Page 52 of Common Grounds

I throw my bag over my shoulder, then tug the bottom of my blouse back down, cursing how short it is. That’ll show me for trying to be stylish. “Well, there you go. You’re a latte genius, Trevor.” I circle a finger in the air. “Add them all to the menu. I have to get going, but I’m glad to have been able to help. See you all… soon.” And with that, I’m out the door before anyone can stop me.

Once outside, I take a deep breath of the humid, summer air. It’s still before noon, but it’s already hot and sticky outside, and the sun is beating on the downtown pavement. I’m wearing silk, and I don’t want to get it all sweaty, but I opt to walk back to the magazine office anyway to clear my head. I have an article to write, and even though I’m positive Ethan and Josie will give me crap for going to the shop instead of coming in this morning, it’s worth it to have some quiet time to work. And to not have Trevor hanging out in my field of vision all day.

Chapter twenty

Trevor

I stare at the door Emery just ran out of until Cass clears her throat pointedly, which draws me out of my stupor. I wince in her direction, which is when I realize she’s looking at me with a healthy dose of sympathy.

We stare at each other in silence for a second before the two young women who came in earlier take their lattes and leave in a flourish of giggles, their heads bent over one of their phones.

The whole energy in the place has shifted, and I’m not sure why. I’d say maybe it’s the absence of the other women, but I fear it’s me. I feel completely dejected.

James seems engrossed in his own phone, probably working on editing our social media profiles. I never could figure those out. Cass is still regarding me over his head as she chews on the side of her mouth. The scrutiny is starting to make me uncomfortable.

“What?” I ask.

She averts her eyes. “Nothing.”

“Okay.” I draw the word out as I start to clear away Emery’s cups. I try very hard not to think about the fact that her lips were just pressed against their edges as I rinse them in the sink, but I run my thumb over a lipstick stain on one anyway.

I must be lost in my own thoughts again because I jump about a mile when I turn around and Cass is about a foot from me, leaning her elbows on the counter.

“I know you’ve got it bad for my sister.” Her tone is matter-of-fact, though I think I detect some teasing.

I sputter a little, then raise my arms away from my sides in a shrug and let them fall. No point in denying it anymore, I suppose. She wouldn’t believe me anyway.

She hums, propping her chin in her palm. “While I’d love to see her with someone again, you might be fighting a lost cause.” Her eyes widen slightly as if she hadn’t meant to say that, but she recovers quickly.

I don’t want to show my hand, so I shrug a shoulder. I’m curious to see where this goes. If she hadn’t meant to let it slip that Emery had been with someone seriously before, then she must not know Emery already told me—albeit briefly—about what I gather is a past marriage.

I sweep a hand to indicate the entirety of the shop we’re standing in. “I’m a sucker for a lost cause, I guess.”

She narrows her eyes as if sizing me up. “That’s… it? That’s all you have to say about this?”

“Doesn’t seem like there’s much else to say.” I lower my voice, teasing as I lean forward on the counter across from her and meet her gaze head-on. “You’d love to see her with someone again,” I emphasize the word, and she presses her mouth into a slit. “And you think it’s not going to happen. Agree to disagree.” I wink.

She circles a long, manicured finger in my direction. “Your charm doesn’t work on me, young man. I’m not interested in you like some of the other people who have been in and out of here lately.” She tilts her head and shifts her gaze to the side as if something just occurred to her.

I decide to press forward. “I know you care about her a great deal,” I try. Her gaze snaps back to mine, and she bristles. I think I struck a chord, but maybe it’s enough to crack this code. “And I know you know that I care about her, too. So why don’t you tell me whatever it is you clearly want to say.”

She suddenly goes languid, yawns, and rubs her protruding belly. “She’s thirty-seven, Trevor. She’s got some baggage, is all.” Her air of nonchalance is forced. Her movements are stiff, and her voice is a bit robotic.

I regard her for another moment, but she’s studying the counter in front of her like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever seen. Her hand rests on her belly in a reminder not to mess with the pregnant woman.

Fine. She’s won this round, I suppose. From what I have seen so far, she’s stubborn as hell, and I’m not desperate enough to beg, especially because I think I already know what she’s holding back. I grab the nearest dish towel and start wiping down the counter next to the sink unnecessarily.

“Well, I’m definitely not going tell you now,” Cass taunts.

Oh, she wants to play? Well, two can play this game. I continue to wordlessly shine the counter.

“Anyone who wants to be part of Emery’s life needs to try a little harder than that,” she continues to provoke me, but I’m not taking the bait. I throw the towel over my shoulder and start reorganizing bags of coffee beans, my back still to her.

That’s all it takes for her to groan theatrically. “Okay, fine,” she says in exasperation. I try not to grin at having gotten Cass to give in so easily. “She got divorced five years ago.”

I face her again. My turn to show my cards. “I know.”

Her eyebrows lift, and the hand on her belly goes rigid. “What do you mean you know?”

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