Page 2 of Forty and Fighting Dirty
Landing the job for Baldwin Consulting was everything I’d dreamed about, and more. It was my ticket out of my old town and away from my ex-husband. It was a lifeline for my boys—and myself. It was a challenge, and one I couldn’t wait to embrace.
As a ghost of a smile tugged at my lips, I pushed open the coffee shop door and unzipped the top of my jacket. Sliding in line behind an older woman, I glanced at the menu above the registers and inhaled a deep breath of coffee-scented air. A grinder whirred and a barista banged a jug of steamed milk on the counter. My spine straightened slightly as my shoulders relaxed.
Yes, coffee would help. And maybe one of those blueberry muffins with the crystalline sugar sprinkled on top. I was jittery this morning; maybe my blood sugar was low. Either way, it couldn’t hurt to taste-test, could it? And there was only one blueberry muffin left in the display case. If no one bought it by the time it was my turn to order, it was a sure sign that I was meant to have it.
Shuffling along in line, I listened to the murmur of the bustling patrons, the hiss of the espresso machine, and the clinking of utensils against ceramic plates. This wasn’t the artsy, eclectic coffee shop I’d loved in Heart’s Cove, where my sister Georgia lived, but it had a down-to-earth honesty that I’d come to expect from my new town.
Nestled in the mountains of Colorado, the town of Lovers Peak had been named after the tallest mountain that caught the fading light of the sun every evening, its sheer face cast daily in orange and purple and gold. The town was populated by hardworking folk, supplemented with a healthy stream of ranchers and farmers blowing through every now and again. And, from what I heard, when the ski season started, tourists would fill every available bed to swell the town’s population to triple its normal size.
A good place to raise kids, I’d been told.
A good place to start over.
The baristas worked quickly, but the wait still stretched. I glanced at my watch and bit my lip. It was eight forty-one. It had taken me just under ten minutes to drive here from the office, which meant I was cutting it pretty close. But the only people ahead of me in line were the old woman directly in front of me and a man with a face that betrayed decades of hard work in the sun and wind.
I had time. Besides, I wanted that muffin.
Decision made, I pulled out my phone and fired a text message off to Mila. Bribing my new coworkers with promises of coffee was the way to make a good first impression, wasn’t it? Grinning when she answered with an enthusiastic order and a promise to see me soon, I slipped my phone back in my pocket and waited my turn.
I was next. I could practically taste the crunchy-sweet top of my blueberry muffin and the bitter notes of my coffee.
Life wasgood. All my nervous jitters melted away, and as I watched the elderly woman ahead of me fumble with her purse and wallet, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of gratitude for my situation.
I was starting my dream job. I lived in an adorable town surrounded by breathtaking scenery. My boys were adjusting well, and my sister was just a phone call away. For the first time since Nate was born, I was looking forward to earning my own money and carving out a bit of independence for myself. Finally.
“Thank you, dear,” the elderly woman said, then took hertime snapping her bulky wallet closed. She fumbled with the closure, then fiddled with her purse zipper, and I pushed back the dart of impatience that tried to streak through me.
She was a nice old lady. No need to get irritated by someone who was here for exactly the same purpose I was. We both wanted coffee—and she hadn’t ordered the blueberry muffin, so I couldn’t be too upset about the speed at which she moved.
“Would you like to purchase a ticket to the Lovers Peak Charity Home Raffle?” the young barista asked. “It’s only five dollars, and proceeds are going toward the construction of the new community center and surrounding garden and playground. You might win a house!”
The elderly woman brightened. “Well, I think I might just have to. I remember bringing my own daughters to that playground. It could do with some cleaning up, couldn’t it?”
“Definitely.” The barista smiled, and we both watched the woman unzip her purse, then slowly reach inside for her bulky wallet.
Impatience tried to grow inside me, but I quashed it. Could the barista have asked that question before the lady put her money away? Sure. But this was small-town living at small-town speed. Mila knew I was on my way. If I was a few minutes late, it would be fine.
I hoped.
Finally, with a raffle ticket safely tucked into her wallet, the older woman slung her purse over her shoulder and said goodbye to the young woman behind the register, then stepped out of the way to go wait for her drink.
I inhaled deeply, smiled, and took a step forward to make my order.
Well. I tried.
What actually happened was that I took a step and smashed right into the broad back of a man who’d come out of nowhere to cut in front of me.
“Hi, Violet,” his smooth, deep voice intoned, ignoring the crash of my face between his shoulder blades.
The young woman behind the register simpered, but her eyes flicked over to me, and there must have been some horrible, murderous expression on my face, because no words actually came out of her mouth.
“I’ll have the usual, but make it an extra-large this time. And I think you forgot to stir the sugar in yesterday, so if you wouldn’t mind?—”
“Actually,Imind,” I snapped.
There was a pause. A terrible, electric pause, like that moment between the flash of lightning across the sky and the boom of bone-rattling thunder.
The man turned. He did it slowly, as if it were completely unbelievable that someone would actually speak to him. Speakupto him. He was quite a few inches taller than me, and I saw that beneath his navy canvas jacket he wore a collared denim shirt with the top few buttons undone, so that his strong throat and sharp jaw were on full display. Eyes like coals bored into mine, one eyebrow lifting ever so slightly as he took me in.
