Page 1 of Hearts Like Hers

Chapter One

Autumn Primm’s birthday arrived with a whimper thatsecond Tuesday in February.

She hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. In fact,she planned to ignore it altogether. That’s right. Just any other day in thelife of a newly thirty-four-year-old with very little to show for it. Shewasn’t rich, had no significant other, and lived a boring, predictable life. Atleast, those were the things she focused on recently.

But she did have her coffee shop, wonderfullittle highlight that it was, and a truly great group of friends that sherefused to discount.

It was a few minutes before five a.m. whenshe pulled up to the standalone one-story building, home to her pride and joy,the Cat’s Pajamas. The sign depicting a cat wearing loud pajamas and playing anelectric guitar faced the street, dark and colorless, waiting for her tobreathe life into its circuitry and kick off the morning officially. In justover an hour, she would flip the switch, igniting PJ the cat into vibrant colorso he could beckon the world inside where she would welcome them with the aromaof freshly roasted coffee. Was there anything in life that compared to thatfirst wonderful inhale? Shortly after six, the first customer of the day wouldslog their way through the glass door, bleary-eyed and in need of caffeinatedassistance, and it wouldn’t stop until she closed at nine that night.

But first, there was roasting to be done.Autumn’s favorite time of the day, the thing that got her out of bed, jazzed,and ready to go.

The night before, she’d selected a new blendfrom Papua New Guinea, recommended heavily by her distributor. With her handscradling the beans, she dropped her nose and took a deep inhale, soaking intheir unique bouquet. After brewing herself a small cup from the raw greenbeans, she made her decisions and jotted down the specific roasting profile forthe beans. She could always adjust it later, once the first batch revealed itsflavors. The beans were on the sweeter side and came with prominent floralnotes. A light roast would enhance the attributes that were already there andbring out the acidity and brightness of the coffee. Using the large metalscooper, she piled the hard, green coffee beans into the hopper and set thegauges. While the coffee roasted, she went to work getting the shop up andrunning for another day.

At a quarter to six, her assistant manager,Steve, arrived to work.

“Hey, Steve-O.”

“Hey,” her cheerful little nerd of anemployee said. He was more than just an employee, however. Steve was herprotégé. Her people. He understood the complexities of a coffee bean and howmuch you could do with it. “You start the roast?”

“Beat you to it.”

He nodded acceptance. “Next batch is mine.”

“Deal. Hey, how was the midterm?”

“Not fair at all. Half of the test had neverbeen touched on in lecture.”

“Bastards,” Autumn said in solidarity, andmade sure to look appropriately outraged. She was empathetic enough for it tobe mostly genuine.

“Thanks, Autumn.” He offered up a sweetsmile, showcasing straight teeth with the exception of one crooked incisor.Gave him character. Steve wouldn’t be Steve without it. The two of them gotalong fantastically. It was exciting to have someone to share her passion with,and Steve was someone she could count on. She’d taken him under her wing andschooled him regularly on flavors and roast profiles. He kept a pad in his backpocket full of notes from his various blends. Adjustments he wanted to make totimes, intensity, and cooling tactics. The kid was getting good, and it was funto watch his progress. Autumn trusted Steve. Liked him, too. She didn’t knowwhat she would do if she lost him once he completed his chemistry degree,though he claimed he had no plans to go anywhere. When he graduated, a healthyraise would certainly be in order.

That morning, they fell into their usualroutine. Steve would handle the counter and she’d back him as needed, whilealso funneling in a myriad of other early morning tasks that came with runningthe business. Which reminded her, she’d not seen the billing on that newespresso machine she’d just incorporated to cut down on wait time. As sheriffled through yesterday’s untouched mail in search of it, she came to anabrupt halt at a large white envelope addressed to Ms. Autumn Primm in swoopy,swirly calligraphy. The envelope felt thick and heavy in her hand. The papercame with a rough texture that screamed of importance. She knew exactly what itwas and dropped the offending envelope right there on the counter. She took astep back, her eyes trained on it.

Not today, on her birthday. It didn’t seem fair.

She tried to go about her morning, chattingwith her regulars, forcing herself to brighten into the perfect hostess eachtime a familiar face arrived. All the while, her stomach turned, and she stoleglances at that white envelope, taunting her from where it sat on the counter,evil messenger that it was. Eventually, she’d flipped the damn thing over asshe passed by, anything to hide the perfectly formed letters that spoke ofelegance, and happiness, and joy to all…but her. Unfortunately, the regal sealon the back was almost as bad. Autumn swallowed back hot tears at the largerimplication of the envelope’s arrival and took a moment for herself in the preproom.

“Hey, Autumn,” Steve called from up front.“Can you lend me a hand? We’re backing up and I could use you.”

“Yep,” she called, already pep-talkingherself into making it through this day if it killed her. She jogged in placefor several seconds to shake herself out of the emotional fog that clung, heavyand imposing. Exercise had a way of focusing her. She returned to the front ofthe shop with her game face on, shocked to see her three closest friendsstanding there wearing pointy birthday hats. When they saw her, the whole placewent nuts, regulars and new customers alike.

No,no, no.

Following the cheers, they broke into theHappy Birthday song, and on the table closest to the counter sat a line ofmuffins blazing with birthday candles. She closed her eyes briefly and notedthe awful timing. While she had every intention of sweeping her birthday underthe rug of history, the most important people in her life had very differentideas. Her gaze moved over the faces of her closest friends, Gia, Hadley, andIsabel, who all lived in the Seven Shores apartment complex next door. Theybeamed as they sang, leading the customers in a loud, out-of-tune rendition.

“Happy birthday to youuuuuuuu.”

As the room clung to the very last note ofthe song, Autumn burst unceremoniously into tears.Bollocks. “I ruined it,” she said glumlyfrom the chair they’d ushered her into. “You guys were so sweet, singing yoursong and smiling, and I ruined it. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Hadley said, herbright blue eyes earnest and kind, her glamorous blond hair flowing free aroundher shoulders. Always at the ready, she handed Autumn a tissue.

“In fact, we could use some of those tears toput out a few of these things,” Isabel said, gesturing to the still-burningmuffins.

Hadley turned to her and offered one discreetshake of her head.

“No?” Isabel asked. “Not right now?”

“No,” Hadley mouthed.

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