Page 180 of The Hookup Situation
Brody chuckles. “I’m great. Thanks. Have you been well?”
“Fantastic! Still single. Living my best life.” Blaire leans forward, glancing between me and Nick. “Is everything okay? He’s a literal killer.”
Nick chuckles. “He’s also very stubborn, and he does whatever he wants. I didn’t request his services.”
“You know, I can hear you,” Brody says.
Blaire clicks a few buttons, and when Nick tries to pay, she shakes her head. “You’re comped.”
“Oh, come on,” Nick says. “Please let me pay.”
“No,” Blaire says.
“Okay then. I’d like to pay for every single person in here to treat themselves,” Nick says, raising his voice.
Thirty people clap, and many line up behind us.
“Give them whatever they want,” Nick tells her, handing over a thousand dollars. “Keep the change.”
She scoffs. “You’re not serious.”
“I wanted to support my woman’s business,” he says with a wink. “This is even better.”
When our drinks are finished being made, Sierra hands them over to us. “I’ve missed you so much. You’re the best schedulemaker in the world. Just know that I will never complain again once you come back.”
I laugh, because of course that’s what I’m known for—not the scandal, not the photos, but the girl who makes sure nobody misses their life events. The reminder that my old life still exists is somewhat of a relief. I can’t let what Craig did define me.
I give her a smile. “Just glad you’re not going to take me for granted when I return.”
She’s one of our youngest employees, and I try to give her every request she makes because I know what it was like to work away my youth. Shit, I’m still doing it.
“I definitely won’t,” she says as the printer goes off with orders. Marianna, another one of our employees, works the other machine. “Anyway, I gotta get to it. Please come back soon. Tracy is a hard-ass!”
“Don’t talk about your aunt that way,” I tell her. “I’ll be back soon.”
Mrs. Patrick waves from her corner table, where she’s chatting with a few book club members. Tom Valley is in his usual chair, mustache waxed to perfection. Everything seems normal—maybe too normal.
Once Brody grabs his coffee and croissant, I get ready to lead the way across the room toward an open table by the window. But as I open my mouth to chat with Nick, the door chimes.
Craig.
My mouth falls open.
He’s unshaven and wearing wrinkled clothes. He’s lost weight since I last saw him, and there’s something uneasy in his expression that makes my blood run as cold as the river in the winter. His eyes are bloodshot. When they lock on mine, it’s dangerous, like a rattler uncoiling.
The hum of the espresso machines, chatter, and clinking cups all die at once. The silence is louder than the noise ever was.
Before I say a word, Craig has spotted us. His face transforms with anger when he sees Nick turn and glance at him.
“Julie.” He says my name like it’s a prayer and a curse.
“You need to leave,” Blaire says from behind the counter. “Now.”
“I just want to talk to her.” Craig takes a step toward us. “Five minutes. That’s all.”
“You’re violating a restraining order,” Nick says, his phone already dialing the police station.
“I don’t care!” Craig’s voice cracks. “I’ve lost everything because of her. My job, my home, my reputation.”
