Page 9 of When London Snow Falls

“Well?”

“Coffee services, mainly.” I gesture widely at the café. It’s hardly Buckingham Palace or something posh, but we’ve got real cred with the bohemian set of Soho and university students. My lips twitch. “If you’ve noticed.”

“Oh yeah? What else? I bet there’s more.” His grin glows. “Great gig, by the way. I would love to talk to you about the show sometime, in addition to any services you’re offering.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Jasmine’s shoulders shake with silent laughter. Because it’s best to embarrass oneself in front of an audience, of course. But I’ll take the high ground. I’ll show him. And Jasmine.

“Coffee and music are the services you can buy,” I say gamely in an effort to recover my long lost chill.

“And the services I can’t buy?” He grins, unrepentant. “I bet you’ve got a lot of talents that could be…useful.”

Oh. My. God.

“Bold.” I give him a challenging look.

He shrugs. “I know what I want.”

So do I.I consider him, all appealing angles and blond hair that doesn’t obey order and gravity. God, he’s tempting.

The drumbeat in my skull is echoed by the drumbeat in my chest. The adrenaline again. He must hear my heart thumping away through the din.

Don’t get tempted. You can’t. There’s no way that’s ever happening.

“Before my manager flays me, what can I get you?” I try to sound nonchalant.

“An Americano, I think. Please.” His smile thrills me from the inside out. He’s a bit devastating like that, charming with a hint of the wicked about him. It’s a heady combo.

I nod. “As you wish. You’re in danger of becoming a regular, you know.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” He looks solemn but the glint in his eyes gives him away. “You never know what might happen.”

“I bet you say that to all the boys.”

He laughs with delight. “You might think so, but I actually say surprisingly little sometimes.”

“Calling bullshit.” An unfamiliar pull at the corners of my mouth turns my rare smile into a mirroring grin. “I guess we’ll just have to see if you ever come back. Or maybe the questionable service has driven you off.” I try to look convincingly casual, leaning against the counter. “That’d be bad for business. Hell, it could even jeopardize my job if I’m driving the customers away.”

“I’d hate for you to lose your job.”

I shudder involuntarily at the thought. It’s hard not to think about my tuition shortfall because I put sending money to Emily before paying for university.

“God, me too.”

“Well, I suppose I should let you get back to work then. Still would love a chat sometime about the gig.”

The day I talk to the lead singer of Halfpenny Rise aboutmygig is the day I die of mortification. Clearly, I need to divert him. “You might need to buy something else to justify all this time at the till with me.”

He considers the display case. “Hmm. Then I’ll take a chocolate chip cookie.”

“Just a cookie?”

“Two cookies, actually. One for each hand. I need to keep my strength up.”

“Good thinking. That’s important.”

I give him the cookies in a paper bag. In return, he gives me his bank card and I ring him through, feeling strangely lighthearted.

We smile foolishly at each other as I pass him his card back.

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