Page 33 of The Pumpkin Spice Romance
He wheeled his shopping cart away, and Maddie turned back to me. “OK, we can go.”
“Do you know him?” I asked as we stepped into the crosswalk.
“Never seen him before,” said Maddie.
We reached her car and paused for her to unlock it.
“You will come back to the coffee shop, won’t you?” asked Maddie, turning back to me with a worried frown. “I don’t usually have those kinds of accidents. I probably won’t douse you in latte again.”
“But only probably?” I asked, trying not to laugh.
“The future is not set in stone,” she said ruefully. “I try not to promise things I can’t deliver on, and I’m afraid that if you spend any time with me, you’ll realize that I’m always a bit of a wild card.”
“But wild cards have the best chance of making a winning hand.” Her face lit up with a smile. “You know, I do know about franchising and expanding. Usually, for a much larger corporation, but as you say, it’s fairly transferable. If you would like me to look over your plans, I can.”
“Really?” Maddie looked like I’d promised her a pony and a diamond ring. “Oh, I would love that so much.”
“Do you have time tomorrow? I can come into the shop.”
“Yes! Any time! I usually come in around nine.”
I didn’t want to say that I knew that. I’d pushed my own arrival time later in the morning so I’d be sure to see her.
“Then I’ll see you in the morning,” I said, holding open her car door.
“See you tomorrow,” she said, beaming.
I watched her drive away and told myself that it was just business. But never in my entire career had I stood in the rain for a business associate.
4
MADDIE
The rain had lightened up by the time I reached my building. I lived in an ancient condo building that had been built by a Greek immigrant who believed in outdoor living but hadn’t quite grasped the Northwest’s rainy season. My third-floor unit had a magnificent balcony that I covered in flower pots and sunshades for six months of the year, and I stared at gloomily through the French doors the other six months.
But tonight, I danced through the raindrops and dashed into the lobby. I tapped my code into the interior lobby door with a happy rhythm and then optimistically ran up the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. Or at least, I hurried up to the second floor and then huffed and puffed my way to the third. I was always so ambitious at the start of the stairs and regretful by the time I reached my front door. I shut the door and leaned against it, breathing heavily but grinning as I kicked off my shoes. Pumpkin Spice Day had come through with a massive win.
I had changed to sweats and was carrying my dinner of leftover chicken salad and wine back to the living room when I heard a plaintive meow out on the balcony.
“It’s not locked!” I yelled around my wine glass at the bobcat-sized feline on my deck. Shayla had climbed up thewillow tree and jumped onto the deck as usual. I kept meaning to replace one of the panes on my French doors with a cat door, but I was a little worried about raccoons coming to visit.
There was the sharp hum and low yowl that accompanied Shayla’s shifts, and then the door opened.
“Brrr!” exclaimed Shayla, hurrying to grab the robe I kept for her on the hook by the door. “What a crappy night!”
“Yeah, it’s really wet out,” I agreed.
Shayla tied her robe closed and gave me a once-over. She had calico hair that matched her coat when she was a cat. She’d dyed it when she worked in an office, but now that she worked from home, she didn’t bother.
“You look suspiciously happy,” she said. “Didn’t you have that networking event tonight? I thought I was going to have to feed you sadness pizza. You’ve come home from the last two totally bummed.”
“I met someone!” I hesitated. “I mean, I met one of the mentors. Well, technically, I already met him earlier today.”
“I thought the only person you met today was Mr. Yummy when you doused him in Pumpkin Spice.”
I froze. I’d forgotten I’d texted Shayla about that already.
“Your mentor person is Mr. Yummy?” she guessed, grinning.
