Chapter 7
Coffi - Coffee
Rhys
The phone rings while I’m getting out of the shower, an omen that today’s gonna be rough.
Good bloody job I live on my own. Nobody’s subjected to my bare, soggy arse legging it to answer the call.
Better not be Lucy. I put in the team diary that I'm not starting until nine. Gethin’ll be getting a complaint sent to him if she’s bothering me.
Cai’s not going anywhere until ten. He’s safe behind those big fuck-off gates. And I’m allowed to shower.
‘Yeah?’
‘Bore da. Is that Mr Pritchett?’
‘It’s Rhys, yeah.’
‘Tidy. It’s Iestyn from The Record Shop. Lucy told me to give you a call to talk arrangements for Cai’s visit later? Thought I’d nab you before we open.’
‘Ah, great. Let me grab something to jot on.’ Now I need a pen, I’ve nothing in my flat. Not even a marker to scrawl notes on my body. Fuck it. I’m careful which button to press when I switch to speaker so I don’t inadvertently flash Iestyn, then open the notes app. ‘All right, shoot.’
‘I have five guys I can book in to mind the place, you see.’
‘Their vettings all in place?’
‘All up to date and if you send the NDA to me now, I’ll have them sign it when they clock in.’
Fucking love dealing with professionals who already know the game. And having five guards there already means I don’t have to scramble for a team this morning. With Richie not free at such short fucking notice, it’s only me. I’m the bare minimum, but what else can I do?
The conversation doesn’t last long. Once we’ve covered exits and access, we’re kind of done for this sort of event.
So, half an hour later, I’m dried, dressed and sitting at the kitchen table in Cai’s house.
It’s my favourite place in the whole building – bright and airy, close to the coffee.
He went for a farmhouse look for the room, picking out an antique breakfast table with neutral checked cloths and cushions.
The table’s in a nook, sheltered by two pistachio coloured walls and directly opposite a set of bi-fold doors, which are always open in the summer.
The rain lashes against the glass right now, and they’re firmly shut.
I drum my pencil on my thigh. It’s too quiet.
Although it’s way past nine, I’ve not seen anyone else.
Lucy’s here, if her heels tucked into the bottom row of the shoe stand are anything to go by, and she’s probably squirrelled away in her office.
I won’t be giving her a knock to find out.
Got nothing to say to her. Well, aside from that she was right and the store does have everything we need.
And I won’t be doing that. Won’t give her the satisfaction.
In front of me’s the plan for later. I’ve been gawping at it for ages now.
There has to be a gap, something I’ve not thought about.
The shop has a walkie system, and enough talkies for me and Lucy to have one each on top of the staff there.
There’s only two ways in and out, only one of them’s open to the public, and they’re already setting up the barriers to manage the queue into the store.
The shop is closed to the public and access for the rest of the day will only be for ticket holders. Nothing else for me to do.
It’s all brilliant, but there’s a feeling in my gut that I’m missing something.
Fuck knows what. I’m the damn security expert in this setup.
It’s my job to sort all of this. Makes me itchy that I’ve not had any input aside from emailing the NDAs when I got in.
I’m surprised Lucy didn’t do it for me, mind.
She’s too bloody efficient, organising all of this during rehearsals yesterday.
Meet and greets usually take weeks of planning.
For good reason, too. Stars have been murdered in the past.
‘Rhys, wyt ti eisiau coffi?’
‘What?’
‘Coffee?’ Cai beams across the kitchen at me. ‘Ffyc it, you look like you need five.’
He pads over to nab my empty mug, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I rub my eyes. He could have been there for ages. I was engrossed in my paperwork and didn’t notice him coming in. All his extra rehearsing has him treading too fucking lightly. I’m gonna have to buy him a bell.
My mug’s in front of me before I have time to blink, and he slides into the nook next to me. ‘Okay?’
‘Trying to sort out shit for this morning, but the store’s got everything covered.’
‘Isn’t that, like, your dream? You’re always on about how much you hate working.’
‘Only ‘cos you’re a pain in the arse, butt.’
‘I do my best.’
My attention floats to the plan, and I sip my coffee.
