Page 9 of Bittersweet

Savannah was all in. She loved the idea of working together, but Harper was another story. The way she’d rushed out of his truck and the cold shoulder she’d given him at her shop spoke volumes. She was still angry, and she had every right to be.

Harper needed time to think over their possible partnership. At least that’s what Savannah had told him. Maybe she had called because she’d decided this would be a worthwhile venture after all.

The tone of her voicemail gave him the feeling it was about more than the food truck, though, which made him extra nervous. He needed this to go well—not just the partnership with their shop, but his relationship with Harper. Coming back to Grand Rapids wasn’t only about his business. He’d come back for her. Maybe she’d figured that out on her own.

Teetering between calling and texting, he typed and re-typed several iterations of a text to her, but deleted them all. It was impossible to know what to say without knowing why she had called. He finally settled on a simple “sorry it took so long to reply”. He also let her know he would be working downtown on Saturday morning and included the address where his truck would be parked in the hopes that she would come talk to him.

When Saturday morning arrived, he attempted to go about his day as usual, but he couldn’t stop glancing out the window, hoping to see Harper’s lovely face. The line was long, which was encouraging. The steady stream of customers meant he was doing something right. But he had a twinge of regret that Harper wasn’t there, running the truck with him. Together. Side by side.

As he passed a chai tea latte out the window to a customer, he thought of Harper. And then he caught a glimpse of a blonde waiting in the line, and his heart leapt in his chest. He bent down and looked out the window, unable to contain the smile that spread across his face.

“Harper!” He headed for the door and opened it slowly, not wanting to hit anyone with it again. “Get in here!”

The people in line stared back at her, and she hesitantly left her spot and climbed into the truck with him.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” He thought his heart might burst from how happy he was to have her back in the truck with him again.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I wanted you to see this place in action.” He went back to taking and fulfilling people’s orders, hoping she would see how efficient her kitchen design was.

She stood silently, watching him and his two baristas, Marco and Hazel, move like a well-oiled machine—taking orders and preparing lattes, cappuccinos, and whatever else the coffee lovers outside desired.

When there was a lull, Harper pointed at the small display of muffins and scones. “Where’d the food come from?”

He gave her a sheepish grin. “The grocery store.”

“You’re selling grocery store muffins?”

He could see she did not approve. “See why I need your help?” He clasped his hands together, as if in prayer, and pleaded with her. “My customers would be very grateful, and so would I.”

“That’s not why I called you,” she admitted.

Just as I suspected. He unclasped his hands and lowered them to his sides. “I thought maybe you changed your mind about working with me.”

There was another surge of people outside the window, and his eyes met hers in apology. He wanted nothing more than to talk to her at the moment, but his customers were waiting.

“It’s okay,” she told him, motioning toward the window.

Marco adjusted the hat over his thick dark hair. “Would you like anything?” he asked Harper.

Logan knew how flirtatious Marco could be with the ladies. “I’ve got her, Marco. Focus on them.” He pointed out the window.

Marco winked at Harper and went back to taking orders.

Logan rolled his eyes, and turned to work the espresso machine, while Hazel went about mixing the blended lattes with coffee, milk, ice, and flavored syrups. Logan brewed the espresso and steamed the milk for perfectly frothy cappuccinos and lattes. He could feel Harper watching him, and it gave him a little rush. His need for her to be proud of him for seeing this through was very strong.

They completed the orders as quickly as they could, and just as he was about to return his attention to Harper, his phone signaled a text. He gave her another apologetic look, annoyed by the constant interruptions, but she waved it off.

The text was from Tanya asking what time he’d be home. He glanced over at Harper before he texted his reply. Another text came, saying she needed him to get home as soon as he could.

“Maybe I should come back another time,” Harper said.

He noticed her eyes were fixed on his screen.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to look. It’s none of my business.”

He’d hoped to have a conversation with Harper, to explain everything, but it was not the time nor place.

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