Chapter 1 #2
“I have just about had it with all this construction noise,” he said, coming closer to the counter, although he looked like he wanted to march outside and give the workers a piece of his mind.
Gilbert, Sam and Diccon’s middle brother and co-owner of the café, had tried that when the project had first started, but to say it hadn’t gone well was an understatement.
“At least the noise is only a problem during the day,” I said with a hopeful shrug, having a hard time pulling my eyes away from him.
Sam grunted, crossing his arms and staring out the window. “We’re open during the day.”
He had a point there.
I grabbed a mug from the rack next to my station and filled it with Common Grounds’ special brew. I knew exactly how Sam liked his coffee, a dash of sugar and just enough milk to make it opaque, then stepped over to hand it to him.
Sam was still looking at the cloud of dust that had swelled up outside the window as the beep-beep-beep of a construction vehicle backing up blared, but he glanced to me with a look of surprise as I offered him the mug.
“Thanks,” he said, taking it, his face softening.
I loved it when Sam lightened up. He was generally pretty serious.
It made sense, since he was a business owner.
Especially these days, he had a lot to think about.
What was even better was when he lightened up around me.
I didn’t want to assume anything or get my hopes up in any way, but I was pretty sure Sam liked me.
Of course, he might have just liked me because I was his brother’s best friend. And because I was one of his most reliable employees.
Ugh. Every time I remembered that he was technically my boss, it made me feel bad for the nights I lay awake in bed imagining what it would be like if he were there with me.
In no way was it appropriate to get off while thinking about your boss, or your best friend’s brother, for that matter, but a guy had to do what he had to do to get his rocks off.
“Everyone keeps saying this is temporary and that things will be back to normal in a few months,” Sam said, dragging his eyes away from—wait, had he been staring at me? “But if we lose too much business in the meantime, we’re not going to be able to afford to keep the doors open that long.”
“Is the café really running on margins that thin?” I asked, wanting to sound like I knew more about business than I did.
Sam sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I wish it wasn’t, but with the cost of everything going up these days, we might be in trouble soon.”
That truly struck fear into my heart. Common Grounds couldn’t go out of business. It was so much more than just a job to me.
“There has to be something we can do,” I said as a middle-aged woman came through the door.
She made a face as she looked over her shoulder, like the noise and mess of the construction was a personal offense to her.
“If the construction is keeping people away during the day, can we figure out a way to compensate by bringing people in at night?”
Sam glanced to me, his eyebrows lifting a little, like he was impressed with the way I was thinking.
Obviously, I loved that.
He didn’t have a chance to answer me. Two things happened simultaneously. The woman gave Diccon her order, which necessitated me calling out, “Pumpkin spice latte with a dash of cinnamon,” in response to Diccon, then turning to prepare the order, and none other than Kyle Jameson walked in.
“Jameson,” Sam greeted the man, going all hard and tense. I didn’t mind the way his biceps flexed in the polo shirt he wore or the way his jaw looked even squarer as he moved away from the counter to meet the man.
That was all the exchange they had time for before Gilbert came striding out of the office like he’d been fired from a cannon.
“Jameson,” he repeated Sam’s greeting, but saying the name more like it was a curse.
“You’ve got some nerve showing your face in here when the racket and dust from that little project of yours has been decimating our business. ”
Kyle Jameson pulled to a stop, raising his hands. “Whoa. Good morning to you, too, Gilbert.”
I glanced over my shoulder as I prepared the latte, wondering if we would get another heated showdown today.
Gilbert and Kyle hated each other…or did they?
No one was really sure. Diccon had shared a few weeks ago that he’d discovered the two men actually already knew each other, that they now played in the same pick-up baseball league, and they had possibly known each other in college.
But Gilbert had been really vague about all of that when asked.
I might have worked at a coffee shop, but I knew tea when I saw it about to be spilled.
“You promised that you’d keep the noise to a minimum.” Gilbert stopped right in front of Kyle, arms crossed, glaring.
“This is a minimum,” Kyle said, mirroring his stance and his frown, not backing down. “It’s not like anyone can build an entire shop in complete silence.”
“You’re chasing away our customers,” Gilbert kept on him.
“They’ll come back as soon as the project is done,” Kyle insisted.
“Will they?” Gilbert sent him a threatening look.
“They will if your café is any good.”
We all caught our breaths at that. I got that Kyle was just trying to upstage Gilbert and challenge him, but he chose a way to do that that came far too close to insulting the café.
No one insulted Common Grounds and got away with it.
Kyle seemed to sense that. He dropped his arms and shifted, rubbing the back of his neck like he already had a headache that early in the day. “I’m doing the best I can,” he said, “but everything has its limits.”
“Foot traffic has been diminished by forty percent,” Gilbert argued.
“Can’t you put up more signs or figure out a way to draw more people in?” Kyle asked.
“Oh, so you’re a café owner now, are you?”
“Gilbert,” Sam said quietly, touching his brother’s arm in an attempt to calm him down. He glanced at Kyle and said, “We’re doing what we can, but we need you to do what you can as well. Is there any way you can hold off with the jackhammers until after the morning rush?”
Kyle shrugged. “We’re on a tight schedule. We have to do things in a certain order. But I’ll see what I can do.”
That was the best we were going to get. Gilbert wasn’t happy and stomped off. Sam turned to me with a tense smile, almost like he was looking for my approval over the way he handled the situation. That was heady.
“I’ll have a black coffee,” Kyle ordered from Diccon, maybe as a peace offering, or maybe because he really needed a coffee.
“One super black coffee,” Diccon called out.
“One super black coffee,” I echoed.
“One super black coffee!” Hannah sang in her amazing voice, completing the call and response and putting the entire café at ease again.
Routine was a blessing sometimes. And a plain black coffee was the easiest order to make. I had it poured and handed over to Kyle in a to-go cup in no time. Kyle acknowledged me with a nod, then walked out of the café with a frown.
We all watched him go as if we were waiting for a bomb to go off. Once he was out the door and disappeared around the dusty corner, the mood lifted a little.
“He’s nice,” Diccon joked with a lopsided smile.
“He’s just doing his job,” Sam grumbled grudgingly, then took another sip of the coffee I’d made him. As if that drew his thoughts to me, once he swallowed, he glanced in my direction. “We’re going to be in trouble if we keep on going, business as usual,” he said.
“Yeah, something has to change to get people in here,” I agreed, wanting to move closer to him.
He took another drink, eyes fixed on me. I loved the way he looked at me, but it also filled me with all sorts of things that were incredibly inconvenient for me to be feeling for Samwise Meyers.
“I think you’re on to something,” Sam said at last.
“Great,” I grinned. “What am I on to?”
Sam met my grin with one of his own. “That if we want to bring in more traffic and money to the café, we’re going to have to do it outside of construction hours.”
“We’ve got open mic nights,” Diccon offered from the other end of the counter.
“We do,” Sam said. “But I think we’re going to need something else. We’re going to need a great idea that packs people in here and gets them to spend money.”
“That would be nice,” Diccon said.
“We can do it,” I told Sam with a smile. “We’ll think of something.”
I was certain we would, and if that something meant I could spend more time with Sam, showing him I was more than just his brother’s bestie and his employee, I was all for it.