4. Tobias
CHAPTER 4
Tobias
H er eyes glaze over after our quarrel and not in a good way. You can hear a pin drop in the back alley despite the cacophony from the garbage truck and street sweeper coming from out front.
Her eyes are wet, like she was crying before I approached her, and she’s so damn cute, even all teary, that I almost feel sorry for her.
A cell phone, hers I’m assuming, rings. She digs through her oversized purse that seems to be brimming with papers and grabs her phone.
“Hey, Dad.” She looks down at her feet for a moment. “Yeah, I’m, uh, good. At the café.” I’ve never heard her stammer before. Is she not as confident as she comes off as? Hmm. Maybe I shouldn’t have approached her in the alley. She’s obviously distracted because she ran right into me. Or is her father an asshole? Did she come running to Port Haven to escape him? I have no way of knowing what’s going on with her. She’s obviously late for a reason. Maybe she’s flustered by our little run-in, and she’s letting it impact her conversation with her dad.
She turns toward the back door and disappears into her café without another glance my way.I contemplate going after her, but that would be pushing boundaries. That is her café, and I can’t just let myself in. It’s so tempting, though, because I didn’t get the satisfaction of even a little bitty, “Oh shit,” from her at my news, which is exactly what I was hoping she’d give me.
Am I the asshole for wanting to goad that kind of reaction out of her? Probably. But I still wanted to see the moment it dawned on her how much of an outsider she is in Port Haven. A quiet cry of exacerbated struggle, telling me she’s unprepared to deal with the firestorm I’m bringing upon her.
One thing I know for sure—she’s a daddy’s girl. He bought her this place, and I’m going to ruin it for her so she runs back home where she belongs.
I walk into my bookstore. My personal haven in Port Haven. I’ve always loved books. I got that love from my grandma who was always urging me into her lap to curl up with her and read. She read to me, and then I to her when I was old enough.
Kelleher Bookseller’s has been in my family for three generations, and as a young child, I would curl up with a story on my maroon beanbag in the back and fall into a new world. Like hell am I going to roll over and let Goth Girl ruin this neighborhood with her liquor license. That café was supposed to be mine. And it will be. At a reduced price, I bet, by the time I’m done.
I come through the back of the store, hearing Jerry chatting with a customer and friend of his about fishing, and walk right out the front entrance to stand at the café door just as she unlocks it.
I push my way in, and she raises a few fingers, silently asking for a moment.
“Dad, I’m kind of busy. I love you, too. I’ll call you after work. Oh. That’s right. Okay. Later, then. Love you. Bye.” She pivots, turning her back to me as she slips her phone into her back pocket and takes her place behind the counter.
“I’m getting a late start today. I don’t have anything brewed yet, and the pastries aren’t in the case.” She sighs and her shoulders slump ever-so slightly, making me think she’s giving up on the day or the town hall or possibly both. I can only hope that she’s ready to give in. It certainly would fit into my plans. This might work out for me after all.
“How about I bring you over a cup of whatever you’d like and a pastry when the coffee’s done?” She holds a pen to a notepad, ready to take my order. “It’ll be on the house.”
She tilts her head up to look at me. “Actually, I’ll bring Jerry over something, too. I know what he likes. What about you?”
“Free?” She’s not going to maintain her business giving away free stuff. Little Miss UCLA with a master’s in business should know that. “I take my coffee with two sugars and a dash of whole milk.”
She scribbles something on her notepad, then turns her back to me again and gives a stiff nod. “I’ll be over with it in about fifteen.”
I started this day wanting to rub the town hall thing in her face, but I’ll take free coffee from the cute goth girl. Who doesn’t love free? And if she keeps giving her product for nothing, she’ll be out of business before she knows it so double yay for me. I turn and go back over to Kelleher Bookseller’s with a smile on my face. Miraculously, she’s brightened my day even though I meant to dim hers.
I don’t say anything about the coffee to Jerry in case she lied just to get me out of her establishment. I mean, you never know. She knows I’m not her biggest fan, and I’m sure the feeling is mutual.
Fifteen minutes later, she strolls into my bookstore with two hot beverages and pastry bags.She looks a little more put together than she did earlier and a lot more confident with her shoulders squared and her high pigtails swaying, the ends looking like they were dipped in bright pink dye.
She walks over to Jerry first and gives him a drink and a bag. Her smile is bright with him as they have a brief conversation I can’t hear from up front. Then, she comes over to the register and sets mine down in front of me.
“There you go. Medium roast with two sugars and a splash of whole milk along with a lemon poppyseed scone for you.” She pauses to look up at me, and I’m not sure if she wants praise for getting the coffee right or what. But lemon poppyseed sounds dreadful, and I don’t like scones—they’re dry.
“Oh, and before I forget…” She slips her hand into her back pocket and retrieves a gift card with a mermaid on it that she slides across the counter. “That’s for Marie. If you don’t mind giving it to her.”
