Page 67 of Storm in a Teacup
Once my coffee is finished, I can’t delay my return to my store any longer. He takes my mug to put in the sink and gives me a quick goodbye and see you soon. I bid Isla and Gemma farewell on my way out and go back into the store, a scone for Carolyn in my hand.
She accepts the pastry gleefully, then heads into the back, letting me resume control of the counter.
A few customers are milling around, but no one who needsany assistance, so I continue the cataloging I had started that morning, even though my eyes are still a bit blurry. I’m happy for the mindless work and am not thinking about the handsome man next door who gives me coffee and scones and friendship. I’m definitely not thinking about how nice it would be if he were also able to give me love. And if I were able to give it to him in return.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ben
I hang my pinny on a hook in the kitchen before slipping on my jacket. Today is one of those days where the end of my shift has come upon me rather quickly. Those are the best days, the ones where I get to spend the time chatting with customers, baking, and just reminding myself why we wanted to open this café in the first place.
Isla is behind the counter while Scott is cleaning up a few tables when I come up front.
To Isla, I say, “I’m gonna head out.”
“Alright. See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
I take one step, but she pauses me with an, “Oh.” I twist back to her. “I keep forgetting. I have a gig tomorrow, if you want to come.”
Isla used to be rather evasive about inviting people to watch her sing, but she’s gotten a lot better about it since she started seeing Rachel. I think because Rachel constantly reminds her how much we all enjoy hearing her sing. However, it has been a while since I’ve agreed to go.
“Sure,” I say.
Her eyebrows perk up. “Really?”
I shrug. “Yeah, of course.”
She purses her lips. “David is probably going to be there.”
I stiffen on instinct, my heartpingingwhen I hear his name, as it always does.
When I recover, I say, “Okay. That’s fine.”
“It’s at McCarthy’s.”
Ah, that’s why she’s being weird. McCarthy’s, aka the pub where I confessed.
I am sosickof this ache. Of being afraid to go places because of possible bad memories or feelings. I’m going. There’s no stopping me. I am fed up with this, and I am so unbelievably furious that I let this stop me for so long.
I say, “I like McCarthy’s.” Because I do. “Fine if I invite Linny?”
“Yeah,” she says, toying with the blue scrunchie around her wrist. “Are you only inviting her because of David?”
That question surprises me, though I can’t say why. “No. I just haven’t seen her in a few days.”
Five, to be exact. Not that I’m counting. Except I am counting because I am tired of consistently going multiple days without seeing someone I would like to see every day.
“Cool. I like Linny.” She drums her fingers on the counter. “When is the wedding again?”
“Two weeks.” I sigh. “I know you want to tell Rachel, and I promise you can as soon as this whole thing is over. I just think it will be easier for her to not tell David if Linny and I are broken up in a way.”
“Fine. I hate this, though.”
“Me too,” I agree.
I take my leave at that. Instead of heading home, I pivot and head into Better than New Antiques. I figure I’ll go ahead and ask Linny about coming to McCarthy’s tomorrow.
