Page 133 of The Charm of You

How many times have I followed these exact steps? Wake up, get dressed, and pick up a venti latte with Beverly on the way to work from this very café.

But today feels different.

The roast isn’t as comforting as I remember it.

I don’t recognize the people scattered among the table.

There’s no Mrs. Goodwin or Maren serving coffee with an easy smile and a special charm only Sapphire Creek offers.

This feels off and tainted somehow.

“Babe, I’m going to take this call. Can you get me the usual please?” Beverly steps out of the line with her phone to her ear, and I slide up to the counter.

Blazer greets me, and I joke, “Did you miss me last week?”

“Excuse me?”

The chatter seemingly grows louder, so he probably doesn’t hear me. There’s a long line behind me, and instead of making casual conversation as I have all week while I was in Sapphire Creek, I brush the hair out of my eyes and say, “Our usual, please.”

He frowns. “What usual would that be?”

Okay, he definitely hears me this time, and he has no idea what I’m talking about. More than that, he doesn’t know me.

“It’s me, Caroline,” I chirp. “My roommate Beverly and I come in here every morning for venti lattes. Your dog’s name is Rufus, and you have a pet snake you call Baby. You opened this café eight years ago, thanks to your grandfather, who wanted to help you make your way in this city like he did when he first moved here.”

He cringes, and his nose ring shines angrily under the light overhead. “Did you stalk me online or something? Because that’s not cool.”

Murmurs from behind me grow louder, and impatience trickles from them to me as I attempt to wrap my head around this personal injustice.

“I did not stalk you,” I assert with a huff. “You told me these things yourself, just like I told you that I worked at Five Star Real Estate and that I enjoy chocolate milkshakes from Rosie’s Corner three blocks over.”

He continues staring blankly at me, and it’s clear I’ve lost this battle.

Beverly steps in with a gentle touch to my elbow and says, “We’ll take two venti lattes, please. One with oat milk and the other with whole.”

As she nudges me to the side, I scoff. “Can you believe him? He has no clue who we are. I asked him for our usuals, and he totally blanked.”

“So?” She laughs, but it’s hesitant. Why is she not as upset as I am over this? “I didn’t know all those things about him. I’m surprised you do, to be honest.”

“I talk to people. Get to know them. Establish connections. I’m a people person—it’s my superpower,” I ramble. “It’s why I was hired at the agency in the first place.”

She points between Blazer and me. “Is this the sort of thing that’s common in Sapphire Creek? The whole bit where everyone knows your name and life story? I thought that was just a myth.”

I purse my lips and wrap my arms around my peacoat.

It’s not particularly cold up here, not compared to the winter temperatures coming soon, but it’s colder than it was down South, especially this early in the morning. While this coat is necessary, it feels tight on my shoulders.

I’m off today. I’ve been off for the last three days, and not because I’m sore from driving so many hours back to the place I’ve called home for the last ten years.

But has it been my home? Or have I been blinded by the sparkle of it all, and I forgot to ask myself if this is what I want forever? Is this city my happy ending?

Bev rubs her hands up and down my arms. “Are you cracking? Is this a meltdown?” She dips her head to level me with her concerned eyes. “You’ve had a lot going on, what with Edward and Austin and your mom. You’re so close to getting your job back, but if you need to take a minute, we can go together tomorrow.”

She’s right. A lot has happened over the last week, the details of which I divulged to her the last two nights over takeout.

I’m exhausted. Taking a beat before jumping into the next ring of fire, so to speak, might be a smart idea, but I can’t put this off any longer. After all, it’s not going to be easier tomorrow, the next day, or next month, so why wait?

“I appreciate that,” I tell Bev. “But it won’t be necessary. I need to do this today.”

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