Page 13 of Knotted

“Sí,” Dave adds with a wink. He takes another sip of his unfiltered swamp water, and Mr. Richards’s words come back, full force.

Find out how he takes his coffee.

To him, it’s just another task for the rookie, but the idea of Brian Bishop and coffee?

“What’s on your mind?” Dave nudges my arm, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.

“Hypothetically,” I start, trying to sound casual, “if I wanted to find out how someone takes their coffee, how would I do it?”

Dave’s lips curl up like he’s savoring the thought. “Depends. Hypothetically, are we above stalking?”

“Probably not,” I admit, the idea churning in my mind. “But full-on dumpster diving? That’s a hard pass. I’m not that desperate… yet.”

“Is he hot?” Lisa asks, her curiosity piqued.

I haven’t seen him in a decade, but the answer slips out, automatic and sure. “Yes.”

Lisa’s lips curl into a wicked smile. “Then I’d fuck him into a coma and ask him in the morning.”

My mind goes straight to the gutter, picturing him fresh out of the shower, skin slick and glistening, those ice-blue eyes locked on mine like I’m a triple fudge sundae and he hasn’teaten in a week. The thought of him handing me a cup of coffee before dragging me back to bed to fuck me senseless almost undoes me.

Jesus, Jules, pull it together.

The door slams open, and I barely have time to react before the boss storms out, cigarette already lit. “No, seriously, don’t bother getting up. Let’s all pretend we’re in kindergarten and take our breaks together. What’s next, nap time?”

We trudge back inside, like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Dave, being Dave, can’t resist poking the bear. “Don’t take it out on us just because you’re stuck peddling fake private dining experiences. Maybe hand out some virtual reality goggles to smooth things over.”

Marty doesn’t even blink. “Keep it up, wiseass, and I’ll make sure you’re stuck serving every VIP reservation we’ve got. Permanently.”

Dave’s smirk falters. “All right, all right. No need to go nuclear.”

The rest of the shift drags on, each minute feeling heavier than the last. By the time I’m on the subway, I’m too exhausted to even care that I’m standing. I finally make it home, drop onto the couch, and do the unthinkable. I pull up the only photo I have of Brian.

Graduation day. Not mine. His.

Three rows down, theB’sstraight in front of theS’s.I zoom in, focusing on his face, but my eyes drift to the right, and there she is—Angi.

It’s like a punch to the gut every time I see her. The memories hit me in waves, the good ones tangled up with the bad, until I can hardly breathe.

If you can describe a disastrous storm as bright and beautiful, it was Angi.

My phone buzzes, and the screen lights up with a familiar face, her dark brow quirked in that signature way. “Hi,” I answer, bracing myself.

“Hi? That’s all you’ve got?” My mother’s voice blares through the speaker, riding that fine line between annoyed and thrilled. “Why am I the last to know you landed a job?”

“It’s just an entry-level position, Eomma. I don’t even start for a few weeks.”

“Your dream job, Juliana,” my mom says, her voice softening, laced with that familiar undercurrent of pride that threatens to sweep her into a full emotional riptide.

I’m not sure why landing a job makes Eomma so emotional, but considering my mom tears up over everything from Disney movies to Hallmark commercials, I’m not about to rock the boat.

“Remember how you used to interview everyone?” she asks. “And that piece you wrote on Mrs. D.? She still has it framed on her wall.”

A smile tugs at my lips. Mrs. D. As in Mrs. Delilah Donovan, the legend of the Adirondacks. She started as the local mom who could whip up a feast from scratch and ended up a celebrity chef with her own YouTube channel, turning Donovan’s from a cozy mom-and-pop spot into a nationwide sensation.

She’s not just a mentor; she’s family in the way that matters most. Mrs. D. didn’t just open a door for me—she threw it wide open, offering me my first interview, my first job. She gave a quirky, awkward girl with thick glasses and amouth full of braces a chance—a place where she finally belonged.

And because she’s Mrs. Claus to everyone, she also gave Brian his first job, too, unknowingly setting the stage for the epic disaster of senior year.

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