It’s burnt and way too bitter, but I drink it to please him.
If I don’t bring up his skills as a barista, then he might not poke me on whatever he thinks is going on.
He slurps his drink in the loudest way possible.
Once he’s smacked his lips together, he says, ‘So what’s niggling you? ’
Dammit. He’s still coming in for the goss.
‘Nothing.’ We’ve known each other for years; it’s not hard to open up to him.
But he’s already shown how much he loves having Lucy here.
I wouldn’t say he’s picked a side, but he chose the empty seat next to her instead of me at dinner last night, which speaks volumes.
He usually sits next to me, unless we’re out with Bethan or Topaz.
‘Rhys.’
A risky glance shows his eyes narrowed at me. His brown curls sticking up like a crown of tiny sprigs don’t weaken his serious face. Ah, fuck’s sake. He’s not gonna drop this.
‘It’s…’
Cai shifts forward to the edge of his seat, leaning into the conversation like it’s the juiciest steak he’s ever seen. ‘What?’
‘Well, if you stopped interrupting me I’d tell you.’ I huff and spin the piece of paper in front of me three times. ‘If Lucy carries on being too fucking good, I reckon Gethin might get rid of me.’
To his credit, he doesn’t answer with protests, screaming about how valuable I am. Our friendship’s way beyond that. Gone are the days where we say yes to keep each other on side. It’s harsh truths or nothing.
He drinks more coffee, then plonks the mug on the table, splashing the green checked cloth and my plan in the process. Good job I didn’t have much scribbled down. ‘She a security expert, is she?’
‘I dunno. I mean, I don’t think so.’
‘Right. Gethin hired her to organise me. You’re useful for other stuff, though. Moral support. Looking menacing when people get too close. Holding all the presents I get.’
‘So, looking pretty next to you and being your pack mule?’
‘That, and keeping me safe. Gethin’s not got plans to replace you. Well, not that he’s told me. Especially not with Lucy. Maybe another security guy if you get shit. But she’s not all bad, is she? Got some good ideas.’
‘She’s already running the place. Bossing us around, sticking her nose where it’s not needed.’
‘Everything she’s come up with so far’s been good’
‘But none of it worked when Margaret—’
‘Margaret wasn’t a great fit for us. He admitted it.
I reckon Lucy’s better and the harder you resist her, the trickier shit will get.
We made Margaret’s life fucking difficult, but we should make more of an effort with Lucy.
She’s here to organise shit, not ruin our lives.
And I bet she’s a lot more fun than Topaz let on.
Give her more than a couple of days, Rhys. ’
It’s only been twenty-four hours, and I’m already fed up with her. From the constant alerts for me to do something, to the emails and the questions about how we like to do things here. There’s not a bible on looking after Cai. The git asks for shit, we get it done.
Three months is a long-ass probation, especially if Cai’s already in fucking love with her. Means I can’t blow off steam by moaning about her, can I. Unless Richie fancies playing therapist, but I fucking doubt it.
I could roll over like Cai says, but Lucy’s too meddling. My dad used to say stick to your job and do it well. Not that I take a lot of advice from him, but the motto drives how I work. She should focus on her shit and let me sort out mine.
‘I’ll stop resisting when she stops doing my job for me,’ I tell him.
‘She didn’t. The record store arranged everything. Anyway, I’m always going to need you.’ He rests his head on my bicep. Adorable goon. ‘I can’t let Gethin fire you cos Beth will never forgive me.’
I take back the adorable part. He’s just a goon. I yank my arm from him. ‘Oh, I see. I’m only useful for keeping you in my sister’s good books.’
‘Yep. In case she ever wants me again. Gotta be ready for it.’
‘You’re an idiot.’ She’d have him back straight away, but I’m not gonna tell him. He’ll work it out. Eventually.
‘Yep. Let me see your plans?’
‘Why? Are you coming for my job next?’
He scowls at me then stretches across for my drawings.
Although I fight him, his grabby hands win and he snatches my paperwork.
Pointless, really, since there’s nothing on it.
Only a rough sketch of the store based on the handful of times I’d been there and some photos I found online.
