Page 87 of Common Grounds

Mike considers the question. “Did you tell her how you felt?”

“I was honest,” I say. “Learning someone you’re falling for didn’t have your interests at heart doesn’t feel great.”

“But you said that third article—the one where she turned a corner—that one was real?”

“She said it was.”

“Do you believe her?”

I take a sip of the latte James made for me. “I want to. Hard to say for sure when she wouldn’t talk to me about it.” I sag in my seat. Even parroting his own words back to him doesn’t bring me the joy it usually does.

My phone buzzes on the counter next to me, and I grab it quickly, hoping it’s Emery. It’s not.

Mom: Hi, sweetie. Wanted to wish you luck with your event this weekend. Sorry I can’t make it up there to see you. Love you.

I run a hand through my already-messy hair. In the midst of everything, I had all but forgotten we’re having this grand re-opening this weekend. It’s not supposed to be a huge thing, but Cass and I did message back and forth a few times about specials to offer and a banner to hang. James suggested his band do an acoustic set and said he could handle setup. Thankfully, there’s not much left to do except pick up the new menus from the printers since we opted to keep the original menu board over the counter as a nod to the origins of this place.

“Say hi to Mama K for me,” Mike says, reading my phone screen across the counter.

I nod distractedly as I type out a quick message to her. I wonder briefly if she could help me decode Emery’s behavior but decide against looping her in. Not right now, at least. I’m still processing it myself, and I doubt she could do anything other than try to soothe my wounds over the phone.

A high-pitched giggle drifts over to us from the corner by the window. I glance that way and smile delicately at a little boy sitting with his mother. He has completely demolished a muffin, and there are crumbs everywhere. His mom is tickling him while also trying to get the crumbs into some kind of order.

“James, can you—” I start, but he’s already seeing what I’m seeing.

“On it, Boss.” He grabs a broom and heads over to their table.

I turn my attention back to Mike, who had been watching the exchange with a satisfied smile.

“Kid’s got some potential,” he says. “When he wants to, that is.”

“Did you all have a little heart-to-heart this morning or something?”

Mike tips his head back and forth. “I guess you could call it that.” When I frown at him, he leans back on the counter as if he’s conspiring with me. “I told him you needed someone around here who could pull his weight. Maybe even become a manager of this place someday. You know, so your best friend doesn’t have to open the shop to give you a break. Seems he’s interested in a promotion.” He steps back again and folds his arms over his puffed-out chest. “He even got a couple of the orders right today.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Getting a couple right would imply he got more than a couple wrong.”

“Baby steps, Trev.” He sweeps an arm, encompassing the entirety of the shop. “This Sunday crowd put a pep in his step, I think.” Then, he looks at me, more serious. “I hope these new customers will eventually give you back that optimism, too. You believed in a miracle, and it’s happening for you. However, you got here, that’s incredible.”

I drop my gaze to where my hands are clasped together on the counter. My knuckles are practically white from how hard I’ve been gripping them together without even realizing it. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Is this crowd worth what Emery did to help it get there?

I wish I could feel even an ounce of optimism right now. But I can’t escape the fact that the shop is full because of her, sure, but I also feel like shit because of her. Just when I thought I could have everything—the shop running at a profit and Emery fitting into my life—it turns out I can’t. I guess I can only have one at a time.

The universe sure is a stingy bitch.

Mike’s gaze snags on something behind me, outside the windows. “Your day might be about to turn around.”

I straighten quickly, but I’m afraid to turn around and look. “Emery?”

“Her sister.”

Sure enough, when I look, Cass is coming through the door. When she sees me, she stops in her tracks, and her eyes widen in surprise. “Trevor. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Then she shrugs and comes to the counter. She hoists herself into a chair next to me. “But, I’m actually glad you are. I have a new financial plan for you to get this place back on its feet and keep you from spending any more of your personal money. I’ve budgeted for the things we need for next weekend as well, and created one-, two-, and five-year growth plans to help you hire more staff, so you can do it all without burning out.” She slides a large, purple binder toward me and nods at Mike. “A muffin and a half-caff iced mocha, please.”

Mike doesn’t immediately move. He stares at her, then shifts his eyes to mine.

Cass tilts her head slightly and pinches her eyebrows together as she looks between the two of us. “What?”

I clear my throat. “Have you talked to your sister today?”

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