Page 33 of Billionaire and the Barista

NATHAN

Isaw the old motorcycle parked in front of Love Buns when I pulled in. I was going to have to deal with my past. Gabriella wasn’t going to let me get away with messing with Mitch. He had become somewhat important in her life. But I hadn’t figured out exactly how.

I strode in. I didn’t see either Gabriella or Mitch.

I ordered two cupcakes and a coffee before setting up at a table. I pulled out my laptop and began reviewing emails from several property agents we worked with. We were looking for several properties in Texas. They didn’t have anything promising yet.

I looked up when I heard Mitch’s laugh blended in with Gabriella’s. I loved the sound of her laughter; it was the sound of angels riding unicorns. If her laughter had a color, it would have been sparkling and a full rainbow.

Mitch started walking toward the door. He dropped a glare in my direction. Fair enough, I had earned it.

“Hey, Mitch,” I said.

“Oh, so you know me this time?” his voice was gravelly from years of smoking.

I started laughing. “Yeah, I know you. I can’t believe you fell for that bullshit I dished out.”

I stood and approached him, my hand out for a shake. He surprised me by tugging me into a hug.

“Good to see you, man.” He clapped me on the back and the brief show of affection was over.

“So, you gave up riding or was that bullshit too?”

I nodded. “Haven’t been on a bike for years.”

“What happened to that beautiful bike of yours?”

“My parents sold it off,” I said.

He tilted his head and hummed. “Well, I haven’t seen it since. Hopefully, it found a steady rider.”

“How do you know someone didn’t paint it and bring it?”

“I never forget an engine. You wouldn’t recognize the crowd that races these days.”

“So, you still support all of that?” I asked. “I can’t believe I was ever that dumb.”

“Young and cocky. Don’t worry about it, we all go through that phase in some form.”

“But you still show up, support all of that?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t think you really understood what my mission was back then, still is.”

“Any mission statement that involves street racing is doomed to fail. Is that what she’s doing with the racing crowd? Some mission?” I nodded toward Gabriella.

She smiled at me, but customers kept her behind the counter.

“I can only surmise what she’s still doing with them. You should ask her.”

I let out a derisive laugh. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get her to stop working long enough to talk?”

“You got to talk to her on her terms, while she’s working,” he said.

“Is that so? Is that what you were doing in the back? Talking?”

I guess my tone took a turn to the judgmental because suddenly Mitch was in my face. He was a wiry man, so I didn’t think he was all that big, but with him in my space, growling in my face, I realized I had underestimated his size.

“I don’t like what you are insinuating. It’s one thing to be disrespectful to me, but you will not be disrespectful to Gabby. That girl has been dealt from a crappy deck and she makes it work. She works hard, and she doesn’t put up with idiots. And you are talking like an idiot.”

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