Page 75 of Common Grounds

“She was tired because you both barely slept, and then you woke her up at the crack of dawn to bring her here, didn’t you?” he guesses again.

“Basically,” I admit.

Mike smacks the table with his open palm. Porcelain clinks again on the counter, but there’s no crash. I eye James sidelong, but he seems engrossed in the list he has in front of him. The kid is determined to learn how to make some of the new drinks on the menu. I don’t know what lit the fire under him, but if he can figure it out, I’ll be glad for the help.

“You need a day off to spend with your woman.”

“I can’t take a day off. Things are just starting to pick up, and I don’t have managerial staff.” I say the last sentence quietly to avoid offending James. The poor kid is trying, at least.

Mike leans forward, flattening his palms on the table. “I can do it.”

“Do what?”

“Manage the shop for a morning,” he says. “I practically work here. I used to work here in the summers while we were in college. It’ll be like riding a bike.”

I shake my head slowly. “You work all week. I can’t ask you to do that on your weekend.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. And, on that note, you really need to figure out a way to take days off. You’re going to work yourself to the bone. Emery deserves someone who can spend some time with her.”

He’s not wrong. Emery deserves that and so much more. I’d love to hire more staff, but until things turn around, I can’t afford it. Which highlights another problem in his little plan.

“I can’t pay you.” I shrug apologetically. As much as I’d like to take him up on this offer, it’s not in the budget.

“I’m doing it pro bono. I mean, I’ll be drinking free coffee all day, so we can call it even.”

“That’s not even,” I counter.

“Who cares?” He looks around the shop as if he’s worried someone will hear him. There are, miraculously, a couple of people sitting at various tables, but all of them have headphones on. “You’re my best friend. You’ve put up with a lot of my shit over the years. Let me do this for you.”

It’s the most sincere I’ve ever seen him. I’m touched. And a little wary, if I’m being honest. I’ll probably owe him big time, and he’ll most likely cash in at a really inconvenient time, but right now, I can’t think of anything better than a lazy day with Emery, exploring and learning about each other.

“Okay,” I say slowly. “Yeah. I would really appreciate that.”

Mike flashes me a goofy grin and rubs his palms together. “Awesome. Yes. This is great. I’ve always wanted to play Cupid. You know, without the diapers. Anyway, text your woman and see what she’s doing this weekend, because you’ve officially got your very own love hero ready to make shit happen.”

Chapter twenty-nine

Emery

On Friday evening, I arrive at Cass and Vi’s house promptly at five o’clock carrying a homemade lasagna for a pregnant woman with a craving.

Once today’s article had been published and I made sure it was posted without a hitch, I had snuck out of the office. I thought about going to the shop to see what Trevor thought of it but decided to go home and pass out instead. With little sleep on Wednesday night, then burning the midnight oil with final edits on Thursday, by this morning, I was barely functional. I slept like the dead for about five hours before my phone rang. I answered it to Violet’s forced calm, begging me to make a lasagna and come over for dinner because Cass said she couldn’t rest until she had one made with mom’s recipe. Cass was crying because mom wouldn’t be making one for her. I heard her sobs in the background, and it damn near broke my cold, black heart. So, I dragged myself out of bed, made the lasagna, put on something that passed for clothing, and now I’m standing here—on time, I might add—waiting for someone to answer the door.

When the door finally opens, Vi is standing there in sleep shorts and her shirt on inside out. Her hair, which is now bright pink and shaved on the bottom half, is standing on end at the top. Her skin is flushed, and she seems a little out of breath.

I shake my head slightly. “You invited me over.”

Violet nods. “I did.”

“You begged me to make a lasagna.” I hold the casserole dish up so she can see it.

“Yes.”

“But you’re going to answer the door like that?” I wave a hand up and down, encompassing her disarray.

Vi shrugs, opening the door wider and motioning for me to come inside. “Cass was sad. I was trying to make her feel better.” She bounces her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh my god,” I groan.

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