Page 115 of Fresh Old Bounties

“Seriously?” I said, louder than their argument. “Don’t do that in the shop.”

Dru whirled toward me. “You can’t trust anything this bastard says.”

“Did you tell her your version of events?” Preston demanded.

“It’s the only version!” she replied.

“You are messing with my job!”

Dru took a step back, crossing her arms and giving him a frosty stare. “No kidding. Like you messed with mine?”

“I didn’t mess with that.”

“You stole it from under me.”

“They were never going to give it to you.”

“Of course they were!”

I put two fingers in my mouth and let out a loud whistle. As I expected from my long experience in the coffee shop industry, they jumped and immediately spun toward me.

“What?” they asked in unison.

I made a T with my hands. “Time out.” Addressing Preston, I asked, “Why did you come here?”

He straightened and tugged his shirt collar back into place. With a last glare at Dru, he turned his charm back on before facing me.

“I came to let you know you can stop your campaign against me.”

Dru gasped. Not a maidenly shocked gasp, but the kind of sharp inhale that preceded an all-out brawl.

Preston lifted a hand in a wait gesture.

As if that’d stop Dru.

“Someone else outbid us.”

Dru’s mouth clamped closed.

“Who?” I asked.

“An art gallery.”

My eyebrows shot up. That came as a surprise. “Whose art gallery?”

“I don’t know yet.” His lips pursed. “But I’ll find out.”

A slow cackling filled the air. It came from Dru.

“An art store on steroids? Perfect.” She laughed again, her eyes full of evil glee. “Now, get out.”

Preston gave us another wide smile. “I’ll be seeing you. We’re still opening in Olmeda.”

Dru scrunched her nose at his back as he went through the bead curtain and out of the shop.

Without paying for his coffee.

The nerve.

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