Page 59 of Crazy In Love
“That doesn’t mean you have to stay away. But there’s a whole wide world outside of Plainview. It would be a shame to never see it. I feel kind of lucky because I’ve traveled almosteverywherein the last few years.”
Her eyes widen, brimming with excitement.
“It’s beautiful out there,” I sigh. “I cherish my memories and the photos stuck in my cloud storage I’ll probably never look at again.”
She snorts. “You’re kind of my hero, and we hadn’t even met five minutes ago.”
“Well, you know my name, and you probably know where I’m staying. I’ll be atHappily Ever Afterfrom nine till five, five days a week. I bet there are books there about the Fashion Institute of Technology. And France,” Itease, since any aspiring designer dreams of visiting Paris in the spring. “You should drop by, since you’re literally the only nice person I’ve met here besides my best friend.”
She sprinkles a little chocolate on top of my milk froth and caps the cup, then she slides it across the counter and taps my purchase into the register. “My name is Raya. Collins,” she adds as an afterthought. “I might swing by the bookstore sometime.”
“Good.” I wave my card over the reader and wait for it to beep and take my money, then I set everything back in my bag. “Oh, and since you’re nice and all that, you should know about the party I’m planning for Alana.”
“A party?”
“Mmm. The baby’s here, and it serves as no surprise whatsoever that those Watkins boys didn’t even consider a baby shower to honor her. So a month from now, I’m having a little shindig over at the gym, and since I don’t hardly know anyone, I’m inviting you.”
“At the gym?” She squeaks. “The war room gym?”
“Uh…” I wrap my hand around my coffee and carefully drag it closer. “I thought it was called Love & War?”
“It is.” She waves me off. “But locals call it the war room. You’re having a party there? Where the Watkins twins will be?”
“Well, one of the Watkins twins is the baby daddy, so… sure.” I flash a teasing smile. “It would be best if he were there. And while we’re on the topic, Chris Watkins is in charge of ordering a cake. I’m told this is where he’ll come, and heswearshe’ll take care of it. But if he fails to do what needs doing by the end of next week, maybe you could let me know?” I lean against the counter and roll my eyes. “He’s allergic to talking to other human beings, I think, and he might let this detail slip. I’m not his mother, which means I refuse to nag him. But if he fumbles, give me a head’s up so I can take care of it.”
“Sure.” She brushes flour off her apron and massages her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’ll keep an eye on the situation.”
“Excellent. Oh, and do you know any handymen around town?”
She frowns. It’s entirely possible she considers me insane, jumping from topic to topic. “Uh, I guess I’d have to know what exactly you need help with.”
“A mini-bathroom renovation.” My stomach tumbles, and my pulse quickens because, damn, I still feel Chris Watkins between my legs. I feel his cock filling me all over. His hands on my flesh. I feel the bruises he left behind, and, more importantly, the absolute knowledge he knows how to destroy me in all the best ways. “I need tiling repairs,” I mutter, brushing ahand over my lips to muffle my words from listening ears. “And a new shower door installed. The sooner, the better.”
“Well…” She nibbles on her pinky finger. “I’m not sure. But I’ll have a think about it and let you know.”
“You’re the best.” I glance over my shoulder and find a long line of customers tapping their toes and not-so-patiently waiting for their turn to be served. So I grin and bring my eyes back to Raya. “Thanks. Do you work here every morning?”
“Seven days a week. I have class earlier on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but every other day, I stick around till about nine-thirty.”
“So maybe I’ll see you every other day.” I dig a hand into my purse and search for some cash, and when I find it, I slide a ten-dollar bill across the counter. “For such good customer service, and hopefully the start of a Raya-goes-to-New-York fund.”
“Thanks.” She slips her bounty into the pocket of her apron and blushes. “I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. Don’t forget the cake situation. I’m begging you.”
She giggles. “I won’t.”
I take my things and meander toward the door, passing curious stares and beady-eyed scrutiny. Some of the dozen in line watch me with obvious distrust. Others look down their noses despite the fact I’m physically taller than them. One even drops his chin and avoids meeting my eyes.
Andnoneshow any concern when I slam my toe on that fucking step, as the pain steals my breath and draws me short. “Shit!” I skip through the doorway, spilling my coffee and burning my hand. “Dammit!” Limping onto the sidewalk and wiping the spilled coffee onto my pants, I turn right and trudge my way toward the bookstore.
I could grumble under my breath, growling about this shitty town. I could mass-text my friends and tell them this place sucks. Hell, I could scream in the middle of the street, confident I wouldn’t even get hit by a car, since traffic here is less common than a horse-drawn cart.
But then again, Plainview seems to be on a mission to break me, and knowing my luck, the moment my feet touch the tar, a fleet of carts is apt to run me down.
Instead, I eat my pastry and continue toward the bookstore, and when I remember I didn’t spillallof my coffee, I sip the deliciously rich beverage and arrive atHappily Ever Afterin a fractionally better mood.
Chief Happiness Officer, indeed.
