Page 21 of Billionaire and the Barista

GABRIELLA

Idon’t know how I was functioning. I continued to breathe, to smile, to make conversation. My mind was racing faster than the motorcycles I used to love to watch, to ride. My stomach twisted back and forth on itself, and yet, I didn’t throw up, even though my nerves were that riotous.

Nathan was in Love Buns. Feet from me, smiling.

I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. I had cupcakes and coffee to move. I had hungry people needing a little boost to help them get through the rest of the week before they could enjoy their weekend. I could do this.

His voice was as rich and velvety as I remembered, and the way he said my name, goosebumps formed over my skin in a rolling shiver.

“So, you do remember me?” he chuckled.

How could I have forgotten about him? Did he really think I was so shallow as not to remember him?

“Yes, I remember you. Have you decided what you want?”

I tried to be as calm and professional as I could. At this point, Nathan was simply another customer. He was not so damned handsome that I couldn't focus. Close, so very close. His hair was a hint longer and unkempt, he hadn’t slicked it back like he used to. Was he back for more than a vacation? He wore the same casual clothes he always had before. Casual but expensive. His jeans were designer, and the fading was intentional, not natural. His shirt had the look of some foreign sports team jersey. He was not a reason to go running scared and hiding in the back. Or to crawl over the counter and kiss him so hard he forgot who he was. Or was this the emotion that scared me the most, the anger I felt between my shoulder blades that wanted to reach out and slap him across that handsome smug face. How dare he leave me the way he did?

I could have stood there staring at him like a confused goldfish, but I had customers waiting. Customers who came back week after week. Customers that kept me in business.

When he took a seat to, I think, wait for me, I felt the pressure of his gaze. It didn’t settle my nerves at all. It felt like scrutiny and judgment. Well, he could judge me all he wanted. I kept telling myself that I didn’t care what he thought about me anymore.

In all this time I had not successfully managed to stop thinking about him, as much as I would have wanted to. It was near impossible, not with Robbie. Not with our son looking so much like him. More so than my memory had even remembered.

Nathan’s eager smile hurt my heart when I took a cupcake to him. He was going to end up waiting forever if he just sat there expecting me to be able to take a break with him.

I handed him the cupcake. So many words cut through my head. Go home, Nathan. Why haven’t you walked through my door before now? Do you still want me? Why do you assume I still want you? You have a son. You left me, you bastard.

Another surge of customers came through the door.

“Sorry, I have to get back to work.”

I had always suspected that Nathan hadn’t realized I owned the café. After all the last time I had seen him, I had only been twenty-one. Maybe he didn’t know too many twenty-one-year-olds who owned and ran their own café. But it proved that he hadn’t bothered to learn all about me.

I couldn’t go to Europe with him, and he never even gave me a chance to explain, he hadn’t asked.

I did my best to ignore him after that. I had too much going on in my life to want to let him come back in and confuse everything.

When he finally walked out of the front, I felt my bones melt. I sagged against the counter with a heavy sigh.

“You, okay?” Miguel asked.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I tore off my apron and pushed into the kitchen, leaving him to handle the rush on his own.

I wasn’t good. I started gulping air like I couldn’t breathe. I paced back and forth in front of the refrigerators. I was an adult, I could do this, I could handle Nathan being back in town. Why had I given him the phone number to the café? At least I hadn’t given him my cell number.

A crash of dishes followed by a loud curse had me jumping out of my skin.

“What the hell? Who’s that?” I said as I walked back to the sinks and dishwasher.

A skinny teen stood in front of the sinks. He had his arms in the hot water scrubbing. His skinny butt was dancing to whatever music was blasting through his earphones.

I learned next to the sink. Ricky looked over at me and pulled his headphones away from his ears.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“When did you get here?” I asked. I hadn’t noticed him showing up for his evening cleanup shift.

“It was a madhouse when I got in. I figured I had better just get to washing if it was that crazy out front,” he said.

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