“Marie?” I squint at her. She brought my part-time employee a gift card?
She nods but doesn’t take her eyes off the piece of plastic between us. “She comes in most mornings and has recommended The SeaSong to a couple of her friends. Thank her for me.”
She finally looks up and makes eye contact with me for the first time since she’s come into the store. Her eyes are an interesting shade of dark blue I can’t name. It’s almost hypnotic, like the sea.
“Did you have more you wanted to say? I cut you short taking that call, but it was my dad, so you never know if it’s an emergency or whatever. It wasn’t. But you know. Parents.” She tips her head to the side and rolls her eyes, proof of just how young she is. Someday, she’ll understand when she has to make decisions for them. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, but I’m beginning to think it’s inevitable for every one of us.
There’s still something off about her, though. She doesn’t have her normal sass or spunky comebacks. She seems almost downtrodden. Maybe she’s finally homesick enough that she’ll leave and go home. I need to quit thinking like this—I’m only getting my hopes up.
“Nope. I just wanted to make sure you knew about the town hall meeting, so you can’t go around saying no one told you and try to garner a sympathy vote.” As soon as I’ve finished my sentence, her posture snaps up. She stands a little taller, her shoulders now back, and her chin jutting up as her eyes pin me down.
“I don’t know who you think you are, or what I’ve done to make you hate me so much, but I sure as fuck don’t need your sympathy. Or anyone else’s, for that matter.” She takes a long second to look at the coffee cup she placed on the counter, and for a second, I think she might be considering throwing it at me. And maybe she is, but she turns and heads out the door instead, slamming it just a little too hard to be an accident as she leaves.
“What put a bee in her bonnet?” Jerry takes a long drink of his beverage and a bite of his pastry, eyes glimmering at me in amusement as he does.
“I told her that I put her liquor license on the town hall’s agenda.”
“Ahh, that’ll do it.” He takes another bite. “I know you wanted that space to expand here and all, but why are you really after that poor girl?” He watches me as he chews slowly. “You’re almost like the little boy who pulls the pigtails of the girl he likes on the playground. Is that it? Do you have a thing for her? Because if you do, this is not the way adults express their interest.”
“What? Hardly! And she is not a poor girl. Her daddy bought her that café. Don’t tell me she’s swayed you to her side?” He can’t possibly be serious.
“She does keep me supplied with these yummy handmade crullers from Amanda.” He holds his pastry up so I can get a good look at it. How come he got a doughnut, and I got a scone? He chuckles, probably at what I assume is my expression. Jerry knows how much I love doughnuts. I rarely eat them. They aren’t good for me. But I do love them.
“You get a doughnut, and I get a lemon poppyseed scone.” The last two words curl my nose at the thought of all those tiny black seeds.Blegh.
“Don’t turn your nose up. The scones are decent. Amanda makes most of those too. But Miss Harmony knows I have a soft spot for crullers, so she makes sure that she has some on hand just in case I slip over there with my daughter after work. Speaking of, I see her now.” He gets up and grabs his coffee and what’s left of his doughnut and heads for the front door.
He pauses before he pulls it open. “You’d do good to have an actual conversation with Harmony about her intentions with the café. She might surprise you. Seems to me she has a strong business sense and has a pretty level head on her shoulders.”And with that little nugget, Jerry slips out of the bookstore and into his daughter’s car that’s double parked out front.
When Marie comes in for her afternoon shift, I make sure to give her the card from the coffee shop next door. She cringes as she takes it.
“What’s the face for? Don’t you like that place? You seem to have a pink cup in your hand nearly every morning.”
She nods a little too vigorously. “I do. That’s the problem, Toby.” She sighs as she throws the card into her backpack that she slings under the counter.
“The problem?”
She nods, but it’s more than that. It’s in the way she averts her eyes and tucks her chin in.
“Spit it out,” I tell her.
“I’m saving up for a car. My parents told me they’d pay for part of it, but I have to pay for more than half myself.” She gazes out the store’s front windows, then looks back at me. “I know you hate The SeaSong and all that, but Harmony offered me a job. I’m sorry, Toby, but she has more hours for me and will pay me more. Plus, I get tips there and free drinks and food, and…it’s just cool there.”
I have to hand it to Marie. At least she looks like she feels bad about jumping ship.
She shrugs. “Jerry told me I should ask you for more money, but I want to work there. She told me she’d train me so that I can be the only person there on Saturdays so she can take the day off. Basically, I’d be, like, a manager.”
Marie’s never shown interest in being a manager here. Not that I’ve ever mentioned it to her but that’s because I don’t think she’s manager material. She’s way too young and impulsive. She’s a freaking teenager. I can’t believe Goth Girl thinks that’s a good idea. But it’s her business to make mistakes with.And when she starts racking them up, I’ll be the one benefiting.