, about us, or whatever that was.
Just when I am about to walk away, I hear the sound of Lizzie crying. The sound hits me harder than I expect and roots me to the spot. But Wolfsheim did say to give her time.
I walk away from the door instead of rushing into her office to offer comfort. Instead, I offer her time to cry in peace. I get back to work, baking away my frustrations about the guy who made her cry.