Page 82 of One Night Forsaken

Monday morning, I had a meeting with the staff on duty. Not wanting to sit on the couch all day, Anderson came down and offered to help out. During the meeting, I shared minute details of what Willow and I noticed in the sales. I watched the reactions of everyone present and saw wide eyes as I relayed my concerns. Lyndsey, Caleb, and Roberto mentioned seeing fewer tips and more outside cups or packages as they bussed tables.

Since the day the doors for Java and Teas Me opened, bringing in your own cup was encouraged. Not only do we discount orders if customers bring their own cups, but we also thank them. It cuts down costs and causes less waste.

But one thing we never allow is outside food or drinks. Granted, exceptions are made when children or health issues come into play, but it is a rare occasion. The menu is vast enough to cater to almost everyone, so it has never been an issue.

Then I walked the floor during the Monday rush. Saw crumpled bags from another coffee shop on the outskirts of town as I cleared tables. Tuesday was more of the same and I hated the idea of policing the front door but decided I would on Wednesday.

We still had long lines each day. The same familiar faces smiled back at me as I greeted them and made their favorite beverage. As I wiped tables and sparked conversations. Business was still good but should have been better.

Then Wednesday arrived.

Wednesday had been a shitstorm. The first hour the doors were open, more than a dozen people left because they couldn’t come in with food and drinks from another food establishment. Hour two was worse. By hour three, I wanted to scream. Wednesday felt like a nightmare… until today.

This morning, I came downstairs and went about my morning routine. Flipping chairs in the dining room, starting the coffee makers, bringing out the tills, sifting through emails and responding. Everything had been great until I sat down in front of the computer.

Unread emails—267.

On a normal day, my inbox got a couple dozen emails, give or take. The season brought more because of supply orders and invoices, but the inbox never hit triple digits. Especially overnight.

When I opened the folder, the majority of the messages were from Google or Facebook.Congratulations! You have new reviews for your business.My gut soured when it should have edged with excitement.

I opened the first email and clicked the link to the review.

If I could give this place negative stars, I would. Owner is a bitch. Told me I wasn’t welcome.

Not once had I said no one was welcome here. I had, however, told several people outside food and drinks were not welcome. And this was the result. Hundreds of derogatory reviews for my business on social media and search engines. It would take an act of god to fix this mess. And I didn’t have the time or energy to do it.

“How the hell did this happen?” I mumble in my hands for the umpteenth time.

A hand rests on my shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, Ales.” Anderson kisses the top of my head. “I’m here and I have nothing else to do. Let me help.”

Ding.My phone lights up on the desk and I groan. “Shit.”

“What?”

I hold up my phone for Anderson to see the notification from Braydon. “He’s on his way here and I’ve barely spoken to him this week.” I drop my head to the desk with a loud thump and tinge of pain. “He probably thinks I hate him,” I grumble against the grain.

Anderson grabs my shoulders and straightens me in the chair. “You should call him.” He gives my shoulders a squeeze. “Let him know things have been crazy here.” He releases my shoulders and I whine. Stepping around the desk, he stops next to the door and waits until our eyes meet. “I know he freaked you out with the love bomb drop, but don’t push him away, Ales. You care for him. I’ve heard it in our talks this week. It’s okay to not say it back right away, but don’t string him along. If you care for him, tell him as much. But also tell him why you’re scared.”

The backs of my eyes burn as tears well the rims. “I will. Promise.”

“Love you, Ales.”

“Love you more.”

Anderson exits the office and closes the door.

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. Squash the emotional overload I have felt this week. Focus on the image of Braydon in my mind’s eye and let it relax my muscles. No matter how freaked out I am over theI love youmoment, Braydon always brings me a level of comfort no one else has.

Unlocking my phone, I open the text message.

Braydon

Leaving now. Should be an hour. Is that okay?

I hate that he felt the need to ask if coming is okay. His uncertainty is my fault. I let the madness of the week get between us. My responses to him all week had been clipped. I’d been frustrated with the recent discoveries and I took it out on him.

It isn’t fair I made him the scapegoat for my issues. He has no idea what chaos has ensued. My lack of communication probably mucked everything up.

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