“You’re welcome, sweet pea.” She winks and walks away. I can’t help but think of another server who was friendly like Shirley (but about twenty years younger). Jeanine worked here for years before she went to work for Noah at the Pie Shop.
I used to see her a lot more over there, especially when I’d make weekly deliveries. I was lonely. She was lonely. And it didn’t take long for us to start dating.
We kept it going about four months, until we both agreed the relationship wasn’t doing what it needed to for either of us. She wanted deep, meaningful love (understandably), and I wanted to wipe Madison from my system.
She never said it outright, but I think she suspected I’ve always loved Madison. Sort of like how I think she’ll eventually get back with her ex. It’s why we are still friends—there was just never anything special between us.
“You were saying?” Noah prompts.
“Oh. I’ve always wondered, why do you come here for coffee when you make and sell your own at the Pie Shop?” I down a big gulp and wince because it’s like water compared to mine.
“Because mine doesn’t taste as good.”
“You brew the same brand of beans.”
“Yeah . . .” He takes a drink. “But it doesn’t taste the same over there.”
“You’re telling me the Diner’s greasy aroma adds something positive to the flavor of the coffee?”
“It would seem.”
“Or maybe Shirley blows kisses into the grounds every morning.”
Noah shakes his head, fighting a smile. “What are you doing here? Hiding from Tommy?”
“No, he left yesterday morning, thankfully.”
“Who left yesterday morning?” asks Will Griffin while leaning onto the counter as he takes the barstool on the other side of Noah.
He must have a mole somewhere in town, because he’s started showing up every morning that I do. He hates to be left out of a hang. I was skeptical about him being happy here in Rome long term when he turned in his bodyguard boots to stay here for Annie. But my skepticism was misplaced. This guy was made for a small town. Made for Annie too. You wouldn’t think it by looking at him, with all of his tattoos and brooding, chiseled face, but he’s got a heart of gold. Evidence being his dream job is to be a teacher, and he has gone back to school, pursuing a degree in high school education. He’ll make a hell of a teacher.
“My brother,” I answer Will’s question.
He laughs. “I thought there was a noticeable absence of Armani cologne in the air this morning.”
Shirley, who also knows Will’s order by heart, places a coffee in front of him. She wordlessly slides over a little dish of half-and-half pods and the glass sugar dispenser.
He cuts me and Noah a dirty look as his butterfly-tattooed hand reaches for the sugar. “Don’t,” he warns because he’s always felt insecure about his dislike of black coffee.
Noah raises his palms. “You’re touchy about your weak-ass coffee for no reason. We’ve never said a damn thing about it.”
“You just did! You called it weak.” Will looks distraught.
“It is weak, though,” says Noah.
“It’senhanced.”
I squint at him. “Is it, though?”
Another voice enters the mix from behind the three of us. “Youneed to lean into it like me and start drinking lattes.” We glance over our shoulders to see Jack Bennett raise his paper cup from our local coffee shop: the Hot Bean. (I swear it really is a coffee shop.)
He nods toward the large corner booth. “Let’s sit at the table like civilized men.”
Noah grumbles something about intruding on his alone time as we stand, even though we all know he enjoys this as much as we do.
Once we’re all settled into the booth and Jack and Will have ordered food, the conversation turns back to me. “So how long will you get a break from Tommy?” The question comes from Will.
I shrug. “Not long enough now that he’s tossing his hat in the ring to date Madison.”
