As they shifted to work talk, something caught my attention. The creep who had been here a few days ago walked in, movingwith that familiar, off-putting confidence. Instinctively, the hair on my neck stood up, and a fierce protectiveness vibrated through my chest.
I watched him approach the counter and ask if she was working. The other barista’s tense expression made it clear he knew the guy and wasn’t a fan of him either.
“No, she’s off today,” he said much louder than necessary.
Hazel had briefly stepped inside, but our booth gave me a clear view of the staff door. As soon as she came out and saw him, she quickly retreated.
Suddenly, it hit me. She was actually hiding from this guy.
The place was packed, so he hadn’t noticed her. He ordered his coffee and left. The barista handled the line alone for a while, allowing Hazel to stay inside, then knocked on the door to let her know it was safe to come out.
What the hell was this guy’s problem?
“Hey, let’s go?” Ethan said, oblivious to what had just happened behind him.
“Yeah, give me a sec,” I replied, grabbing a napkin. I scribbled a quick note and headed to the counter. Hazel was still in the back, but I knew from her previous conversation with Thomas that she trusted him. He was clearly on her side.
“Can you give this to Hazel for me?” I asked quietly, handing him the napkin. Thomas glanced at me, then at the note, and gave a small nod.
We walked out, and just as I passed the front window, Hazel stepped outside, her eyes catching mine with a flicker of surprise.
7
Luke
The week passed without much excitement. I stayed focused, refining our sales strategy, polishing the pitch for Williams, exploring new angles, partners, and ways to better connect with our audience. All while trying to avoid dwelling on the other idea that Ethan and Alex kept pushing.
I had to admit, it was a solid idea. Matthew Watson had over 2 million followers, was active on social media, and taught at a university, giving us the educational angle. It would probably require extra resources, but it was annoyingly perfect.
An hour later, we met with Williams to discuss the plans. We reviewed our shortlist and outlined the strategy. Williams asked a few questions occasionally but seemed deep in thought.
“These are solid options,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “Keep thinking. Reach out and gauge interest,” he added, closing the meeting. None of the options felt quite right, and I sensed Williams felt the same.
Even with all the formalities, I’ve always seen Williams as a father figure. His steady guidance earned my deep respect, fueling a drive to make him proud. Try harder. Be better.
I hadn’t been in the right headspace these past few days. Even though I was excited about the project, my mind kept drifting back to the guy at the coffee shop and Hazel. How she smiled when talking about her college years. Was she okay? Was she safe? Did she see my note?
I reminded myself that no one could hear my thoughts. Just because they existed didn’t make them real—a lesson my therapist taught me during my anxiety-filled teen years. Still, I pictured Hazel joining our trip. It could be nice. Everyone elsewas paired off, and maybe then the girls would finally stop guilt-tripping me. And Hazel could help with the language, too.
Lately, she seemed to live at O’Riley’s. She was there mornings and evenings, even when I passed by during my late runs, even though I hated running. Always working, never alone. That eased the urge to find an excuse to talk to her.
Tuesday evening, I passed O’Riley’s and saw Hazel behind the counter. I’d seen her that same morning. My chest tightened at the sight of her.
I made a split-second decision, and before I knew it, the doorbell rang as I stepped into the coffee shop. She didn’t notice me right away, but I noticed her. Tiredness in her movements, the dark rings under her eyes. She looked completely drained.
“Good evening, milady,” I tried to lighten the mood with the liquid courage coursing through my bloodstream.
“Hi,” she replied with a smile, but her eyes told a different story.
“Isn’t it a bit late for coffee?”
“I just saw the lights on and came in. Didn’t you work this morning, too?”
“Yeah, well... girl’s gotta eat,” she joked.
It didn’t feel funny to me.
“You should rest more. Or maybe take a vacation,” I added quietly.
