Chapter 7
Luke
The week passed without much excitement. I stayed focused, refining our sales strategy, polishing the pitch for Williams, exploring new angles, partners, and ways to better connect with our audience. All while trying to avoid dwelling on the other idea that Ethan and Alex kept pushing.
An hour later, we met with Williams to discuss the plans. We reviewed our shortlist and outlined the strategy. Williams asked a few questions occasionally but seemed deep in thought.
“These are solid options,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “Keep thinking. Reach out and gauge interest,” he added, closing the meeting. None of the options felt quite right, and I sensed Williams felt the same.
Even with all the formalities, I’ve always seen Williams as a father figure. His steady guidance earned my deep respect, fueling a drive to make him proud. Try harder. Be better.
I hadn’t been in the right headspace these past few days. Even though I was excited about the project, my mind kept drifting back to the guy at the coffee shop and Hazel. How she smiled when talking about her college years. Was she okay? Was she safe? Did she see my note?
I reminded myself that no one could hear my thoughts.
Just because they existed didn’t make them real—a lesson my therapist taught me during my anxiety-filled teen years.
Still, I pictured Hazel joining our trip.
It could be nice. Everyone else was paired off, and maybe then the girls would finally stop guilt-tripping me.
And Hazel could help with the language, too.
Lately, she seemed to live at O’Riley’s. She was there mornings and evenings, even when I passed by during my late runs, even though I hated running. Always working, never alone. That eased the urge to find an excuse to talk to her.
Tuesday evening, I passed O’Riley’s and saw Hazel behind the counter. I’d seen her that same morning. My chest tightened at the sight of her.
I made a split-second decision, and before I knew it, the doorbell rang as I stepped into the coffee shop. She didn’t notice me right away, but I noticed her. Tiredness in her movements, the dark rings under her eyes. She looked completely drained.
“Good evening, milady,” I tried to lighten the mood with the liquid courage coursing through my bloodstream.
“Hi,” she replied with a smile, but her eyes told a different story.
“Isn’t it a bit late for coffee?”
“I just saw the lights on and came in. Didn’t you work this morning, too?”
“Yeah, well... girl’s gotta eat,” she joked.
It didn’t feel funny to me.
“You should rest more. Or maybe take a vacation,” I added quietly.
Don’t do it, man.
“Vacation, right. Let me just grab my diamond shoes and my unlimited privilege for vacation as a full-time barista.”
Don’t ask her. Don’t do it. Absolutely do not do it.
It’s going to mess with your head. She probably can’t go anyway.
So just offer. Just offer like a normal person.
Remember—you’re a normal human person, and this is a normal question.
Besides, a break for her would help her more than hurt you.
You can control yourself. You can. And you can handle your stupid friends and their inevitably stupid jokes.
I was losing a mental tug-of-war.
“Hazel, can I talk to you for a second,” I said, glancing at Thomas in the corner, “privately?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure, I guess. Hope I’m not in trouble, officer.”
I chuckled. How was she always able to disarm me so quickly?
Hazel turned back to me, her blond ponytail swinging over her shoulder. She took off her apron, revealing a black A-line skirt that ended just above her knees. My eyes instinctively went to her legs, but I forced myself to look away. Nice legs, though.
We walked to the booth, and I scrambled to figure out what I was even going to say.
“So, what’s up?” Hazel asked, her gaze locking onto me. For a second, I froze. Those blue eyes had been messing with my head as long as I’ve known her, like they held some secret I couldn’t stop chasing.
I cleared my throat, breaking the spell, then looked down at my hands, still unsure how to start.
“Okay,” I started. “So here’s the thing. The guys and I are taking this trip, like you heard. To Portugal. And last time you mentioned you’ve been there and that you speak the language and somehow...” I tried to put it as lightly as possible, “it looks like you could use a vacation.”
Her smile faltered into mild confusion.
“So, here’s my offer—take some time off, come with us, take a break, and maybe show us around a bit.”
She gave me a long look before bursting into laughter. It wasn’t hysterical, just genuine, heartfelt laughter. Hazel wiped a tear from her eye and met my gaze.
“I appreciate the offer and your well-timed pity, but it’s ridiculous.
I barely know you guys. I simply don’t have the money or time for a two-week trip, and no one’s letting me vanish that long.
And like I said, I don’t need your charity.
” She looked down, clearly regretting that last word, twisting her fingers nervously in her lap.
“First, you know us better than you think. You know where we work, what we do, and all our coffee orders by heart. You know we’re decent guys who’d never hurt or embarrass you.
Most importantly, you know Logan has a pickle tattoo on his ass.
You can always use that against him. I’ve got more dirt if it helps. ”
She cracked the smallest smile, and I ran with it.
“Second, it wouldn’t just be us. Norah, Summer, and Ava are coming too—the wife club, as I call them. We’re all going together this year.
