I check myself in the rearview mirror, running a hand through my hair before catching myself. "Get it together, Slade," I mutter.
The folder with our catering requirements sits on the passenger seat. I grab it, along with my phone, and head toward the café entrance with what I hope passes for casual confidence. The morning rush seems to have died down, with only a few tables occupied.
I spot Sadie the moment I walk in. She's behind the counter, head bent over paperwork, a pen tucked behind her ear. She hasn't noticed me yet, and for a second I just take her in, the focused furrow between her brows, the way she tucks a loose strand of hair back without looking up.
"Can I help you?"
The voice stops me cold. Not Sadie's voice. This one is sharper, more direct. I turn to find Rowan blocking my path, arms crossed over her chest. Her expression is neutral, but her eyes are anything but friendly as she looks me up and down.
"Morning," I say with an easy smile. "I'm here to set up a catering order."
"Interesting." She doesn't move. "Because yesterday you were here for coffee. And the day before that. And the day before that."
I hold up the folder like evidence. " Multitasking. It's a gift."
"Is it?" Rowan steps closer, lowering her voice. She doesn't smile back. But something in her posture shifts a degree or two, like she’s analyzing me. "You always personally handle catering for your company?" she asks.
"Only when the stakes are high enough." I hold her gaze. "I take my board meetings seriously."
"And my sister?"
Direct. I like it.
"I take her seriously too," I say. Same easy tone. Nothing to hide. "Which is why I’m placing a catering order instead of asking her to dinner."
Rowan studies me for another long beat. Then, almost imperceptibly, her chin dips.
From the corner of my eye, I notice Sadie watching us, her expression unreadable, body tense like she's ready to intervene.
"And it has nothing to do with the fact you always show up when Sadie’s on the counter?"
I let my gaze linger on Sadie, just enough to make the point. "Your sister’s got the only coffee worth drinking in this town. But I’m not here just for the caffeine."
Rowan’s mouth twitches. "So what is it?"
I don’t look away. "Like a side, a very important catering order for a very important meeting."
She studies me, not missing the subtext.
"As long as you’re not wasting her time," Rowan says.
I lean in. "If I ever get her time, I won’t waste a second."
Rowan studies me a moment longer, then glances back at Sadie, who quickly pretends to be absorbed in her paperwork again.
"You know she's got a lot on her plate, right?" Rowan asks, quieter now.
"I've noticed," I say, dropping the charm for a moment of honesty. "I'm not here to complicate things."
"Everyone complicates things," Rowan replies. "It's just a question of whether it's worth it."
Behind her, I see Sadie set down her pen, shoulders tight. She's definitely listening now, though trying not to show it.
"Look," I say, meeting Rowan's eyes. "I just want to place a catering order. If Sadie's too busy, I'm happy to work with you or anyone else."
Something in my tone must pass whatever test Rowan's running, because her stance relaxes slightly.
"Fine," she says, stepping aside. "But I'll be watching you, Slade."
