Page 19 of Walking Red Flag

My brows rose. “Why’s that?”

She looked at her phone and started tapping away.

My phone buzzed, and I looked down at the screen to see that I was in a group chat with Maven and an unfamiliar number.

Maven:

Becky, this is Maven. You were talking to me about a job you were looking for, and I think I might’ve found the perfect one for you. This is my sister, Milena. She owns a coffee shop. It’s called The Grizzly. Come down and meet her!

“Her dad’s someone important. I’m not sure who, or why, but…”

Becky:

I can only work really early hours. Five to maybe ten a.m. I have classes at eleven.

Me:

That’s perfect. Come apply.

Becky:

OMW

“That’s teenage speak for ‘on my way.’” Maven snickered.

“I feel like this might be too good to be true,” I admitted.

Maven shrugged. “She worked really well when she came in with one of my other workers for the day. They’re best friends. I don’t need another helper, or I might’ve hired her myself. I really gotta go, though. I have to stop next door at the bakery before I leave,” she relayed.

I waved her off and watched her go out of the coffee shop doors, then walk right through the bakery doors.

Years ago, when we’d first started talking about attaching my coffee shop to her bakery, it’d been a pipe dream. Something we’d thought might never come to fruition.

However, last year, both Auden and Shasha had brought it up, and Shasha had run with it.

Now, we had a brand new, state-of-the-art building.

On the left side was her now-finished bakery, and on the right was my coffee shop.

Maven’s staff had made the move with her.

Mine had, like always, flaked out on me.

Though, I couldn’t blame them really.

We’d gone from having the coffee shop in Dallas to about twenty-two minutes east of Dallas in Sunnyvale.

Most of my workers didn’t want to drive five minutes, let alone twenty to get to work.

Hence the interviews.

I turned to survey the bare walls of the coffee shop.

Just as I was daydreaming on what it would look like, I heard the door swish open behind me.

Expecting it to be Maven again, I didn’t turn around, and instead said, “Please, please tell me you came bearing gifts. I could really go for a pastry right now.”

“Sorry,” a deep, very delicious sounding male voice said from behind me. “No pastries, but I see that there’s a bakery next door.”

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