“As for money, since we work at the same company and there’s a little,” I hesitated, then leaned into the lie, “sales interest in Portugal, the ticket is covered, and the house is already reserved. It’s a work trip. Sort of. Plus, you’d be doing us a huge favor as our guide and translator.”
She looked at me, still suspicious. “Most of Portugal speaks English.”
“Yeah, but it’s always better to speak the local language, blend in a little,” I said, grasping for more reasons.
A loud sound startled us—her phone. In a quick reflex, she knocked the napkin holder off the table, gasping.
“It’s okay, I’ll get it,” I said.
She grabbed her phone, murmuring that she’d call back while I crouched to retrieve the holder.
But then I made the mistake of glancing at her.
Her legs crossed, skirt slightly hiked, and a well-hidden surprise—a black tattoo of a tree curling up her thigh.
Roots stretched higher beneath the fabric.
I couldn’t see all of it, but what I did see sent heat pulsing through me so fast it hurt.
I looked away quickly, trying to breathe normally and avoid imagining things. By the time Hazel finished her call, I was still pretending I wasn’t seconds away from losing it.
“Okay, where were we? Oh, yes, you were being ridicul—”
“YOU LOOK EXHAUSTED,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. She froze. So did I.
“I didn’t mean it like that. You look fine. Very nice, actually.” I suddenly felt like an immigrant struggling to find the right words. “I just...” I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to be honest. I thought I’d only had two beers. Stupid alcohol.
“I just... I’ve noticed you’ve been working a lot. It seems like you could use a break. And we kind of have this opportunity to offer you.”
“I don’t need your pity,” she said quietly, looking away, embarrassed. I hated that.
“It’s not pity. It would be helpful since you know the city.”
“Bullshit. You can go there without a guide or translator. You don’t need me there.”
I cleared my throat again. “Okay, there’s this other thing.” I felt like a schoolboy talking to the principal. “I kind of implied to certain people that... we, uh, are a possible item.”
“What?” Her eyes widened, her breath catching.
“Please don’t be mad. Let me explain.” I inhaled. “The wife club’s always trying to set me up with women I’m not into. I mean, I am into women, just not into dating. So last time, I kind of snapped and told them I already had someone in mind... sort of... to get them to stop.”
“So you named me?”
“No, actually, Ethan and Alex did it to mess with me. They’re convinced I’m into you, but I’m not. I’M NOT, I swear.” Her face mirrored the same chaos I felt inside my own mind.
“It got out of hand. I was just trying to avoid hurting their feelings while keeping them at bay, and it just happened.”
“Are you serious? Who am I? A character in Elena Armas’s novel? Ahh...” she suddenly gushed loudly. “Am I Catalina?”
“Who?”
“Are you gonna fall in love with me, although you shouldn’t?
Ahh, it’s so sad already, I can’t.” She was mocking me, and I didn’t even get the reference.
That beautiful tree-tattooed angel. Once I get home, I should circle back to this entire exchange and, as any self-respecting adult, proceed to thoroughly roast myself in the privacy of my own apartment. You, pathetic soy boy.
“No, it’s just... I don’t want a relationship. I don’t need one. But it’s hard to convince people that sex can just be sex, and I don’t need someone around to spend half my paycheck and tell me to cut caffeine. I’m a big boy,” I tried to lighten the mood, taking back control of my thoughts.
“So, how would this work? I’d have to lie and pretend in front of people? Or is this some friends-with-benefits situation?” Her voice was tight with anger.
“No, no. I just said I was interested, not that we were together. So, no acting, no physical stuff. The house is set up with separate rooms for couples—I’ll make sure you and I have separate beds.
All I’m asking is for you to hang out, maybe help translate some Portuguese.
That’s it.” She still didn’t look convinced.
“On my end, I’m not bringing any girls to my room. Just quality time with my friends. And you,” I said, unsure how to define her place in that sentence. “I know I’m irresistible and all that, but I promise not to make advances. I might flirt a little, though. I’m just a man, after all.”
Hazel rolled her eyes, and it felt like us again—light and breezy.
“If, however, you decide to indulge your guilty pleasures, who am I to stop you?” A pathetic attempt at charm, but at least it made her laugh.
“Thank you, big boy. This has been a strangely entertaining way to end my shift, but I’m going to pass.” She stood and adjusted her skirt.
“Come on, Hazel. Just think about it.”
“Luke, first, you can have any girl to pretend to be your ‘fake Hazel’. I officially allow you to use my name. Second, I could never get that much time off work, so it’s not happening.
Thanks for the offer, though.” She turned and went back to the counter, leaving me without anything else to say.
I sighed, feeling both relieved and disappointed. At least I tried, right?
I got up, glanced at Hazel and Thomas in the corner, said my goodbyes, and stepped outside, thinking about her tattoo and the tired lines on her face.