Page 13 of Coffee Shop Girl
“Because that’s ridiculous.”
“Why is it ridiculous?” I shot back. Nothing was as exciting as a counter. “I require a service that you can provide. I need a place with internet and a quiet room. You can give me that. It’s the same business exchange as when you bring me coffee.”
Her eyes widened. “It’s not.”
“I disagree.”
“No. I won’t make that deal.”
“Why not?”
“I appreciate the offer, but it’s too ridiculous.”
“Really?”
She tilted her chin up. “Yes. You were here yesterday. Doesn’t take a genius to see that this place is a hot mess about to start on fire. No onewould offer two grand a month in rent for a four-square-foot office. C’mon. I’m not an idiot.”
Oh, this girl. She was about a breath away from giving into this place. Maybeshewould burn it to the ground. I could see the resentment in her eyes now, and that was good. Right where I wanted her.
“Regardless of your opinion”—I straightened, and she seemed relieved—“I still need an office. What would make this palatable to you?”
She hesitated for at least ten seconds. I let it ride, waiting without expectation or pressure. Only a rookie tried to fill the silence.
“Twenty-five bucks a day,” she said with a piercing annoyance that would have cowed a lesser man. “Unlimited use before noon. If you need it after that, another twenty-five dollars. You can pay by credit card weekly, at the beginning of the week.”
Quick deal-making meant she was fast on her feet, and her pride meant she wanted to earn her money, not just take it. Both admirable traits, but they were working against her in this environment.
With a smirk, I held out a hand. She accepted. I felt her touch all the way into my shoulders.
“You have a deal,” I said.
She held out her other hand as I let hers go with unexpected reluctance.
“Great. Now give me your credit card.”
5
Bethany
“What is going on, Bethany?”
Jada met me at the back door of her office with a perplexed expression. She wore a tasteful knee-length black skirt and a bright-purple peasant top. Around her neck hung a stethoscope and a mess of beads. Despite her professional presentation, her shoes were a pair of ballet flats, double-reinforced for extra protection from standing on her feet all day. Her thick black hair was pulled back in a bun at her neck.
I stepped out of my clunky, post-college car with a heavy sigh, a small purse hanging off my shoulder.
“You sounded odd on the phone when you called,” she continued. “I’ve been worried about you. Why did we have to wait until my staff was gone to meet? And who is this?”
“Ellie wouldn’t come unless you were the only one here.”
“Ellie?”
Lizbeth sat in the back seat, eyeing Jada warily. She’d donned one of my old caps and tied her hair back, hiding her beautiful fiery strands. She seemed entirely too small and vulnerable. Ellie lay under a blanket on the floor of the car. She’d refused to leave the attic until I promised her she could completely hide and Jada would be the only person we’d see.
“Something a bit unexpected came up,” I said. “Do you have an exam room we can sneak into? I’ll explain it all there.”
Jada’s curious expression dropped into concern as she gazed past me to Lizbeth, then back to me. Something seemed to click.
“Of course.” Jada gestured toward her office. “Just back here.”
