Page 45 of Moonshine and Magnolias
The rich smell of coffee and the tinkling of a chime greeted Wendy as soon asshe swung open the glass door. Only a few of the wooden tables were filled, and most of the booths lining the wide windows were empty. The smooth, pale green walls were just as welcoming now as they were when the shop opened fifteen years ago.
“Wendy!” Mrs. Kempert stood from organizing the bookshelf full of games and puzzles. She enveloped Wendy in a hug that surrounded her with a poof of flour and the scent of fresh-baked goods as Jordan made her way to a long booth in the back.
The owner’s eyes took on a measure of sympathy and she kept her hands on Wendy’s shoulders. “How are you doing, hon?”
She offered the woman a smile. “It’s been hard, but I’m doing well. Thank you for asking.”
“I’m happy to see you in here. It’s almost like old times, with you and Brandi and the softball team coming in here after practice.” She gave Wendy a pat on the shoulder, then bustled behind the counter. “Your usual toasted coconut almond chocolate latte?”
“I can’t believe you remembered.” Her stomach protested the mere thought of the highly-sugared drink. “Not today, though. Just two black coffees, please. Large. And some of your pound cake.” To match the ache in her head.
The woman prepared the order with her usual efficiency, and the coffees soon appeared along with two thick pieces of dessert. “On the house. You take care, now.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kempert.” Wendy balanced the cake and the drinks and headed to the booth.
Jordan had taken command, setting up her computer and notebooks on the extended table. She pounced as soon as Wendy was seated. “You didn’t see your guest?” She circled the air near her mouth with the pencil she was holding. “Sebastien went all Ginger Ninja on your Dr. Upshaw.”
“What? Why the hell would he do something like that?” And he wasn’t her Dr. Upshaw. She didn’t want to talk about him. Not until she had time to processthe raw tension from that morning, the desire and longing that zipped through her when they were together. She kept her voice neutral and picked at a corner of her cake. “What did Sebastien say?”
“I didn’t ask. I was more interested in hearing from you.” Jordan used the pencil to push her glasses back in place.
Wendy shrugged and turned on her computer, hoping Jordan would move on from the topic. But her friend said nothing, only crossed her arms and exhibited the same patience she had used while waiting to tag out a player trying to steal second base.
“Fine,” Wendy huffed. “Truth is, I had no idea they even crossed paths this morning.”
Jordan lifted one elegantly-shaped eyebrow. “I never said it was this morning.”
“Shut up. Nothing happened. I was drunk and he was a gentleman.” Mostly.
Jordan took a sip of her coffee. “Did you want something to happen?”
With her feelings when she was with Rob, and the curveball Hal had pitched her way, if she didn’t get herself straightened up, she might explode. She folded her arms on the table and rested her forehead on them, and gave in to the feeling. “I’m such a mess.”
“Do you like him?”
Wendy went with instinct and nodded into her arms.
“So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. He’s a guest and will be leaving when his work is done. Plus it’s not like I can just jump into being a part of someone else’s life. I don’t have that kind of ease.” Not like her cousin.
Jordan broke off a piece of her cake. “Sebastien likes Dr. Upshaw. I think. Meanwhile, I haven’t met the guy yet.”
“Then why did he hit him?”
“Yeah, I’m still not sure on that part. But from what I could gather, the punch happened before they became BFFs.”
Wendy snorted and sat back in the booth, less jumbled after her small confession but still with no clue on what to do.
The bell rang above the door and an older man entered Cuppa Joe’s. His eyebrows knit when he saw Wendy and Jordan, but he shuffled over. “Hey, there, Ms. Wendy.”
He looked familiar, but Wendy couldn’t place him. “I’m sorry, Mr…?”
“Mitchell. Gerald Mitchell.” He ran his hand through his wiry brown hair. “I knew your Grandma Maybelle. She was such a blessing. Did great things in the community.”
Pride filled part of the empty hole that had appeared in her chest at any mention of her grandmother. “Thank you, Mr. Mitchell. That’s always nice to hear. This is my friend, Jordan Shoenover.”
The man gave Jordan a nod. “Is Ms. Brandi with you?”
