Page 27 of Off the Wall

A flicker of curiosity flares behind my ribs as Sandra glances toward the far side of the shop. “Nori’s here now,” she whispers. “Maybe we shouldn’t be talking about her.” Her face crinkles with sympathy.

I follow Sandra’s gaze to a couch tucked into the far corner. Nori’s over there wearing a Serendipi-Tea apron, so that’s one mystery solved. She must work here. She’s with herfriends from the building—the one with the black hair and the redhead. When Nori glances over and spots me, her eyes go wide. So I look away. Fast.

But I don’t want to look away.

Oh, man. I sure hope I’m not turning into one of those guys who just loves the chase. Either way, I won’t be chasing Nori Sinclair. Regardless of her unusual, unlucky backstory.

“Well, it was nice to meet you ladies …” I splay my hands. “But there are a bunch of hungry staff at the hospital waiting for me to feed them trans fats and carbs.”

The women burst into laughter again, even though I still haven’t said anything all that funny.

Maybe they feel bad for talking about Nori. Personally, I feel bad for wanting to know more about her.

So I refuse to look in her direction again. I’m worried curiosity will be written all over my face. Instead, I say goodbye to the yoga posse and excuse myself to head to the barista counter. Sandra says she’ll be right there to help me order. In the meantime, I study the enormous chalkboard menu.

See?

Still not looking at Nori.

The drinks and food items are all listed in a funky, bohemian font, with flowers and scrollwork weaving between the descriptions and the prices. There’s a pickup station on one end of the bar, and the cashier takes orders at the other. In between are cases of food: baked goods, gourmet sandwiches, baskets of fruit, juices, and water bottles.

“Aren’t those cookies gorgeous?” Sandra strolls up beside me. “They’re made by someone else who lives in your building. Her name’s Willa. Willa Smith, from Serendipitous Sweets. She’s Archer Gaines’s girlfriend. He owns the building.”

“I’ve met Archer,” I say. “He’s a good guy. But I don’t know Willa yet.”

“Well, her cookies are to die for. Also, the breakfast sandwiches here are the stuff of legends. But my personal faves are the cream cheese croissants and the chocolate chip scones. Everyone raves about the cinnamon scones, but trust me. The chocolate chip rules.”

“Maybe I should just have them fill up a bunch of boxes with a little of everything. Lots of mouths to feed at the hospital, and I aim to please.”

Sandra’s mouth slips sideways. “Well, don’t worry too much about your reputation there. The scuttlebutt at Springs Memorial is that no one has a better work ethic than you do.”

“Scuttlebutt?”

“Somuch scuttlebutt,” she emphasizes.

I cough out a laugh.

“What?” She shrugs. “Scuttlebutt is a word.”

“Oh, I know it is.” I’m pretty sure my grandpa used to say it, but I’m not going to tell Sandra that. “I’ve just never imagined myself being the source of …”

“So much butt?” Her lip twitches.

“Anybutt.”

A jingle at the entrance draws Sandra’s attention to the front of the shop, and she squeals. “Oooh! Ian is here!"

“Nice.” I have no idea who Ian is.

“I’m just going to run over and say hi,” Sandra chirps, touching my elbow again. “Will you be okay without me?”

I bob my head. “You told me about this place, met me here, and gave me your personal recommendations. I think I’m all set.”

All I want to do is buy a bunch of baked goods and get out of this gossip mill as soon as possible. But even as I think that, a slideshow of Nori assembles in my brain.

Two pink cheeks. One small smile. A set of squared shoulders.

And before I can stop the impulse, my gaze drifts back to the couch in the corner.

---