Page 48 of Leo
Bethany had the good grace to look at least a tiny bit sheepish when I snagged her before she could head off to school.“I haven’t ordered anything yet,” she protested.“I just made some designs.We can link the store’s page to the print on demand site, and—”
“And we don’t have the money for me to stockpile shirts and mugs and god knows what else,” I sighed.“It’s a nice idea but—”
“But, hello, are you listening?”She tapped my skull, snorting when I swatted her away.“Print on demand.Oh my god, how oldareyou?Look, don’t touch anything, okay?I’ll show you after school.”
She shouldered her bag and gave me a stern glare, pointing to her eyes with two fingers, then mine.“I’ll know if you try to mess with the site, Am.I’ll be checking it at lunch!”
I held up my hands in mock surrender.“No touching.Got it.Go to school—I’m not writing you a tardy note because you’re paranoid I’m gonna delete the internet or something.”
She grunted, pointed between us again, and strode from the shop, narrowly missing Leo and Edward as they came through the front door.She ruffled Edward’s hair as she passed and he stuck his tongue out at her, making them both laugh.
“Before you even ask,” Leo said warningly, letting the door wheeze shut behind them, “no cupcakes.You’ve barely digested breakfast yet.”
Edward shrugged.“Okay.Hey!Ambrose!Can I help at the bakery today?I already know all the stuff Ms.Webb is teaching but I don’t know how to make cookies yet.I bet I can make some cool bug ones.Like, that look like bugs I mean.But did you know some cultures eat bugs?And bugs are a good source of protein?Like, some scientists think that we should replace meat with bugs.Or at least part of our meat intake.But I’m a vegetarian now so I don’t think I’d eat bugs.Dad, how much protein is in tofu?Can we make tofu burgers?Bethany said she tried to make some and they were okay.”
I shook my head and mouthedno they were notover Edward’s head.Leo hid his smirk behind his hand, feigning a cough.“We’ll see.Hey, you can’t have a cookie, but you can have a juice to go with your lunch.Go grab one from the refrigerator there and tell me how much it is.I’ll let you count out the money for Ambrose.”’
Edward nodded and was off like a shot, Leo’s concerned gaze following him.“Everything okay?”I asked, leaning across the counter for a quick peck.“You usually don’t come by so early.”
“I just wanted to see you,” he murmured, sounding shy.“Woke up thinking about you, and well, didn’t take much to convince Edward we should stop by this morning.”
I leaned across the counter and gave him a quick kiss.“I love that, but I also think you’re not telling me everything.”
“Am I that bad of a liar?”
“You’re not lying,” I pointed out.“Just leaving out inconvenient things.I live with a teenager, remember.That’s one of the main skillsets of the high school bunch.”I glanced at Edward to find he was still weighing the merits of apple juice versus fruit punch, so I stole the chance to kiss Ambrose again.“Even though I can’t do anything to help, you know I’ve got your back, okay?”
He smiled tiredly.“Soft place to land, huh?”
“Sometimes,” I said with a sly smile.“Other times, I’m pretty hard.”
“Oh my god,” he muttered, chuckling.“It’s too early to flirt.”
“Shut your mouth!What a terrible thing to say!”
Edward appeared between us, setting orange juice on the counter.“I decided this one looked lonely, so I picked it.”
I rang him up, waiting while he counted out the correct change from the small pile of bills and coins Leo had handed him.“Hey, I bet if you talk to Bethany later, she’ll show you this really cool lenticular postcard she got in San Francisco last summer.It has an old Victorian drawing of a beetle on it.”
Edward’s eyes lit up.“Awesome!”
“Come on, kiddo.Let’s get going.I want to try to talk to the principal before class starts.”
Edward sagged.“I guess you don’t need help today?”he asked me.
“Sorry, buddy.Today’s strictly thirteen and up day here at the kitchen.”
“Ugh.No pet beetle, no iguana, no job… Why is thirteen so magical?”
“Ask me when you’re fifteen,” Leo said.He pushed the door open, stepping back to admit a tall, striking man with a fauxhawk and a very expensive looking camera.“Have a good day?”Leo said, a hint of a question in his tone.
“We’ll find out.”
The man was Reynolds Markham, and he was a freelance photographer working with Reba Howe, a content creator for Southern California Weekly, a glossy magazine that featured off beat and seriously cool things to see, do, and know about the region.It was one of those impossible to get into print mags that ended up everywhere from drugstore racks to high-end salons and shops you needed a credit check and three references just to enter.
And apparently, they—Reba Howe, specifically, wanted to write a story about Nice Buns.
“Sorry for not reaching out first,” she announced as she sailed into the shop in a cloud of Nag Champa, dark roast coffee, and a hint of pot smoke.“No offense but your web presence was pretty crap till today, and no one answered when I did try to call last week after I saw the kraut cake video.”
