Page 76 of Red Hot Roaster

She cut me off. “No buts.”

“But in a good way,” I assured her. “The only thing better would be if you were here. Soon, girl, soon. Kisses for Baby, and keep one for yourself.”

“Hugs for you—and one for your pup.”

After closing—bar closing, that is—and a few Manhattans, a force-fed burger and another sobbing jag (luckily, Fay’s wasn’t crowded on a Monday night)—Jen brought me back to an empty house. Well, empty except for one faithful dog.

This morning—despite a fitful night’s sleep and a sluggish head—I was determined to get on with my life.

Or at least, get up and go open the café.

“One baby step at a time—right, Pi-Pi?”

He yawned, not impressed with my enthusiasm, and jumped off the bed.

I made a quick stop in the bathroom—where I was glad to see Rafe’s stuff was gone—and hustled downstairs. While his nibs was out back doing his business, I scooped kibble into his bowl (no matching Princess bowl…sad to see) and topped off his water.

“Ah…coffee…breakfast of champions. Care for a cup?” I offered as I put the kettle on and readied the French press. It was all I could stomach this morning.

Pirate ignored me to start sniffing and pawing at the base of the island.

“What are you digging up there? I can’t imagine there’re any leftovers from last week.”

He snorted and came up with a crumpled Post-it in his mouth.

“Drop it, Pirate,” I said sternly, pointing to the ground. “Drop it.”

This command had the usual not-dropping-it effect. I moved to Plan B and gently pried open his mouth to retrieve the prize. I put the pink square on the island to smooth it out and saw a bunch of other Post-its floating around the surface.

Doggone things never stuck to butcher block.

A keychain with a U.S. Army emblem weighed down one of the notes.

Ah, yes, I didn’t even think to ask for those back…keys to the apartment, the front and back doors, the garden shed, the roastery, the café, the car…my life.

The kettle whistled, and I poured the water into the press. While waiting on the timer, I arranged the Post-its jotted in Rafe’s bold hand in their likely order:

I’m SORRY I hurt you

I DO trust you to make good choices

Let me go, choose a BETTER man

I’ll text when I get there, I PROMISE

Eat a REAL breakfast

SET your house alarms

Say BYE to Pirate from Princess

“Uh-uh, Pirate. Nope. Too much for evenmywooden heart right now.” Snagging a roll from the utility drawer, I duct-taped those puppies to the countertop. “Later. I’ll think about those later.”

Ping.I plunged the plunger and filled my mug. Time to get dressed and get my day started.

Chapter 38

Rafe

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