Page 10 of Bittersweet

“I should go.” Harper looked like she might make a move for the door at any moment.

“Stay.” His eyes pleaded. “You haven’t told me why you called yet.”

Her throat moved as she swallowed. She looked unsure at first, then gave a simple nod as her reply.

A smile crossed his face as he emptied the used espresso grounds from the machine with a hard tap. He was about to ask if she wanted to help him make a cappuccino when Marco interrupted.

“He’s back, boss.” Marco nodded toward the window.

A sudden loud pounding on the door followed, causing Harper to jump.

Logan rolled his eyes again and opened the door to a red-faced, overweight, middle-aged bald man about to blow his top. “What can I do for you, Harry?”

“Stop parking in my space, Riggs!” Harry replied through gritted teeth. “I told you, this is my space. I’ve been selling coffee here for two years. You can’t just show up all of a sudden and take all my business.”

“You don’t own this space, Harry.”

“Move your truck!” he demanded.

“I’m in the middle of serving customers. I’m not moving the truck. If you want this spot, you’ll have to get here earlier than me. That’s how it works.”

The sound of cars honking caught Logan’s attention. He stepped out of the truck to see Harry’s food truck parked in the street next to his, completely blocking the traffic lane. “Come on, dude. You can’t leave your truck there.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” Harry got up in Logan’s face.

Logan tried hard not to laugh at this man, who wasn’t the least bit intimidating to him, but he couldn’t help it, which only antagonized Harry and got Logan a hard shove backwards.

“Whoa!” Logan raised his arms in the air. “I don’t want trouble. I just want to sell coffee.”

“Not here.”

Harry’s face was so red, Logan thought he might have a heart attack right then and there. “Let’s come to some kind of an agreement, Harry. We’re both mature adults. We can figure this out.”

“The only thing you’re gonna do is move your truck and never park it here again.”

Logan was beyond fed up with this guy and anxious to get back to business and back to Harper.

More than one person drove around Harry’s truck with their middle finger in the air or spouting four-letter words at them, and then things got worse with the approach of red, white, and blue flashing lights atop a navy blue police car.

Logan’s shoulders sagged. “Now look what you’ve done.”

“Me?” Harry shook his head.

The officer approached with a scowl and pointed to Harry’s truck. “Who is the owner of this vehicle?”

“He is.” Logan was quick to offer.

“It’s mine, officer,” Harry admitted, “but I had no choice. He parked in my spot. I’ve been selling here for two years, and he up and stole it.”

The officer shook his head. “I want both of these trucks out of this spot in the next five minutes, and I don’t want to see either of you back here again.”

Logan wanted to punch Harry in the nose. Hard. “But officer—”

“Do you have a problem with that?” The officer eyed Logan.

“No, sir.” Logan wanted no trouble with the law. He’d had enough of that in the past.

“Good.” The officer looked back and forth between the two of them once more. “Five minutes.” He returned to his car and remained parked there, obviously waiting for them to move.

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