No ideas on how to optimise the queue or where I’d position the extra guards to maximise eyes on the crowd.
‘Well, it’s a pretty picture.’
I’m about to tell him where he can shove my pretty picture when my phone vibrates.
REMINDER: THIRTY MINUTES UNTIL EVENT: LEAVE THE HOUSE
‘See!’ I shove my phone at him. ‘Notification after notification.’
‘She’s trying to be helpful. It’s her job.’
‘It’s annoying.’ I chug the rest of my coffee and stand. He can keep my stupid drawing. Fat load of good it is. We’ll stick with the store’s plans, but it won’t stop me being irritated over doing nothing to help.
‘Where you going?’ he asks.
‘Got my summons, haven’t I? Time to get ready. P’raps you should do the same. Can’t meet your adoring fans looking like you’ve not showered.’ I lean over to muss his hair.
‘Oy! I worked hard on my hairdo. Bed head’s all the rage.’
‘Uhuh, sure. See you in twenty-nine minutes and four seconds, butt.’
A ten- and five-minute warning pops onto my screen while I finish getting ready in my office.
I swipe them away. “Fuck the fuck off.’
Blasting heavy rock music helped to shake off my funk, but my grump returns at the sight of Lucy and Cai waiting in the foyer, shoes and coats on and chatting away like they’re long-lost besties. Way too fucking keen.
Both of them wear blue, making them look like the freaking twins from The Shining. Come and play with us, Rhys. Nope. They can fuck the fuck off, too. I ain’t going anywhere until it’s time for us to leave.
I shove my feet into my trainers. ‘I’d have come earlier if I knew there’d be a welcome party.’
‘We wanted to make sure we were ready in time,’ she says, way too enthusiastic. She reminds me of the new kid in school, so eager to make friends that they overdo it and piss everyone off. ‘It’s not far, but you don’t know what the traffic could be like.’
‘Yeah, I do. Mid-week, ten in the morning’s fine.
Past the school traffic and most people’re already in work by then.
Won’t be too much bother at all.’ I shouldn’t argue with her, but something about her I-know-best tone gets my goat.
‘You set the time for us to leave, right? And you researched it all, yeah?’ She nods, and I snatch a look at my watch.
‘So I’ve got one minute and thirteen seconds before we have to go anywhere. ’
By now, my coat’s zipped and there’s not much else for me to do. It takes me all of ten seconds to snag my car keys off the side, and all three of us wait like lemons in the foyer.
‘Oh, I made us all a coffee for the trip.’ She digs in the massive tote bag that seems glued to her shoulder and pulls out my travel mug. She jiggles it at me.
Ignore it. It’s a trap. Part of her plan to oust you and take over as Cai’s best friend and favourite co-worker. Staring at the cup dries my mouth, though. Fucking traitor.
I snatch the coffee without thanks. The first sip explodes in my mouth like a mini orgasm. A hint of caramel, the right amount of bitterness perfectly balanced with a spoonful of sugar. I hate the way my tongue slides over my lips to get all of it.
Coffee this good can only come from somewhere exotic and expensive.
Like the Skyline Cafe that sits on 3rd Avenue, a tiny little thing squished between two skyscrapers.
It was Thanksgiving, and New York was slammed.
Customers were bursting out of the seams, desperate for a slice of pumpkin pie and a break from the bitter winds that whipped through the city.
A promise of a photo on social media helped to clear a table and move Cai up the queue.
Hands down the best coffee I’ve ever tasted.
Lucy’s might beat it, though. Must be some sort of wizard, since she worked out how I like it. Unless…
‘Already nosed through my phone, huh,’ I quip. There’s enough photos of the sacred drink in my gallery. I’m nothing if not a connoisseur. ‘Been looking for my coffee order, is it?’
She frowns. ‘No. Cai told me.’
‘But he can’t make coffee for shit.’
‘Be nice, Rhys.’ Cai pokes my side. He’s a traitor, too.
All three of our phones ping at the same time, putting a stop to all his betrayal.
REMINDER: LEAVE THE HOUSE
Gee, thanks for the reminder, Lucy.