Page 4 of The Candlemaker

The charming smile that graced my face was staged, just like the rest of me. Like the buildings I sold, I knew how to look and what to say to get people to buy into me—into the person I wanted them to see.

“Welcome to the Maine Squeeze,” the barista said cheerfully over her shoulder; she was in the middle of cleaning the espresso machine. “We’ll be right with you.”

We—

“Hi. Welcome,” another woman said as she appeared from the back, a bag of cups in her arms. When she looked up, I did a double-take, my keys falling from my hand onto the floor.

It was the woman from the crosswalk. Except it wasn’t.

Her hair was styled differently—braided down either side of her head—and she had big glasses on, and her clothes were now a Maine Squeeze uniform, but it was her.It had to be her, right?

I swiped up my keys, and when I straightened, she regarded me with a pleasant, ignorant smile.

Tinted windows, I reminded myself.

“Welcome to the Maine Squeeze. What can I get for you?”

My eyes flicked to her nametag. Lou.

“Iced Americano.”

“Small or large?” Her smile was constant.

“Large.”

She plucked a cup from the stack and noted my order in marker. “Name?”

“Col—Chandler.”

Her brows perked up, and I knew the reason.

“Like fromFriends,” I grumbled, learning long ago it was easier to get the association out from the start and move on. Though it was easiest to avoid the conversation all altogether by introducing myself as Mr. Collins.

Unfortunately, that didn’t fit with this version of myself. Or my goal to conceal who I was from these people.

“Yes, right,” she said and nodded, almost like Mr. Bing hadn’t been her first thought. “I love that show.”

So did my mother.

“A classic,” I offered as she passed the cup to her counterpart at the espresso machine.

“Did you guys just open for the day?” I wondered casually.

I didn’t check the schedule on the door because the sign said open, but that was the only way to explain how she was crossing the street only a few minutes ago.

“Oh no,” she gushed. “We’ve been here since five this morning, but you’re a little early for the regular crowd.”

Since five?—

“Anything else? We’ve got some amazing blueberry muffins this morning.”

“I…sure,” I fumbled and pinched the bridge of my nose when she went to grab the pastry.

What the hell was this place? The Twilight Zone?

She—Lou—was the woman in the road. I knew she was. I hadn’t looked at a woman and had it affect me like that in…a long time. But if she had been here since five…

The bell clanked again, the flat sound interrupting my thoughts.

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