Page 31 of This Baby Business
She grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the cash register, where she grabbed her purse. A few minutes later, Zoey left her part-time helper Reggie in charge of the shop and she drove us both over to the Drip. Jill was already there, pulling a shift. We grabbed a booth, and Jill brought over our usual array of biscotti, lemon cake, scones and people-sanctioned cookies.
I hadn’t hung out with my friends in too long. After I’d spilled my guts once more for Jill’s benefit, there had been nothing but silence from them, highlighted by the comforting whooshing sound of the espresso machine. That, plus the wafting scent of fresh-brewed coffee, brought back fond memories. I felt safe here. Cozy. Sure, it hadn’t been the best use of my almost-completed fashion design degree but I’d been happy here for a while.
New York City and the fashion industry hadn’t been what I pictured at all. The pace was too fast, the people too cold. I was shy and insecure, far too nice, and kept getting passed over. My designs weren’t horrible, but they also weren’t good enough. I’d done my usual struggling with anything regarding the written word. And then Alec had done his damage.
I’d returned to Fortune and my family feeling like a piece of chewed gum.
I found work as a barista, and I, Zoey and Jill worked together at the Drip for a while. Concocting café lattes, fraps and mochas, I frequently misspelled names on cups (Stephanie, Stefanie or Stephane?), and let’s not forget our four o’clock dance-offs. All three of us had wanted to go into business together at one time, but then Zoey had taken over the storefront for Pimp Your Pet when her aunt and uncle wanted to retire.
Then my mother had died and I was tasked with selling RockYourBaby.
“I will say this,” Jill said. “When you tell a lie, you don’t fool around.”
I couldn’t argue with that, but I’d call it inexperience more than anything else.
“So you’re engaged,” Jill said with a laugh. “Congrats!”
“Shh. I don’t want anyone to know.” I lowered my voice and glanced around to see if anyone had heard.
“How’s that going to work? A secret engagement?” Zoey said.
“I see issues straight ahead.” Jill leaned in. “So how did he take it? Does he seem like the type to go along with it?”
No, he seemed like the type who couldn’t be pushed around. Who wouldn’t do much of anything unless it was his idea first. I was in a lot of trouble with him, in other words.
“I…haven’t talked to him yet,” I confessed, taking a bite of biscotti. “Not since I—”
“You dropped a bomb like that on the guy then ran away?” Jill said.
I covered my face with my hands. I looked down at my cellphone as it buzzed. Another text from Levi.
I know where you live.
I groaned. “I’ll explain everything. He’s the type who will listen.”
This was my hope, anyway.
“He’s nice, I think. I saw him last week when I had a meeting with Emily about the pet wash on Saturday,” Zoey said.
“What so nice about him?” Jill said.
“He said hello and smiled.”
It didn’t take much for Zoey.
“I haven’t met the guy yet. Does he fall anywhere on the Chris Scale?” Jill asked.
The Chris Scale was a complicated rating system based on all of the significant ones: Hemsworth, Pine, Evans, Pratt. Jill had created the scale and made frequent updates to it.
“He is the high end,” Zoey said, holding her arms out about a foot apart.
“Really.” Jill cocked her head at me. “He rates on the scale and you didn’ttellme?”
“I would have, but I almost didn’t notice.” I shrugged and took another sip of my mocha.
Both Jill and Zoey fixed me with dumbfounded stares. They were not buying it. Anyone who came close to the scale usually meant a phone call with all the details. The last significant Chris Scale sighting had been a guy Jill had spotted in San Francisco. Three years ago. Chris sightings didn’t come around every day. Hence the stares.
“I’m sure once you explain everything, he’ll understand you weren’t thinking straight,” Zoey said with her positive attitude.
