Page 15 of My Blind Date is a Werewolf

“The new girl wanted you to check out her menu one last time before she got started.”

“Her name is Lauren. Please stop calling her the new girl. It is disrespectful and she’s older than you,” I chastised Wendy, who’d taken one look at my new part-timer Lauren and decided she did not like her.

“She’s not that much older than me. And if she can’t take a little ribbing, maybe she should stick to her side of town. What’s a rich girl like her doing slumming with the rest of us mortals? It’s not like she’s hurting for the money,” she scoffed, crossing her arms and tapping her flip-flops on the floor.

I rolled my eyes at her lame argument. So that’s why Wendy hated the mere sight of Lauren Pemberley. Wendy’s family lived in a trailer park just on the outskirts of town near the border separating Mystic Cove and Beckford, whereas Lauren was essentially what passed for a socialite in Mystic Cove.

“Is this going to be a problem for you? I can’t have the two of you talking smack behind the other’s back and—God forbid—in front of the customers.” I put my hands on my hips. Wendy narrowed her eyes, the sunlight streaming through my office window reflecting off her nose stud and making it look like she had a mini rainbow sparking off the side of her nose.

“Why, what did Miss Thing say about me?” she asked, her voice fraught with suspicion.

“Wendy, that’s not the point. Look, I don’t care what the beef between you two is, but this is the first and last warning I’m going to give you—keep it out of my shop. Jumpin’ Beans is getting busier by the day, which means that I’m going to slowly start bringing in more employees and I need us to work as a cohesive unit. That means from eight in the morning to six-thirty in the evening, you and Lauren are the best of buddies, capiche?”

Her tongue poked at the inside of her cheek as she mirrored my stance. I raised my brows, waiting on her answer, and kept my expression stone faced.

“Yes, boss,” she eventually replied. I followed her out to the kitchen. Without a second glance at Lauren, Wendy went back out into the shop, her back and shoulders stiff.

Lauren’s gaze followed her out the door, only looking at me once they closed behind Wendy’s retreating back. Although she was dressed casually in a pair of distressed jeans and a black Chanel T-shirt with an apron over it, Lauren did indeed stand out. She’d tied back her shoulder-length blonde hair and stuffed it under a hairnet, and I would bet everything I owned that the diamond studs in her ear were the real thing and not cubic zirconia like the ones dangling from my ears.

“So, this is the lunchtime menu for today. I wanted to get your approval before I got started.” Lauren was pleasantly competent, one of the reasons I hired her over all the other candidates I’d interviewed over the weekend. I was already teaching Peter how to make some of our crowd’s favorite pastries, and eventually I’d make him a permanent kitchen staff member and bring in one more baker and maybe one or two people for the wait staff. But I couldn’t hire them all at once. I hoped to bring in the next baker before the end of the year, maybe sometime in December, right before Christmas.

I took the paper from her, reading over the small selection she’d drafted up. We’d both decided to start small and see how it went. If the customers didn’t respond positively—by which I mean profitably—then I’d just go back to serving coffee and baked goods.

“I was thinking we should just have two salad and soup options for today and sandwiches and smoothies for those who don’t feel like getting caffeine.”

“Smoothies? We don’t have any fruits in stock. Other than that, everything else seems okay.” I gave the menu back to her.

“Oh, that’s okay. I brought an assortment of fruits with me. We can make this a trial run.” She opened the fridge and brought out bowls of freshly cut fruit and half-frozen fruit. Apples, bananas, pineapples, kiwis, strawberries, blueberries, and I assumed paw-paw. Then she removed two giant tubs of yogurt, one low-fat plain yogurt and the other strawberry. “I was thinking we put these out front and the customer can choose what they want to go into the smoothie and we blend it for them. If you don’t mind, I’d love to use some of the leftover muesli and raisins from this morning.”

“I don’t see why not. We’ll have to use the coffee takeout cups for today. I’ll try and see if my supplier can rush over suitable smoothie ones by the end of the day.”

We ironed out a few more details and I helped Wendy at the counter during the lunch rush while Peter worked with Lauren in the kitchen. My heart leaped every time I heard the bell above the door chime, thinking Adrian had come in. I both wanted to see him and had my fingers crossed that he wouldn’t stop by today. When 2:30 came and went (he usually picked up his lunch between 1:00 and 2:30), I was left oddly bereft and twisted up over the complicated emotions leaving me in knots.

I’d just finished bagging up an order, one that I’d messed up beforehand, when Wendy approached me. “Boss, are you not feeling well? You’ve been out of it all day.” Wrinkles marred her forehead.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I can feel a massive headache coming on. I think I’m going to take off early today. Can I trust you to handle closing?”

“Sure thing. Should I swing by your place with the keys or can I take them home?” I told her to keep them for the night, not wanting her and Peter to go out of their way when they only had their bicycles to transport them.

“I’ll use the spare key to open up in the morning. You know all the updated security codes, right? And make sure to leave this place spic and span so that we don’t have to deal with clean up first thing in the morning.”

With that, I grabbed my handbag and laptop case from the office and headed home. I walked past The Book Coven and kept my eyes straight ahead only to backtrack and storm into the store.

There was a line three people deep at the counter, so I passed the time browsing through the shelves nearest the counter, not really taking any interest in the stationery, pretty as it was. But there were also jars filled to the brim with assorted crystals. Whether they were purely decorative or if they had actual magical properties, I didn’t know. There was a huge, round, amber crystal sitting next to the jars. I reached for it without thinking, loving the way it felt against my fingers. It was a pale facsimile of Adrian’s eyes, but close enough that I felt a pang in my heart.

“Amber represents cleansing and renewal in crystal language,” Beverley spoke up right next to me. I didn’t hear her walk up to me and let out a sharp gasp, the stone slipping between my fingers. In a display of impressive reflexes, Beverley caught the crystal between her thumb and index finger and held it up to the light.

“A curious crystal, amber. Not quite a gemstone, but rather fossilized tree resin, carrying with it all the rich warmth of mother nature and an ancient energy we can’t even begin to comprehend. It is both a precious gem and an ancient wise tree rolled up in one fiery crystal,” she drawled on mindlessly, turning the crystal this way and that. I was beginning to wonder where she was going with her little spiel.

“If you want, I can have Sophia fashion this into a pendant for you. She’s quite into jewelry making these days and is exceptionally skilled, my granddaughter.”

“That won’t be necessary.” I grabbed the amber crystal from her hand and placed it back on the shelf. Beverley followed the movement, an inscrutable expression on her face.

“I’ll go on the blind date. That is, if my perfect man is still open to going out with me,” I blurted in a rush before I completely lost my nerve. If there was someone out there for me, I didn’t want to waste my time mooning over another man when we were basically doomed to fail before we started anything.

“Oh! Well… May I ask why you changed your mind?” Beverley took my hand and led me to a seating area by the bay windows at the front of the store, not minding that she had customers milling about.

“Does it really matter why I changed my mind? You told me to reach out whenever I was ready to put myself out there, so here I am. What’s the next step? Will you finally tell me the mystery man’s name?”

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