Page 9 of There's Pumpkin About You
“Do you by any chance know what the two guys up at Goldleaf Farm drink?”
He scoffs. “Ah, you’re one of those ones.”
“Those ones?”
“The ones who want to try and score with the Finch brothers.”
“What?” I squeak.
“I don’t blame you.” He smiles. “I’ve tried a few times myself.”
“Oh, no no no, it’s not like that, I promise,” I nervously chuckle. “I’m possibly going into business with them and so I wanted to start off on the right foot.”
Green eyes widen and I swear that the entire café quietens. The barista watches me as I nervously switch my weight from one foot to the other. When I look over my shoulder, sure enough I have about half of the café’s eyes on me.
I turn back towards the barista. “I said something wrong, didn’t I?”
He shakes away his shock, but his eyebrows remain cocked. “No, not wrong, just weird. I’ve never heard of anyone going into business with the Finch brothers before.”
“Why not?”
“Well, people never usually have a problem with Sebastian, he’s like a big fluffy unicorn, but others have been known to… clash, let’s say, with Sam and August.”
My head tilts. “Okay, August I understand. I didn’t have the best time with him yesterday, but I haven’t met Sam yet.”
“Sam is… complicated. Known to be a bit on the angry side. He always did have a short temper, even in high school.” His eyes flick downward, accompanied by a frown that I don’t think he knows is there.
“You went to school with him?”
He shakes his head. “I was in the same grade as August, but my older sister was with Sam. She always came home with some complaint or another when it came to him and whilst I wasn’t in their grade, I was… you know”—he awkwardly clears his throat—“I was in the same school. You hear a lot when no one cares if you’re listening. And Sam never cared.”
“Huh,” I breathe, more to myself than to him.
“But, hey, if they want to go into business with you then you’ve gotta be stronger than all of us put together.”
“They can’t be all bad.”
“We’ll see.” He smiles. “You wanted both the boys’ orders?”
“Yes, please. Plus a cinnamon latte with oat milk, if you don’t mind.”
As I pull out my purse, he stops me. “I always allow the first one on the house for newbies that I like.”
Even though I know he’s not hitting on me, I still feel heat blossom in my cheeks.
“Thank you so much.” I stuff my purse back into my bag and move towards the collection counter. “My name’s Wren, by the way.”
“James, but you can call me Jamie. Everyone does.”
Jamie and I continue to chat as he quickly and expertly whips up my order. He asks me where I’m from and I supply the information, still aware that the other customers have only half gone back to their previous conversations. Beckford has its own rumor mill and its fair share of gossip, but they are at least more discreet about listening in. As soon as I mentioned possibly going into business with August and his brothers, I literally heard chairs move closer.
Jamie fills me in on the rough ins and outs of the town—who to avoid (Sandra, the library clerk) and who to keep my mouth shut around (Connor from the hardware store). I don’t know whether or not he’s genuinely joking when he throws his name into the mix on that last one. His laugh isn’t particularly convincing.
When he’s finished all three drinks, he grabs a pen and writes “August” on one, “Bash” on another, and “Newbie” on the last one. I thank him and promise to return tomorrow morning. I rush out the café and away from prying eyes. I feel like I can breathe deeper when I step back into the crisp, autumn air as the wind gently swipes my brown curls from my face.
I realize that Jamie never made a coffee for the final Finch brother. There sure seemed to be some underlying tension between them judging by the way Jamie spoke. Either way, I know it’s better to be prepared for a man with whom I’m never going to get along with no matter how hard I try.
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