“It’s just a little make-up,” she told him as she sat. “I do it every now and then to change things up.” There was no need for him to think she’d made the effort on his behalf.
His mouth twitched a little as he took the chair opposite hers.
Right. He knew she was full of shit.
“So, I haven’t ordered yet,” he told her, letting her off the hook. “I figured I’d wait until you got here, then I’d do it for both of us.”
“Just coffee. Black, please,” Petula told him.
His brows rose. “Seriously? This is the Bear’s Claw. You’re not going to indulge in one of their fantastic pastries or muffins?”
Shedidlove the establishment’s honey-dipped Danish, but the overly-large confections were always messy to eat, and she was trying to make a good impression.
“Umm… A plain donut?” she managed.
Before Julian could respond to that, a voice carried from across the shop.
“Bothswait! You’re early. And without boxes.” A male voice she knew well, met her ears. She looked up, and sure enough, the customer line had wound down and Nate was glancing from her to Julian then back again, a shit-eating grin on his lips. “You want your regular forheretoday, instead of to go?” he teased.
Petula wanted to groan. Nate was a great kid who had worked behind the counter for the past couple years, and knew exactly what she always ordered. Normally, it made her happy. But not today, dammit.
“Your regular?” Julian repeated, amusement causing his dimples to pop out.
Caught.
“Yeah,” she admitted with a shake of her head. “Black coffee and a honey-dipped Danish.”
Julian winked and walked to the counter. The place wasn’t that large, so she could hear him, clearly.
“Petula will have her regular, and I’ll have a?—”
“Espresso mocha-latté, with cinnamon and brown sugar sprinkles, with a corn muffin, toasted, slathered in butter. And… Petula, huh?” Nate sent a triumphant look over Julian’s shoulder, his eyes twinkling. The sassy barista had been trying to guess what the P stood for, since his very first day of work.
She heard Julian laugh.
“Yup. Petula.”
Great.Not that it was a big deal. She hoped. If word got out, it would be all over town before nightfall, and so much for maintaining any kind of anonymity.
“Nice call, Nate,” Julian continued. “I’ve only been around for a few weeks, and you already know exactly what I like,” Julian responded.
“That’s how I make the big bucks,” Nate joked back, giving Julian a wink before he got straight to work on their order.
As soon as it was up, Nate put their things on a tray, and Julian carried it back to the table after leaving him a big tip.
Maybe it did pay to suck up to the customers.
Julian pointed as he sat down. “That Danish looks good. I might have to try it sometime.”
“And miss out on all that butter?” Petula teased, amazed at the amount on his corn muffin. The thing was practically swimming.
“You’re right,” Julian responded, not the least bit embarrassed as he dipped his finger into a side-puddle, putting it up to his mouth to suck it clean. “Since I discovered this, I can’t start my day without one.” He picked the enormous thing up and took a huge, appreciative bite, also unconcerned when some of the oil dripped down his chin.
He chewed, swallowed, laughed, then picked up a napkin to mop himself off. “Sorry. I always make a mess.”
Petula narrowed her eyes. Was he doing this on purpose because he knew she was hesitant to cover her face in honey-dip?
Her guess was, yes.
