Page 1 of Love Undercover
1
Crimes Against Coffee
There were plenty of signs that should have tipped Sadie off. First, the fire alarm that woke her up before five in the morning. Its blaring chirps sent her shooting straight up in bed, heart a jackhammer against her ribs.
Jerking awake in a panic well before she’d planned to be up and having to stand outside in her rattiest pajamas for forty-five minutes was definitely an omen of things to come. If Sadie put stock in that sort of thing, she would’ve crawled back into bed for the day.
The spilled coffee was the second sign. Because she’d been rushing—even more than usual—she didn’t make sure the freshly poured mug was securely on the counter when her hand left its sides. Not only did she lose the precious caffeine, she broke her favorite mug, and there wasn’t time to brew another cup after cleaning the mess. She hadn’t even had time to secure her bronze-colored hair into its usual braid.
She found the rip in her favorite pair of linen pants as she walked into the library where she worked over the summer. The frayed edges of the hole along the seam in the fabric tickled against her thigh, drawing her attention and a huff. She could sew it later. Or—the more likely scenario—she’d toss them into the laundry basket and forget all about them until the next time she wore them.
Looking back, that third strike should have set her quaking in her organic hemp sandals. But that was still before the proverbial you-know-what hit the you-know-what.
The overly air-conditioned library created a constellation of goosebumps along her skin, and her shoulders drooped. She’d, characteristically, left her sweater in the car. It was ninety-five degrees outside already, and of course, she knew the air-conditioner was necessary in the middle of July in Maryland. But needing a sweater inside during the height of summer was a little ridiculous. Whoever was in charge of the indoor temperatures overcompensated, and it made her want to send an anonymous hate email. Maybe she could pretend to be a patron.
Greg had always harped on her for complaining about being cold wherever they went inside buildings during the summer.
“Just bring a fucking sweater, Sadie. How is that so hard to remember?”
High quality, that one was, she thought with a curl of her lip. Definitely no qualms about the end of that relationship, though she regretted the fact that there had been a relationship in the first place. Unfortunate she’d stuck it out as long as she had.
“Why are you frowning?” Roberta Jenkins pulled a stack of books off a cart she’d wheeled to the counter.
Sadie blew out a sigh, her whole body deflating. “I forgot my sweater in my car.”
Roberta was always early and liked to get a jump on the holds people placed overnight on the website for pickup. She was in her late forties, single, a little sour, and shelovedbooks. More than anyone Sadie had ever met. Roberta often said doing the holds made her feel connected with readers and helped her learn about the patrons who checked them out. She would smile in fondness over the volumes she, herself, had read at one point or another and wrote down titles she hadn’t yet gotten to.
“Ah. Well, you could go get it before you clock in if you’re quick. Or during your break.” Roberta looked down at the cover of a hardback novel and pursed her lips. “Not sure you have enough time before your shift starts, though.”
Following the rules was one of Roberta’s favorite things, outside of books, of course. Not that Sadie was a rule-breaker. But she also knew how to be flexible. Being a kindergarten teacher made it a necessity.
Instead of responding, Sadie gave her a sarcastic thumbs up—which she missed—and headed for the back office to dump her stuff. She pouted a little when she spotted Roberta’s travel mug of coffee sitting on the desk, lamenting the lost time that morning and the fact that she hadn’t been able to stop on the way for a replacement. To be fair, her particular preference and brand of coffee were harder to find, and there were very few cafes that carried it. Not to mention it was much more expensive—ethically sourced and organic tended to be.
She was starting to think it was a splurge worth making in this case.
But since Roberta was doing her a favor by letting her work the summers between school years, she had to play by the pedant’s rules. It was kind of a dream side gig for a teacher, really. Many of her friends took jobs in retail or coffee shops over the summer.
Hmm, being a barista would have come in handy right about then.
“First toddler time is in fifteen minutes,” Roberta called, and Sadie ground her teeth at her saccharine sing-song voice.
Not that she didn’t like what she did. But sans caffeine and over-tired didn’t mix well when dealing with a room full of toddlers. She needed energy and verve.
“Got it!” She tossed a wistful look at the travel mug and briefly considered stealing a sip before she came to her senses. She was more desperate than she realized, though she had known for some time that her coffee addiction was borderline out of control.
She tucked her purse into the drawer of the second desk in the office and straightened to brush her hair away from her face. She forced the biggest smile she could manage in anticipation of exaggerating the voices and cadence of storytelling to a bunch of one- and two-year-olds.
Back-to-back sessions brought her right into her break. After all that time doing dances and hand motions, she regretted not flouting the rules and arriving a few minutes late in favor of brewing another cup or stopping somewhere for that caffeine fix.
She rubbed at her cheeks to soothe the soreness from smiling so much during her toddler reading times and headed toward the office.
“Roberta, I have to run over to the coffee shop,” she said as she passed the older woman.
Roberta looked over the rims of her reading glasses as Sadie came back through the front desk area. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but she dipped her chin instead of reminding Sadie that her break was exactly fifteen minutes.
Small miracles.
The summer sun was sweltering outside, but its attempt to blister her skin only resulted in a pleasant shiver as it chasedaway the cold from the library. She even looked forward to the baked innards of her car for the few minutes it would take for her to warm up before overheating.
