Page 7 of High Note

“Oh, God help us.” Lupe rolled her eyes. “You and your critters. How many are you getting for the office?”

“One.”

Lupe shook her hand. “They’ll be lonely. Get two. Two kittens will play together.”

“Oh, this is my lucky day.” Kirsten chortled. “Oops. I see a patron waving me down. Be right back.” She headed off to get drink refills and to-go boxes. It was really slow this time of year on a Monday, but Cherry did a brisk take-out business in the snow, so they all did their part to serve the few and faithful who came in.

She liked her job here—it was easy, she loved Cherry, and she made enough in tips for her needs.

Didn’t mean she wasn’t ready for shift change so she could hit the coffee shop up before it closed. She would grab a bunch of the end-of-day baked goods at a discount and carb load.

Kirsten delivered her last few pizzas, tipped out the dishwasher, and then took off her apron. “I’m out, y’all. Be good. See you tomorrow night.”

“Have a good day, honey!” Kiley called. “Don’t let it get to you, with the, you know.”

“Never. I’m just a grouch.” And she had a headache and needed something with chocolate.

Something rich and decadent and better than sex. Maybe ooey gooey chocolate chip cookies, or a chocolate croissant.

Chocolate croissants…

She shrugged the collar of her coat up, tugging the knit cap out of her pocket. Man, the snow was coming down hard.

She trudged to Caffeine Ivy’s, and man, was she ready for coffee when she got there.

It was bitter out.

The place was rocking this afternoon, and the baristas were busting their butts. Kirsten got in line, just standing, waiting forher chance for sugar and caffeine. Making her order, waiting for them to call her name. Grabbing her coffee, waiting for a free table.

Christ, that was sort of the story of her life, wasn’t it? She kept waiting for her chance. Trying to find something?—

Oh.

Oh, that was a song!

She kept repeating the lyric until a table opened and she sat and put her pastry down before she grabbed a napkin and started scribbling.

I keep standing

Waiting for my chance

Praying for a

Second chance romance

The door opened, another blast of icy air rushing in, along with a small woman with the hood of her fancy coat pulled up around her face. She headed to the counter, and Kirsten forgot about her until she heard a throat clearing right next to her.

She glanced up, gaze landing on Skyla Bridey’s famous blue eyes, minus the gigantic fake lashes. “Oh. Hey.”

“Hey.” Skyla kept her voice pitched low. “You mind if I sit? It’s packed in here, and I kinda know you, at least.”

“No worries. Have a seat.” Dammit. She was onto something here.

“Thanks. I won’t bother you, I promise.” Skyla sat, her hood falling back to reveal double braids, no make-up, and a pink turtleneck sweater. She tugged out her phone and started scrolling, giving Kirsten her peace, even when her coffee and croissant arrived.

She went back to work, making notations as she did, and she managed to—almost—forget Skyla was there.

At least until she found herself humming her new song, the music always coming more easily to her than the lyrics, and before she knew it, Skyla was vocalizing with her.

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