Page 75 of How to Break My Heart
My lips curve upward, but my indiscretion brings me back to reality. If it were Marco I fooled around with and not Aston, I’d be sharing all the sordid details. Instead, I’m hiding this secret just to protect my best friend. “Go to sleep, Maddy. You need to rest.”
Maddy expels another yawn, which then prompts me. We fall into a vicious yawn cycle until I glance over and notice she’s sleeping. With soft snores passing through her lips, I tug on the blanket to cover her body.
I watch her sleep, ignoring the guilt seeping into my conscience. Maddy is my ride-or-die, and Aston is someone who has piqued my sexual interest. That’s where this needs to end.
Despite the yawns, I struggle to fall into a deep sleep, tossing and turning for most of the night. All the while, Maddy is fast asleep, so I try not to wake her with my constant movement.
I give up when the clock hits five, deciding to take a shower and head downstairs early. It takes me forever to decide what to wear, but I opt for jeans and a black knitted sweater with cherries all over it. Before I leave, I write a note on a piece of paper and stick it to Maddy’s head, letting her know I’m downstairs in the café.
It’s still dark outside when I turn on the lights in the kitchen. The café doesn’t open until seven, leaving us time to let the dough rise before frying and icing. I throw all the ingredients into the mixer to prepare, but then my phone rings with Billie’s name flashing on the screen.
I press answer, putting the call on speaker. “Hey. Everything okay?”
“Not really,” Billie replies with a worried tone. “Mom’s had a reaction to her new medication, and I need to take her to the ER.”
My hand immediately reaches out for my phone to bring it closer. “Do whatever you need to do. I’ve got this covered. Will you be okay?”
“I have to be, don’t I?”
I can hear the trepidation in her voice. With a heavy weight sitting on my chest, I take a seat on the stool and try to think of other ways to help Billie.
“I’ll call Chloe to help out. Take as long as you need,” I offer, feeling helpless.
Billie rushes to say goodbye so she can take her mom to the ER. I’m praying Marco is at the hospital and can maybe help her out. Given that we are a small town, the hospital isn’t that big and sits on the border of where two other towns meet. I’ve visited only a few times, but each time, it was busy, as they are always short-staffed.
I take a breath, mentally preparing myself to work independently for the day. It’s only after I mention Chloe on the call that I remember she drove into the city to take her sister to look at student housing near the NYU campus, since she’s transferring there next semester.
Maddy enters the café just before seven, helping me out with the morning rush before leaving for a meeting with the caterer at nine. Before she leaves, I assure her I will be fine on my own, since our regulars have left, so there won’t be too many customers in the store.
I’ve wiped down all the tables and restocked the glass cabinets with fresh donuts when a small bus stops at the front entrance. The doors of the bus open, and a bunch of elderly people slowly take each step off the bus and gather on the sidewalk. There are at least twenty of them, and they don’t look like locals.
One lady doesn’t take long to turn around and point to the café. They all nod in agreement, and before I have a chance to prepare anything, they enter one by one and occupy all the tables.
Great.
I lose track of time, taking orders and mustering up my patience when three customers list their dietary requirements. They felt it was important to inform me. Then they proceeded to tell me the whole story about their hip surgeries, which led to all these problems to begin with.
At the counter, I work the espresso machine, making sure I prepare each order correctly. God knows what will happen if the lady at table five accidentally drinks cow’s milk instead of soy.
God does know, and so do you, after she gave you a descriptive breakdown of her bowel movements.
The machine expels a grinding sound while crushing the coffee beans. As I momentarily glance up, I see Aston standing at the counter wearing a charcoal-gray coat with a light blue dress shirt. The shirt is slightly unbuttoned, exposing a small amount of his chest.
He cocks his head, rubbing his chin while looking deliciously sexy. “So, you are alive, then?”
Those green eyes dive into my soul, stopping my ability to breathe for just one moment. I shake my head to pull myself out of the trance, then respond, “Billie’s mom is sick, so it’s only me today. It was fine until this busload of customers arrived.”
I wait for him to say something to rile me up, but instead, he removes his coat and moves behind the counter. “Where do you need me?”
“Um… what are you doing?”
Aston throws his coat under the counter and begins to roll up his sleeves. “I’m helping you.”
The corners of my mouth curve as I fold my arms. “You can’t help me. I bet you’ve never even made your own coffee. You’veprobably got some hot maid who brings it to your bed each morning along with a happy ending.”
He continues to fix his sleeves as my eyes are drawn to the veins on his muscly forearms. Sitting on his wrist appears to be an expensive watch, but he leaves it on, unbothered by it.
“The maid was hot, but my coffee was not. So I fired her,” he deadpans.
