Page 21 of The Barista's Beloved

“You are?” she asked, stepping around the desk and coming to stand in front of him. “How?”

“So, um. You know I used to be a lawyer…back when I was still a d-bag?” His lips quirked to the side, remembering that conversation. So much had changed since then.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, um, my area of expertise is real estate law, and despite what the barista gig may indicate, I was good at it. But the thing is, I don’t have much experience saving buildings so much as acquiring them. And, uh, getting them torn down.” He winced.

She crossed her arms over her chest in a protective gesture. “Sort of like the company that’s trying to shut us down, then?”

He looked up at her sheepishly. “Exactly like the company that’s trying to shut you down.”

“So how does that help us?”

“Because I’m not just good at it, Maeve. I’m the best. Better than the guy who’s here in River Hill to see this deal go through. Trust me. I’ve met him, and he’s nothing but a pompous windbag. He’ll never see me coming.”

She stared at him for a long moment, and he watched as so many different emotions flashed through her expressive green eyes, the final one a stab to the heart. It was defeat. “We can’t afford a lawyer, Ben. We literally have zero money to fight this.”

“I’ll do it pro bono.”

Her eyes went round. “You’ll take the case for free?”

He nodded in the affirmative.

“Oh my god, Ben! You’re the best.” All at once she launched herself into his arms and hugged him tight.

Ben stiffened, and willed his body not to react. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her too. Friends hugged, he told himself as he patted her back the same way he did to his grandma when they hugged. This isn’t sexual. Don’t make it into something it’s not. And don’t you dare poke her with your penis when all she wants is a damned hug.

He disentangled himself from her embrace. Before she leaned away, Maeve kissed him on the cheek and then bounced on her toes, her body vibrating with energy. “I can’t wait for you to tell Joan.”

“I can’t make any promises, except that I promise to try.”

Maeve’s smile transformed from one of excitement to fondness. “You really are a good guy, Ben Worthington.”

Except maybe he wasn’t.

In all the excitement over the takeover, he realized he’d never gotten around to apologizing for having propositioned her the night they’d been at the distillery. That definitely wasn’t good guy behavior. “That sounds great. But, uh...about the other night. I wanted to thank you.”

“The other night?” Her head tilted to the side and she studied him intently.

“Yeah, it was a dick move to say what I said. I’m really sorry, and I wanted to thank you for, um, sending me home. You know? Honestly, aside from Max, I don’t have a lot of people I’m close to. I’d hate it if I did something to jeopardize our friendship. It’s too valuable to me.”

“Right,” she said, rubbing the toe of her shoe back and forth over the cracked linoleum. “Our friendship. Of course. Don’t worry about it. Honestly, I’d forgotten all about it.”

“You had?”

She waved her hand in front of her face. “Totally water under the bridge, as you Americans say. Who hasn’t gotten drunk and said something inappropriate? I used to do it all the time.” She laughed easily and turned toward her desk. “Let’s get you in to see Joan, shall we?”

Ben stood rooted to the floor, a strange sort of disappointment washing over him. He’d meant what he said: he valued her friendship and he never wanted to do anything to compromise it. Still, for one brief moment he’d let himself imagine a different response…one where she told him that she’d wanted him to make a move on her. One where she laughed and said that she would have climbed him like a tree if he hadn’t been falling down drunk. One where she confessed that she thought about him every waking moment too.

Only, she hadn’t. So now he needed to do what Maeve had said and put it behind them. Water under the bridge, indeed.

“All right.” He put one foot in front of the other and followed her out of the foyer and down a long, drab hall. “Let’s go talk to Joan and figure out how we save this place.” He might not get the girl, Ben reasoned, but something good could come from this. At least he hoped so.

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