Page 19 of The Clause in Christmas
Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door closed until she heard the latch click, admonishing herself to get a grip. So what if Luke smelled better than a gingerbread latte? Cassie wasn’t the type to swoon. At least, not anymore.
“I see you haven’t started yet.” Luke’s attention flickered from the bare fir tree centered in front of the enormous bay window to the boxes of ornaments stacked on the floor.
“I was sidetracked,” Cassie admitted.
“I took her to Frank Barrie’s place,” Eliza shouted from the kitchen.
Cassie and Luke joined her around the island, where she unloaded her box of baking supplies. Ben sat at the antique butterfly table, flipping through the Christmas Calendar, oblivious to their conversation.
“Why would you take her there?” A protective edge crept into Luke’s tone, causing Cassie’s heartbeat to quicken involuntarily.
Eliza rolled her eyes. “Calm down. We’re perfectly fine.” She set a ball of chilled cookie dough wrapped in cellophane on the counter. “Cassie wanted to see if she could buy some of Frank’s coffee beans.”
“You should have told me.” Luke still sounded a little on edge. “I would have gone with you.”
“For my sake? Or Cassie’s?” Eliza’s dark eyes glinted mischievously, and Luke looked decidedly uncomfortable.
Coming to his rescue, Cassie asked, “How come you and Maggie haven’t tried to buy some for the bakery?”
Eliza shrugged, sprinkling a handful of flour on the butcher block. “We’re not really set up to serve coffee. I mean, we have the air pot, but we barely pay any attention to it.” She plopped the cookie dough onto the dusted surface, pausing in thought. “Although, if we could figure out how to use that behemoth in the basement, it may be worthwhile to invest in some quality coffee.”
“What’s in the basement?” Cassie settled herself on the wooden stool, propping her arms on the edge of the counter, not caring that her red sweater now had white elbow patches, thanks to Eliza’s generous dose of flour.
Luke perched on the stool next to her, grazing her thigh with his.
At his touch, Cassie’s senses heightened to everything around her, including the faintly sweet aroma of the sugar cookie dough Eliza flattened with her rolling pin.
“When Mom bought the building over thirty years ago, the previous owner left a bunch of stuff in the basement,” Luke explained, seemingly unaware of the effect he had on her. “One of the items was an old espresso machine.”
Cassie straightened, immediately intrigued. “How old?”
“Not sure,” Luke admitted. “Antique, for sure. It’s huge. Made out of hammered copper.”
“Can I see it sometime?” Cassie tried to curb the enthusiasm from her voice but clearly failed.
Luke chuckled. “You sure love your coffee, don’t you?”
“Do you think you’d know how to use it?” Eliza asked.
“Possibly. I used to be a barista, so I know my way around an espresso machine.”
“What do you do for work now?” Luke asked.
Cassie swallowed, tracing a line through the flour with her fingertip. “I’m in between jobs at the moment.” She chose not to mention she’d been fired from her previous job because the manager of the coffee shop didn’t like her “know-it-all” attitude. Was itherfault he didn’t know the difference between Guatemala Antigua and Fraijanes?
“I’m sorry.” Eliza set down the rolling pin to preheat the oven. “Has it been long?”
Long enough.Cassie shifted on the barstool, careful not to bump knees with Luke. “I’m confident I’ll get a call any day now. I have a few résumés circulating.”
Circulating into the trash, most likely.The truth was, Cassie knew too much to be a barista since the managers felt threatened by her skill and knowledge, but she didn’t have the college degree to warrant a management position. She’d have to find something soon, though. Even if she sold her grandmother’s cottage above market value, she couldn’t live off the money forever.
Cassie could feel Luke’s gaze on her, but she fixed her attention on the snowman she’d doodled in the flour. She couldn’t bear to see even a hint of pity in his eyes.
“I wish we had a coffee shop in Poppy Creek,” Eliza said regretfully. “But I bet we could find you a job doing something else. What do you love besides coffee?”
Cassie blinked, caught off guard by Eliza’s question. What else did she love? Her mother, though Cassie sometimes wished she didn’t. Of course, she knew that wasn’t what Eliza meant.
Pressing her lips together, Cassie forced a smile. “Thanks. That’s sweet of you. But I won’t be staying in town. I’ll be heading back to San Francisco right after Christmas.”
