Page 14 of When London Snow Falls

“Huh. Well, then. What’d you lose this week?” I make a show of straightening flyers that don’t need straightening, so I shuffle paper around rather uselessly. I’m focused on making the postcards line up perfectly straight to the edge of the ledge where they sit, deliberately not looking at him. As if by looking over and acknowledging his existence, he’ll disappear in a puff of fanciful imagination, leaving me little to wank over later.

“I tried something different this time. Think I found something instead,” he says lightly.

“Yeah? What’s that?” I lift my head to peer curiously at him.

“You’ll need to come with me and see.”

I blink. He’s watching me, posture relaxed with his hands in his pockets. He looks dead serious. And, I might add, hot. He gives an enigmatic grin.

“What, now?” I ask. What’s he on about? “I’m working.”

“You must get breaks.” He reaches out to adjust a flyer, too. Helpful and civic-minded, so that’s a win for café banter.

“Usually,” I concede, glancing around the café. Curiosity is getting the better of me.

Why is he even here talking to me? What on earth does he want me—me of all the people in London—to come and see? He could have his pick out of a million baristas.

Most of the tables are full—students at laptops, shoppers relaxing into their chairs, and other people catching up over a coffee and cake. “Depends on the state of the queue, actually. And if there’s anyone around to cover.”

He peers at me before looking over at the counter while I glance over at Jasmine where she’s restocking pastries in the display.

No queue. Only one person waits to pick up drinks.

“I don’t see a queue. Do you see a queue?” he asks.

“Well, no. Not exactly. But there could be a rush at any minute.”

Which really is a pathetic cover because it’s a lull right now.

Fine, then. I’ll indulge this for just a moment. No harm done, right? I’ll spare a minute to see what he’s on about. And then I’ll get back to work and the million other things I have to do.

“Right. Wait here a minute.” Brusquely, I remove my apron.

He grins. Cat, canary, all of that. If I look carefully, there’ll be feathers floating in the air.

I squish my apron into as small of a package as I can while I stride over toward Jasmine. Whatever bait this is, I’m apparently all in. My legs had started walking before my brain could catch up.

“Catch.” I toss my balled-up apron in her vicinity.

She laughs at me. And catches easily. “Go, already. I’ll cover for you if anyone asks.”

“I’ll return the favor sometime.”

“He’s cute,” she whispers. “Good luck.”

I roll my eyes. The last thing I need is an audience. The smile is tough to suppress, though.

It’s a perfect morning for no managers.

I return to where he’s waiting patiently, still by the community noticeboard, making an impressive show of thoroughly taking in the posters and pamphlets. He should be well up on North London events by now.

“Well, here I am. Now what?” I put my hands in my pockets.

“Good, good. Thought you might have lost your nerve. You’re dragging your feet a wee bit, I think.”

“What do you take me for?” I scoff. “I can’t just walk out on my job. The people need me.”

“I’m so glad you’re a responsible employee.”

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