Page 53 of Perfect Assumption
There’s a long period of silence in front of me, so long that I find the girl staring down at my black card with a completely blank expression. “Is there a problem with it?” I flip open my billfold, ready to extract one of a half dozen more just like it.
“Are youtheWard Burke?” she whispers incredulously. Her eyes catalogue my face before she begins to flutter her hand in front of her face. “Oh, my God. Youare.”
I wince. “I’d appreciate, for both Angie’s sake and mine, if you didn’t make a scene.”
“I can’t believe Angie knows you and never said a word. Every morning, the girls gush about who’s trending for the celebrities. And your name is always at the top of it.”
I feel myself blushing. Christ, I know it happens, but I still don’t get what on earth about my life is so interesting that ittrends. I cough to clear my throat. “I hope you don’t pester Angie with questions about any of the stuff you read.”And I hope to God none of it is true, I pray silently.
Even though when I was younger I was accepted into certain circles because of the school I attended, those circles widened once the number of zeros after my bank account did. The reality is while Carys and I could both decide to quit working tomorrow and not put a dent in the money we have, that isn’t how we were raised. We’ve both barely touched the interest of the trust fund our parents left to us. I can hear my father’s voice inside my head.“Hard work will bring you lifelong friendships you will cherish more than any amount of money wasting away in a bank account. Remember that, Ward.”
So, while I have the capability to live beyond most people’s imagination, I still work hard. I enjoy the company of friends. And beyond anything, I cherish my family. How is that any different from any normal man? I wonder.
The young girl’s stammering voice interrupts my thoughts. “No, sir… We wouldn’t… Angie’s…”
My voice turns almost sinister when I ask, “Angie’s what?”
“Angie’s special. She always has a kind word for everyone here, compliments for new hairstyles, that kind of thing. She spends time getting to know people.” She finishes ringing up my order, and I swiftly sign the touch pad, leaving a large tip. “I feel bad though.”
Her words cause me to pause as I’m slipping my card away. “Why’s that?”
“Angie’s one of the sweetest women I’ve ever met, but there’s a cloud hanging over her.”
I’d like to refute the coffee savant’s words, but I can’t. Instead, I jerk my chin up. “Have a good day…”
“Mara.” She points to the pin attached to her apron.
“I appreciate your assistance,” I tell her sincerely.
“There’s a survey at the bottom,” she rushes to inform me. “If you complete it, and it’s favorable, I’m entered to win extra time off. I’d appreciate it if you took the time to do that. I could use it around the holidays, Mr. Burke.”
Normally I’d throw away the receipt as soon as I expensed the charge, but thinking about Angie, I know she’s likely completed every single one. Deliberately, I reach into my pocket and pull out my Mont Blanc and write “Mara” on the receipt before flashing it to her and slipping both the pen and the receipt back into my suit coat.
She beams at me before pointing to the Pick Up sign where I can get our to-go order.
While I’m waiting, I realize I now have more questions about Angie than I do answers—something I wasn’t expecting after I came into this little cafe that smells like heaven.
And it appears I can only go to one place to get the answers I want.
Twenty
Angela
Roses are red, Violets are blue. What would you do if Ward Burke bought breakfast for you? One of our loyal readers got this snap of him carrying this tray of drinks and bag of goodies. After zooming in really close, I spy a cup marked with a “C.” Could that be for his sister, Carys? Oh, to be adored by one of the world’s most eligible bachelors that much.
— Fab and Delish
“Here.” Carys hands me a cup of steaming coffee when I enter the kitchen the next morning. “You look like you need a pot of this, but we have to get to the office.”
“That’s okay. It’s not your job as my boss to keep me caffeinated.”
“No, but as your friend, I’m worried about what last night did to you.” The underlying concern in her voice causes me to part my lips to tell her what happened.
To trust.
Fortuitously, David walks into the kitchen at that moment carrying Ben, who looks like a corduroy sausage in his cold-weather gear. “Mama!” he cries, reaching for Carys.
Carys hides her frustration at being interrupted before taking her son into her arms. “Umph! I swear this might keep you warm, but it makes you feel like a small tank.” Finding the only bare skin on Ben’s neck, Carys begins laying kisses there before pressing them all over his face.
