Page 56 of Where You Left Me

Rosie has set up a booth at Bikes and Beers for the last two years, but each time she likes to give me shit until I’m practically begging. And it’s not typical for me to beg. For anything.

But the event needs Brew Box there. So I suck it up and play her childish game. Taking a deep breath, I yank open the door of Brew Box and step inside. The cool draft from the whirling air conditioner hits my body and calms my apprehensions. This is fucking ridiculous. I’m not nervous. Ishouldn’tbe nervous.

“Hey, Jonesy,” Rosie calls from her usual table in the corner of the coffee shop.

I blow out a breath and shuffle toward her.

“What brings you in?” she asks, but the sinister smile stretching on her lips tells me she already knows exactly what I’m doing here.

I pull out a chair and drop onto it. “Why don’t you cut the shit and save both of us the trouble and just agree right from the start.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” she teases.

I groan and stretch my elbows across the table. “I don’t know why we gotta go through this every year. Bikes and Beers is the biggest event in Maple Ridge, why should I have to talk you into having a booth there? It would be good for your business. It just makes sense.”

“I don’t know, Jones,” she says, leaning back in her chair and narrowing her eyes at me. “I feel like you’re losing your touch. I think Mr. C. would be better at this?”

Grumbling, I glare right back at her. “Then tell me why, I’ve already convinced the last six vendors I’ve met with? You’re the last one.”

“Because you know I’ve got to see you actually work for it. I want to see the passion.”

Rosie is wasting time I could be spending with Mia. It’s the only day we have off together for the next week. Rosie’s being a childish dick.

I bite the inside of my cheek, so I don’t say what I’m thinking. Instead, I don’t talk to her like she’s a friend—if I can even call her that right now—but rather, I talk to her like I did the last six vendors I met with.

“Having a booth at Bikes and Beers is good business sense. You’ll not only make your presence known and bring in extra profit, but you’ll also be helping charity. The money raised from the entrance fees goes to protecting our local bike riders, making it safer for them not only on the trails but on the streets of Maple Ridge. It also goes toward cleaning up the trails. What better way to bring in even more business, than to say you support local charities?”

Rosie’s eyes go round, and she begins slow clapping. “There it is, the passion.”

My face heats with annoyance and I grit my teeth so hard my jaw pops. “Rosie,” I growl.

“Don’t get your panties in a wad, put Brew Box down as a ‘yes’,” she finally says as she stands. She pats me on the back. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Jonesy.”

I exhale a grumbled puff of air. I swear, if she wasn’t Cammie’s best friend, I would’ve stopped associating with Rosie years ago. Now doing so would be impossible. She’s somehow weaseled her way onto my list of favorite people. And these days, it’s a small list. We give each other shit, that’s just what we do.

I shake my head; a grin pulling at my lips, and I tug my phone from my pocket. There’s nothing from Mia. My gut twists in instant worry. Fear that maybe she got roped into working today. Fear that she doesn’t want to see me. Fear that she’s left Maple Ridge again without saying goodbye.

My nerve endings tingle as uneasiness fills my limbs. I send her a text.

Me

Done at Brew Box. Rosie is in.

Mia

As if there was a question.

My exhale is shaky as relief sinks in. Mia is okay. And she’s still here.

Me

How’d it go with your dad’s appointment?

Mia

Good. Dr. says the progress he’s been making is good.

Me

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