Page 17 of My Vigilante Valentine

Figuring I had enough intel for my crime-stopping plans tonight, I packed up my laptop, sliding it into my bag before making my way to the door.

As I passed the counter again—with no Luna in sight—the compliment jar on the counter caught my eye. It sat near the register where a tip jar would normally be.

It was a silly thing, really. Just a mason jar with a handwritten label that said, “Give a compliment, get a smile,” in loopy handwriting. Probably hers.

I should’ve kept walking. Should’ve kept my head down and my focus where it should be.

But instead, I surprised the crap out of myself by picking up one of the pink slips of paper next to the jar and scribbling with abandon.

Decent coffee.

Annoyingly decent atmosphere.

No name. No flourish. Just a pointless note in a jar full of pointless notes.

Before my brain could decide it was a mistake, I folded it twice and dropped it into the jar. Then I swiftly turned and left the shop, telling myself it was nothing.

But that ache in my clenched jaw?

It said otherwise.

5

you need to calm down

The espresso machine let out a faint hiss as I wiped a streak of caramel syrup from the counter. It was the end of a long day, and I was more than ready to get off my feet.

Wednesday—my fave employee—shrugged into her coat near the door.

Her name might’ve belonged in a gothic franchise, but her aesthetic screamed sorority brunch with her passion for pink and her gravity-defying ponytail.

She lifted a hand as if to wave to me, but then she paused, tilting her head subtly toward the shadowed corner where Jax Thorne sat.

“What about him?” she mouthed.

I rolled my eyes, tossing the rag into the sink as I came around the counter to lock the door behind her. “Don’t worry,” I whispered. “I’ll let him know this isn’t a hotel.”

Wednesday smirked, and then she high-tailed it out before I changed my mind about letting her go early—something about a date with a boy she met online.

At least she’d agreed to share her location with me. She knew I watched too many true crime shows to be okay with her plan if she didn’t.

But honestly, it seemed like people were looking for love everywhere I turned. Couples came in by the busload and ordered my now-perfected Valentine’s Day specials, and every time I turned around, they were kissing or canoodling over their lattes with hearts drawn in the foam.

Even Chris went on a date last night with someone he met at the grocery store—an adorable place for a meet-cute if you asked me.

So, even if I was too busy for anything other than dreaming about my secret crush(es), I couldn’t really blame my girl Wednesday for wanting to leave early for a hot date.

I locked up behind her, the satisfying click echoing in the now-empty space.

Er—almost empty.

Despite Wednesday’s intentionally loud goodbye—her attempt to tell Jax he was overstaying his welcome—he’d remained oblivious to the world, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

I studied him for a moment, the glow from his screen highlighting his sharp jaw and the crease between his brows. Whatever had him so engrossed clearly mattered—so important that it kept him from noticing the shop closing up around him.

Maybe he was a poet.

Or a mystery novelist.

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