Page 22 of By Any Beans Necessary

And with that, Michelle stormed out of the room, leaving a stunned Jeff in her wake. Her heart thumping like a fist against her chest as she tried to settle behind her desk, but try as she might, she couldn't focus on her work. She sent a quick text to Emily that she was leaving for the rest of the day and headed out. She was not sure where she was going, except anywhere that Jeff wasn't.

Her blonde hair, usually so carefully arranged, whipped about her face in the brisk wind, a tangible manifestation of the turmoil within.

"Maybe Harold's right," she murmured to no one, the sound swallowed by the rain that was now falling all around her. "Maybe I do deserve better."

But as she turned a corner, her steps slow and uncertain, she couldn't help but wonder if 'better' was just another word for 'alone.'

An hour later, Michelle slumped into the worn leather couch at the Coffee Loft, its familiar creaks a small comfort. The scent of roasted beans and cinnamon wafted around her like a warm hug that couldn't chase away the cold knot in her stomach.

"Girl, you look like you've been through a tornado," Candace said, plopping down beside her with two lattes balanced in hand.

"More like a hurricane," Michelle corrected, staring into the caramel swirls of her latte as if it held answers.

Candace's black hair framed her face in gentle waves, hazel eyes sharp with concern. "Spill it."

"Jeff." That name was enough.

"Ah, the K9 Casanova," Avery chimed in, tripping over the edge of a rug as she joined them, sending croissants flying. Her auburn-highlighted hair bounced as she scrambled to save the pastries.

"Really, Avery?" Jenesa arched an eyebrow, elegantly crossing her legs beneath her tailored suit. She picked a stray croissant off the floor and dusted it off with a pearl-adorned hand.

"Five-second rule," Avery grinned sheepishly, placing it back on the tray.

"Guys, I'm serious," Michelle sighed, picking at the edge of a blueberry muffin without appetite. "He might have been...using me."

"Like a social ladder?" Candace quirked a brow.

"No, like a reputation polisher." Michelle's words were flat, weighted with hurt.

"Ugh, men," Avery groaned, her green eyes rolling dramatically. "Except for Hunter, of course. And Danny."

"And Luke," Candace added.

"Exceptions duly noted," Jenesa said dryly.

"My friend, Harold, told me about Jeff bragging at the bar. About how being with me is good for his image," Michelle confessed, a single tear betraying her as it slid down her cheek.

"Harold Bernstein?" Jenesa snorted. "I heard the rumors about him. Since when do you trust the guy who tried to sell kids oregano as 'high-grade herbal refreshment' when he was in high school?"

"True. I mean, I wonder if what he says about what happened with his marriage is even factual. No one's even talked to his wife about it," Avery pointed out, then winced as she knocked over a sugar dispenser with an elbow. "Oops."

"Clumsy and insightful," Jenesa smiled thinly, passing napkins to contain the spill.

"Look, Michelle," Candace took her hand, "Jeff would be an idiot to play you. You're amazing."

"Totally," Avery agreed, righting the sugar dispenser. "And if he is, we'll kick his?—"

"Let's not resort to violence," Jenesa cut in, but there was steel in her voice. "Yet."

"I just don't know what to believe," Michelle murmured, pulling her knees to her chest.

"Believe in yourself first," Jenesa advised. "Men come and go. But we? We stay."

"Like glitter at a craft fair," Candace quipped, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Or like a stubborn stain," Avery added with a wink.

"Thanks, guys," Michelle half-smiled, wiping her cheek. "But right now, I just feel...lost."

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