Page 11 of Perfect Blend

The line didn’t ease up for the next hour as downtown filled with people gathering for the parade. It was quickly shaping up to be my best weekend yet for sales. I took a moment to celebrate in the back room as I refilled the muffin tray from a Costco multipack.

With attention from Mikey’s article inLifestyles of the Queer and Fabulous, I knew the festival would grow even more next year. That meant great things for our community and my friends who lived and worked here. I stopped that train of patriotic thought before Mabel, the town’s eager Chamber of Commerce director, somehow read my mind and tried to get me to run for mayor.

After refilling the pastry case with the remaining stock, I smiled and chatted with customers and complimented them on their colorful outfits—even the glittery ones, as long as they stayed on the other side of the counter.

“Your boy toy has been hanging around a lot,” Izzy said as they fixed an Italian soda next to me while I worked the espresso machine.

I glanced at Mikey and saw him chatting with someone in line near his table. He’d always been friendly and outgoing, which was one of the first things I’d admired about him. People gravitated to him, and I couldn’t blame them.

“He’s working.”

“Right. Thearticle. All those interviews he’s doing while sitting alone at the table inyourcoffee shop.”

I shot Izzy a warning look. Mikey had said he needed a place to transcribe notes from his interviews and work on the article while ideas were fresh, and he might as well do it in the coffee shop instead of his room at the B&B. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate in that place.

It didn’t mean anything.

Far too often, my attention wandered to Mikey. Half the time, he stared at his computer, and the other half, I caught him looking at me. High School Dave wanted to doodle “I <3 Mikey” on receipt paper.

A voice startled me. “It’s busy in here. It’ll be a great day for sales.”

My ex-husband stood before me. All the giddy feelings accumulating in me since Mikey’s arrival melted like an ice cube left in the sun. The six-foot-four living reminder that happily ever afters weren’t for me smiled. I used to find it entrancing, but now it twisted my stomach, particularly at the mention of money.

Travis wasn’t some villain who had wrecked my life, though he’d damn near ruined me financially. We’d wanted different things, and I’d known if I stayed with him, I would resent him too much to overcome.

“Can I help you with something?” I kept my tone friendly enough.

That was our agreement. In public, we acted close. The official divorce story was that we made better friends than spouses. Heaven forbid the town learn that the son of one of the most prominent families in Dahlia Springs wasn’t perfect. Despite the frustration, it was easier that way. I didn’t have to answer nosy questions or risk people siding with him and it impacting my business. At the end of the day, I was the outsider.

Thankfully I’d discovered the Discord server when I’d been near a breaking point. That place and Bricker had been my sanity. I couldn’t imagine my life today if I didn’t have Bricker’s support. I wondered what he was up to. I felt bad I hadn’t been messaging him as often since Mikey had arrived in town, but we’d both been busy.

“Got a minute?” Travis asked.

I glanced at the line and noticed the owner of the hardware store and her wife watching us while waiting to order. I wasn’t interested in being the next piece of town gossip since I’d gotten through the divorce relatively unscathed.

I glanced at Izzy, who nodded. They could handle it without me for a few minutes.

“Sure.” I gestured for Travis to follow me to my office.

He closed the door behind us. Before our divorce, that click had signaled he would push me up against the wall and kiss me breathless until he dropped to his knees to worship my cock. Now, it meant the beginning of a tension headache.

“How are you?”

“Good. Busy. Pride stuff. You know.”

“Yeah.” He shifted on his feet. I knew that move. He was about to tell me something I didn’t want to hear.

“What is it?” My patience for pulling things out of him had disappeared with our beautiful home we’d sold to pay off our—his—debts when we split.

“It’s about the drag show.”

I ground my teeth but forced my frustration down. “What about it?” We’d performed the same closing duet each year since I’d created the drag show. Fortunately, it was so second nature at this point that we didn’t need to spend time together to practice.

“This lead I’ve been nurturing for weeks will be in Portland Saturday night and agreed to dinner.” He beamed like he expected me to congratulate him for bailing on me for another business deal that would no doubt result in him losing even more money he didn’t have.

At least it won’t be my money this time. His family can bail him out.

“You’re not going to perform? It’s a duet, Travis. What am I supposed to do? I can’t just ask someone to step in at the last minute.” We’d agreed to perform another year together to keep up the friendship ruse.

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