Page 8 of Coffee Break with the Billionaire

Idon’t understand, I imagine my father saying, but he would never because that would initiate an in-depth conversation about my likes and dislikes, and romantic relationships, and our father-daughter bond doesn’t do well with talks like that.

“Do you understand why I was so upset?” No one has asked about the why behind my outburst, which means they already assume Tiger must have cheated or knew and didn’t tell me.

“My darling girl, it doesn’t matter what I think, or what he did or you did or if neither of you did anything. You are in the public eye, which is your choice since you continue to play around the world.”

I’m not sure ifplayingorpartyingsoundsbetter.

“When people see you in that light, you will always be at fault, even when you’re innocent of any wrongdoing,” he continues in his mild lecturing voice. He never really gets upset with me.

My therapist suggests I have issues with the fact my father never gets upset about anything I do. I’m not sure I agree. My mother seems disappointed in everything, so it’s a refreshing change to have one parent on my side.

“I am innocent,” I say in a quiet voice.

He pats my hand. “I know, but unfortunately no one else will see you that way. Let’s talk about you taking a little vacation. A quiet little vacation.”

Chapter four

Silas

Iset the pumpkinspice latte and warmed cinnamon bun on the counter. “Mrs. Geordie, your order’s ready,” I call to the older woman.

At least I think she’s older—Mrs. Geordie wears more makeup than a circus clown and sports decidedlyyoungclothes. Today’s combination is a cropped Hello Kitty T-shirt complete with sequins, and ripped jeans so baggy she could fit her dog in there. Said dog is pulling at his leash, salivating at the thought of getting a bite of the cinnamon bun Mrs. Geordie will give him as she gossips about the upcoming royal wedding of Prince Kalle and my cousin, Edie England.

There’s enough bun for the both of them; Sweets Ashore, the town bakery that supplies them has been making them bigger and bigger for a while now.

“Nathalia, watch the frother,” Leodie says, a note of irritation in her voice.

That note has been there for a while. Three weeks and two days to be exact, ever since I was forced to hire Nathalia because of a lack of anyone else.

I have a good team. Leodie has become one of my best friends, and Jem is a riot to be around with his pop culture genius that has him randomly quoting movie dialogue and song lyrics. Daphne, who used to work here—

But Daphne is gone and I had to find someone else, so Nathalia came aboard. I suspected from the start that it wasn’t a good idea, but I was desperate. Having the store open ten hours a day, every day, with only three to staff is a bit much. I’d love to replace Nathalia with two others, but hiring and firing is my least favourite thing to do.

The door opens again, and with it comes a gust of chilly October air. Cheerful fall sweaters and brightly coloured scarves have been the norm around Battle Harbour since early September because when the wind starts coming down from the Arctic, it gets cold around here. Today is one of those days; the bright sun is hidden among ominous gray clouds.

There has been a rumour of snow all morning but I think it’s too early. The wind will clear things up and we’ll have sun again tomorrow.

At least I hope. We’re busier when it’s nice out.

I make coffee, warm up pastries. I smile and chat, and wish everyone a nice morning. I do the same thing every day, and I do it well.

Coffee for the Sole might not have been my first love, but it does have a big piece of my heart and I’m happy here.

The door opens again and brings a burst of laughter with it. I don’t look up until I hear Leodie’s gasp.

An actual gasp, so I check it out.

Prince Gunnar walks in, which is no big surprise, nor is seeing him with Stella Laz, his new girlfriend. Leodie’s reaction comes from who is with them: the dark-haired, extremely good-looking man who looks around like my shop is beneath him, and Fenella Carrington.

Fenella Carrington.

I blink and she’s still here. Still here and moving closer, close enough for me to take in the drops of rain gleaming like diamonds in her black hair and the way her pink scarf brings out the colour in her cheeks.

“Ash, stop being a Starbucks snob,” Fenella says to the dark-haired man as she approaches the counter. “If you want coffee, this is the place to get it.”

“Considering we don’t have a Starbucks here in Battle Harbour, you’d be out of luck,” Stella adds.

“What kind of place doesn’t have a Starbucks?” he mutters, and I recognize the etched cheekbones as belonging to Ashton Carrington, Fenella’s twin brother.

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