First, she had to make it to the coffee shop.
She slipped her hand into her pocket and clutched two carats of broken dreams. A symbol of love and trust, the ring was now nothing more than a shattered promise.
Recessed in the corner of her mind, a lingering doubt remained. Maybe Spencer had been right. Was it possible she was too damaged for love?
Enough!
Up ahead, the coffee house beckoned. Skye quickened her steps. Her breath coalesced in the frigid air and drifted away in the swirl of a passing breeze, disintegrating, like her relationship and the future it had promised.
The small coffee shop had been her refuge during a grueling residency and still was today. It was a place where she had gathered with a small group of fellow residents who were coffee lovers. Leading up to their board exams, they’d crammed everything they needed to know about medicine while indulging in their favorite addiction—caffeine. With her residency finished, she still stopped in every day to get her favorite piping hot beverage.
Of course, she’d met Spencer there, too.
Maybe she needed new dreams and a new future?
Chapter Two
As Skye approachedthe coffee shop, two black Hummers pulled up alongside the curb. The drivers jumped out and rushed around their respective vehicles to open the passenger doors. Five men spilled out, two from the lead vehicle and three from the rear, laughing and joking, shoving one another toward the entrance. Despite the frigid temperature, they wore nothing but T-shirts and beat-up blue jeans.
Two ladies with snow-white hair approached the shop as well. Unlike the men, the women were hunched in their heavy jackets with scarves wrapped tightly around their necks as they shivered against the cold. The men scampered around the women, yanked on the door, and filed inside. The last man, tall and slender, kept the door from slamming shut while the women ducked under his arm.
Skye hurried to catch the door and snagged her toe on the uneven sidewalk. The man steadied her, gripping her arm. He stared down, his eyes a piercing forest green.
“Well, hello, beautiful.” A cocksure smile brought a mischievous twinkle to those eyes.
Skye shrugged herself free. Spencer's betrayal was too fresh, and her emotions were too raw for her to engage in any sort of flirtation.
With an unfriendly glare, she said, “Thank you.”
Skye gripped her backpack and moved quickly over the threshold to the back of the line. The invigorating aroma of brewed coffee washed over her, and she breathed deep. The welcoming warmth dispelled her chill, and she shrugged off her backpack, unzipped her heavy coat, and draped it over her arm.
The men from the Hummers had taken over her favorite corner by the fire, filling the plush leather couches with their large frames as well as the one chair she generally claimed as her own. They sprawled out, like they owned the entire store, taking up more room than they needed, despite the morning rush.
The place was packed with a standing-room-only crowd. Couples and singles buried their noses in their cell phones and tablets. A few people worked on laptops. And, sprinkled here and there, the rare newspaper or book found itself clutched in the hands of a reader engrossed in the magic of the printed word.
Skye basked in the normalcy of the pleasant atmosphere and let her shoulders drop as she exhaled in a desperate effort to keep herself together.
She glanced at the clock hanging behind the barista station. If she got her cocoa and left immediately, she could take the early train. Her boss would appreciate her relieving him a few minutes early.
Boisterous laughter exploded from the corner by the fire. By their casual postures and open expressions the men were more than simply good friends. They teased one another in a nonstop barrage of verbal put-downs and animated conversation, acting like frat boys but appearing a few years older than the standard college crowd. The decibel level of that part of the room rose at least ten points.
They sported a variety of hairstyles from a close-cut buzz to rocker-style long hair. One with curly dark hair caught her staring and winked. She couldn’t see the one who had held the door.
The elderly women moved to the front of the line, and Skye shuffled behind them.
One of the women spoke, and her jowls wobbled with her shaky enunciation. “Frieda, can you see the menu? I don’t want any of that fancy stuff.”
Her friend obliged and read the drink choices out loud.
Skye waited for the women to navigate the menu, and her thoughts turned to Spencer's clenching ass while he pumped into the unknown woman sprawled on his bed, the same bed where he’d made love to Skye the night before. An upwelling of indignation surged forth, seeking an outlet, but she found none.
The barista called out a name, something Skye didn’t catch, and placed a cup on the counter. The man who’d held the door claimed the steaming beverage and returned to his friends as the two older women completed their order. They settled the bill after arguing over whose turn it was to pay.
Skye took a step forward as they moved off, still twittering about the bill.
The barista called out, “Bent, Bash, Spike, and Noodles,” and placed four cups on the counter.
Odd names. Maybe they were in a fraternity?
