Page 137 of Not That Ridiculous

“I’m okay. Good chat. Stay safe.” I hung up, set my phone to Do Not Disturb, and stalked off to empty the dishwasher.

25

The problem was, while Amalie might have pranced off to become a Citizen of the World, whatever the fuck that meant, it didn’t erase the fact that she was born and raised in Chipping Fairford, and from the age of sixteen to twenty-six had worked in the shop.

In other words, she knew the regulars, their orders, and their schedules as well as I did, and she was friendly enough with half of them to have their phone numbers in her contacts.

The other half probably followed her on Instagram.

Oh, and she was as much of a dick as I was.

It ran in the family.

So when I came out with a tray filled with clean cups, it was to find Brian Young lying in wait at the counter, on his phone.

“Cappuccino?” I asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Yep, hang on,” he said into his phone, then stuck it under my nose with a winning smile.

“That’s not how you use Apple Pay, Brian,” I said.

He jiggled it. “It’s for you.”

I took it off him and held it up to my ear.

“Charlie?” Amalie said. “Listen?—”

I hung up and passed the phone back to Brian. “You ordering or leaving?” I asked.

He took the hint. “Um. Cappuccino, please.”

“Jasper?” I said, scanning the coffee shop. “Make Brian a cappuccino, would you?”

“On it!”

Over in the corner, Saffron Clarke put down her Kindle and glanced at her phone which was lying on the table alongside her steaming cup of camomile tea. She looked startled but answered. Her gaze immediately crossed to mine.

I shook my head at her.Don’t do it, Saffron.

She did it.

She stood up and came over. “Charlie, this is weird. I haven’t spoken to her for ages, but your sister Amalie called.”

“Yep,” I said, and gestured to her impatiently. She handed the phone over, I hit the end call button, and handed it back. I lifted my brows. “Get you a refill?”

“No thanks. Are you two fighting?”

I stared at her flatly. “This is how we express our sibling affection.”

“Okaaaay.” She wandered back to her seat, picked up her Kindle, and got back to minding her own business.

I glared around the coffee shop, looking for Amalie’s next victim. Martin Newson got halfway out of his seat before I whipped my head around and pinned him with a glare. He froze.

I tightened my jaw and shook my head at him.

He lowered back to his seat where he fidgeted for a bit, phone to his ear. He turned slowly red then pushed up and hurried over.

“Charlie,” he said, “I’msosorry but she told me if I didn’t get you on the phone, she’d?—”

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