Page 20 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
CHAPTER 7
HARLOW
Pablo, Poppy, and I work in unison in the busy coffee shop. It’s almost a work of art how easily we mesh and manage to keep things moving at a fast pace. It’s no wonder, Tessa the owner and Jasper’s mom, always tries to have the three of us scheduled together to handle the busiest times of day.
“Is Hot Nerd stopping by?” Poppy stirs an iced coffee and caps it with a lid. “He’s normally been here by now. Corey!” She calls out the customer’s name for the iced coffee.
I shake my head, adding milk to the macchiato I’m making. “He’s in LA today so he won’t be back until this evening. Tiffany!” I yell out for the customer and pass the yellow-blond woman with bubble gum pink lips her coffee while she practically yells into her cellphone.
The door chimes with more customers entering, but the hush that falls over the place is unexpected. This place is never quiet. Poking my head around the espresso machine, I quickly lay my eyes on the culprit. Spencer stands in the back of the line, head downcast, his copper waves poking out from beneath a faded blue LA baseball cap. He’s dressed like he was when he picked up Roe this morning, baggy athletic shorts and an old t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.
Despite his inconspicuous look, he’s anything but.
Everyone in the coffee shop is murmuring about Spencer Shaw.TheSpencer Shaw one lady whispers in awe, amongst their midst.
Spencer catches my gaze and steps out of line, walking right for me.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. What does he want?
I wipe my palms on my blue apron.
“Hey.” His voice is a tad breathy for some reason. “I was wondering if we could talk?”
“Why? Is something wrong?”
He shrugs, giving me that mega-watt smile that has women all over the world swooning, but not me. Not anymore. “Because we haven’t in a while.”
“I’m kind of busy.” I point out. “I’m at work.” I wave my hand around me to encompass the chaotic shop. “I can’t exactly leave them one woman down.”
Poppy scurries over to me, placing her chin on my shoulder and hugging me from behind. “Don’t worry, girl. Pablo and I will hold down the fort while you’re gone. It’s time for your break anyway. Here, eat a sandwich.” She grabs one of the ready-made turkey sandwiches from the refrigerator to my left and shoves it in my hands. “Go, go.” She waves me on with a delighted smile, enjoying my misery way too much.
Knowing I have no choice now, I turn back to Spencer, forcing a smile. “Well, I guess I have time to talk.”
“Somewhere more private?” There’s a pleading note to his voice and looking around it’s easy to see why.
Everyone, and I mean everyone, is staring at him. I’m sure a few people might not know who he is, but they’re drawn in by other’s curiosity. I spot a couple of people with their phones up, obviously recording or snapping photos so they can post on their social media later with proof that they were in the same coffeehouse as Spencer Shaw. I’m surprised the paparazzi haven’t shown up yet, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.
This right here was one of my biggest deterrents when it came to Spencer’s sudden desire to become Hollywood royalty. I don’t like being the subject to this kind of scrutiny.
“There’s a room in the back,” I finally mutter. “This way.” I point him toward the hinged, hip height door built into the counters so he can come back.
He falls into step behind me as Poppy sing-songs, “Have fun.”
I’m going to throat punch her later.
In the breakroom, I swipe a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and take a seat at the table against the wall. Spencer pulls out the seat across and sits down.
“What brings you to these parts?” I sweep my fingers lazily, looking down at the saran-wrapped sandwich. I should be hungry, starving, but my appetite is gone.
I can’t believe I once spent so much time in this coffee shop with him as teenagers in love, blissfully ignorant of the real world, and everything that comes with it. The face that stares back at me is more sculpted and angular than it used to be. His eyes have a few lines forming around the corners and his cheeks have a light dusting of reddish-brown hued hair.
When we were young, we could talk about anything for hours on end, just happy to be together. I wanted to spend every moment with him and couldn’t get enough.
Now, my stomach always feels queasy when we need to have a conversation.
Spencer is a good guy, I would never lie and say he’s not, but we’re not together anymore and we do share a daughter but we’re completely out of balance when it comes to money. It might seem stupid, but any time he wants to ‘talk’ my brain immediately goes to what if he wants full custody? I can’timagine Spencer ever taking Roe away from me, but thatwhat ifhangs over my head like a shiny guillotine. I would never be able to afford an attorney that could compete with his.
“I was in town,” he jokes with a smile, interrupting my thoughts.
