Chapter 2
Lucy
“And I had a bad feeliiiing!” I bop my head and sing and dance along to Taylor Swift’s “Dancing With Our Hands Tied” as I get ready to trade places with the baristas coming in for the next shift.
I have worked here since the beginning of my college career. I ended up at the doors of the cafe and connected almost immediately with Mama Betty, the feisty Latina woman who owned the place after building it up from nothing.
She believed in me every step of the way.
Even after being diagnosed with ovarian cancer, she showed up for me in ways my own mother couldn’t or wouldn’t.
Once I graduated, she called me into her office and presented me with the paperwork to make me a co-owner to ensure I would have experience in case her condition ever takes a turn.
I smile a little as I pull another box of cups down from a shelf, letting my hand linger on the way back down. My eyes and thoughts drift to the changes I have made since she made things official.
The remodel and rebranding to create the Karma Coffee at five foot two and just over a hundred pounds, it’s easy to use my partners as my own personal jungle gym.
“Mr. Beaumont,” I greet in a mock serious tone, pressing my forehead against his as he spins us in a circle.
“Ms. Ramos,” he answers in the same tone before setting me back on my feet and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “How’s my Tiny Tim?”
“Absolutely wonderful now that you’re here, Big Shot,” I giggle, loving the feelings I get whenever he reminds me of the night we met.
I was out with some friends at the bar and had this so-called “big shot” lawyer offer to buy my friends and I a few rounds of drinks.
Drinks turned to shots and somehow I ended up with him lifting me up to perch on his shoulder.
Drunk Me thought it was absolutely hilarious and couldn’t help but think about A Christmas Carol and ended up loudly calling out to the bar, “God bless us, every one!”
That was when he lifted me off his shoulder and pulled me down just to capture me in a sloppy but passionate kiss that made desire pool deep in my core.
Then he pulled back, and whispered, “I never thought I’d find Tiny Tim this sexy.
” I laughed at him and have been “Tiny Tim” ever since. That night was six months ago.
I glance out the glass display window at the front of Karma and my eyes are drawn to a woman sitting in a car across the street.
I can’t see her clearly at this distance, but her bright, dyed red hair is gathered into a bun on top of her head.
It reminds me of a cherry on a sundae. My attention is dragged back to Jake when he tugs on one of my braids and offers his arm to escort me to his car.
“You still good with burgers?” he asks, opening the passenger door for me.
“Yeah, definitely! We can take our time. I am off for the rest of the day,” I reply, trailing my fingers down his arm and flashing him a seductive smile.
I steal another kiss as I duck into his car and settle in for a wonderful afternoon with my boyfriend.
The car comes to life with a quiet growl and Jake reaches over to turn on my music—smart man—before squeezing my hand and setting off.
***
I’m glad we were able to take our time, I think fondly, glancing back over at his face as we pull up in front of Karma, since my apartment is above it.
Both of us are far more disheveled than when we left.
My face heats and my lips tip up in contented satisfaction as the images of an afternoon well spent dance through my head.
He comes around and opens my door, walking me back to the entrance of Karma.
When we reach the door, he drags me into him and kisses me so thoroughly that I feel it from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes. He pulls back and I lean toward him chasing his lips with my own. He smiles and kisses my forehead before grasping my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze.
“Goodnight, Lucy,” he whispers sweetly.
“Goodnight, Jake,” I whisper back. “Text me when you get home, okay?”
He agrees and gives me one more soft kiss before stepping back and heading to his car.
It’s a sexy silver Corvette Stingray from last year and, goddess, I have never been sexually attracted to a car before, but hey.
It’s sex appeal on wheels. Jake pauses at his door to throw one more smile my way before climbing into the car and driving away.
I hum as I make my way through the mostly empty shop.
The coffee area has been cleaned out and shut down for the evening.
There are several people browsing the bookshelves and a few others working on their laptops.
The night shift cashier, Bennett, standing behind the counter helping a couple buying a few books and a tote bag.
I sigh happily as I duck through the hallway beside the counter and unlock the door to the staircase that leads to my apartment above the shop.
The first thing I do when I step through the door is kick off my shoes, toss my purse onto the table, and change into a pair of ratty sweatpants.
Honestly, they are the most comfortable things on the goddamn planet.
I turn on a historical romance show that I’m currently obsessed with and pick up some paperwork to thumb through for the shop. However, the moment the main character starts on his confession of love, the papers drop to my lap, completely forgotten as a nearly faded memory plays through my head.
Isabelle’s laugh rings through the empty street as she plucks a dandelion from the sidewalk and tucks it behind my ear.
“For you, Trouble,” she says, her fingers trailing down my jawline, making me shiver in pleasure.
“You’re so silly,” I reply, my smile widening by the second. I lean up on my toes to press a kiss to her cheek.
“I love you,” she whispers, barely audible, but my heart thumps hard inside my chest. It’s the first time she’s said it.
“I love you too,” I murmur back, threading my fingers through hers. “Come on, let’s get home so we can have time alone before Marcus gets back from his date.” I pull her along behind me and her laughter follows me back into the present.
I am a hopeless romantic, I know that about myself.
I love the idea of love. It’s one of the reasons why I have identified as polyamorous for as long as I can remember.
Well, ambiamorous is probably a better term since I can be happy in monogamous relationships, like the one with Jake.
He said he wants me all to himself and I really don’t mind; he is one of the sweetest and most attentive partners I have ever had.
A smile plays on my lips when I think about him.
I’m so down bad.
Almost as though my thoughts have summoned him, I hear my phone ding in my purse across the room. A smile spreads across my face as I get up to answer Jake’s text. I love that I can always count on him texting me when he gets home.
Unlike some of my exes, I think, opening my purse to grab my phone.
My brow furrows when I see that the text is not from Jake, but from a number that’s not in my contacts. Resigned to opening yet another spam text, I tap on the messages and stop dead in my tracks.
Unknown: I would like to meet with you face to face, if possible. I think we have a lot to talk about.
A nervous laugh escapes me as my stomach twists itself into a knot. It’s an odd, even slightly creepy, message to receive, but it’s the picture attached beneath it that has me transfixed to my screen.
On the left is a gorgeous woman with faded pinkish-red hair falling in loose waves to just below her shoulders. The delicious curves she boasts are only outshone by the megawatt smile on her face. She is looking over at the other person with what could only be pure, consuming love on her face.
My eyes slide over to the other person in the photo and my breath catches, a tear slipping down my cheek. It’s Jake. Holding her and looking at her the same way he looks at me.
The phone dings twice more while I am staring, unblinking, at the photo. My brain is still struggling to process what I am looking at as I mechanically scroll to look at the new messages. Finally, a sob tears its way out of my throat as I feel my heart split in two.
Unknown: My name is Aria. This was taken on our 5th anniversary last month.
Unknown: I’m so sorry.