Page 84 of Common Grounds

“Exactly.”

He watches me expectantly as I breathe in the scent of the coffee. It smells rich and almost ancient, like dark chocolate and earth. I sip a bit of it and, sure enough, the flavor is dark and earthy, but sweet and creamy from the sugar and milk.

“Mmm,” I hum. “It’s different. Sweet.”

“Like you, sreco.”

I snort. He might be the only man in the world who thinks I’m sweet, even if I secretly love that he does. “I like it. Still kind of weirds me out that I’m drinking coffee grounds, though.”

He takes a sip of his own then puts it down on the counter. “You’re not. They’re settled at the bottom. It’s not meant to be guzzled like American drip coffee, or even a latte. It’s meant to be sipped over hours with a pastry and a glass of water.”

I frown at him over my cup as I take another sip. “How is anyone supposed to get an appropriate amount of caffeine that way? And who has time in the morning to do that?”

“Dida would roll over in his grave to hear you say that.” His eyes once again burrow through me even as his humor still plays at his lips. “It’s not about the caffeine. It’s about the company.”

I swallow hard. We hold each other’s gaze for a moment longer before my phone dings from where it lays on the nightstand. I turn on instinct, and the spell is broken. I feel more than hear the woosh of air leave his lungs as I move out of his space and over to the bed. I sink down on the edge of it as I unlock the screen.

Ethan: You might want to check your email.

I type out a quick, Why? before I realize I could just check my email and find out. My heart jumps into my throat like it always does when I get cryptic messages like that. My thumb is shaking as I press it to the email icon and, there it is, an email from Randall right at the top.

FROM: Randall Skinner

TO: All Staff

SUBJECT: Monday pitch meeting

BODY: It has been a while since Emery Darlis has graced us with her presence at our weekly pitch meetings, but I have asked her to be present to update us on the end of her experimental series. I expect everyone to clear their calendars to attend.

I frown at my phone. I knew he wanted a meeting, but I don’t remember him specifying it would be with the entire staff. I close the email and look at the next one down. Sure enough, another email from Randall sits below.

FROM: Randall Skinner

TO: Emery Darlis

SUBJECT: Tomorrow

BODY: I think our staff would benefit from an update tomorrow, as your series is coming to a close. Be prepared to present to everyone.

Randall is not a verbose man, but even this is sparse for him. Present what? A slideshow of numbers and reach? An overview of Ethan’s pictures flashed on a screen like vacation photos? A dramatic reading of my articles?

I open the thread and type back to Ethan.

Emery: That was cryptic.

Ethan: He was in a mood on Friday. That’s all I know.

Emery: Why? Because his magazine is getting actual views? Seems like a strange thing to get upset about.

Across the room, Trevor’s phone dings, too. He picks it up as he slides into a chair at the table set up close to the bed.

Ethan: Who knows. Better find those stone ovaries though, just in case.

I chuckle and lock my phone, only for it to sound again. I unlock it to read the message.

Ethan: You think he figured out who NewsJunkie814 is?

Emery: So what if he did? It’s not against the rules to leave comments on my own articles.

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