Page 77 of A Way Out
“You mean overpriced coffee shops?”
“Yeah. Sorry. It’s just, um, my band isn’t quite as popular as Holly’s. Yet. Hopefully, this time next year I can come back and order something with confidence.” And the money to spare.
Regina chuckled. “I got you. I just need to know your general tastes and I’ll whip something up. Flavored creamer? Sugar? Strong coffee or mild?”
“Strong as you can make it and enough sweetener to disguise the bitterness. I have a long drive ahead of me.”
Regina stabbed her thumb at her chest. “My coffee isn’t bitter. But I can handle this order. Coming right up.”
She turned away to prepare his drink, and Oz tugged his wallet out of his pocket to check to see if he had enough cash for food, too. Probably he should wait and find a diner somewhere, where he could purchase more food for his limited dollars.
When Regina returned, she placed his drink—the largest size she offered—and a bag that smelled both savory and sweet on the counter, pushing both items toward him.
“On me,” she said before he could tell her he didn’t want the food. “Tell Holly I said hi, okay?”
“Wow. Uh, thanks. I really appreciate it.”
Regina’s smile was bright as the sun. “It’s my pleasure.”
Oz hightailed it out of there, devouring the bagel sandwich before he even touched the coffee. She’d also included a cranberry and orange scone. God bless the woman.
He sat in his car, sipping coffee and texting Holly.
* * *
You have cool friends. Just met Regina. She said hi. She also makes the best coffee I’ve ever had.
* * *
And then he mentally plotted out the long-ass drive he was about to make.
And tried really fucking hard not to think about Maria.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
All Maria wanted to do was chase after Oz.
What she needed to do was talk with her ex-husband.
That task was a hundred times harder courtesy of the damn near overwhelming urge to just walk out the door.
But she couldn’t, not until they sorted out this custody battle threat.
She was upstairs with Riley, hovering in her room while Riley reacquainted herself with her toys. She wasn’t needed here, but she was avoiding going downstairs and facing Vic.
“At least someone is glad to be here.”
Maria whirled around to face Vic. He stood in the hallway, his hands thrust into his pockets, his gaze on the carpet. She’d never seen a person look so uncomfortable in her life.
“She does practically have a toy store in there,” Maria pointed out.
“I bet she didn’t miss them while you were traveling.”
No, she hadn’t. She’d been having too much fun. Too much interaction with Oz and his kids and the bands to even care about her toys.
“Why don’t we go down to the kitchen? The coffee is still warm.”
She didn’t want coffee. She wanted to leave.
