Bram waits for me to pick a sandwich.
They both look amazing, but I’m not picky. I just take the one closest to me. It looks like grilled chicken with bacon and some sort of cheese.
He takes the one that looks to be shaved beef of some sort. “So tell me more about this grumpy neighbor of yours.”
“There’s nothing much to tell. What I really need is to find something around here to do.”
“Do? Like a job?”
I shake my head. “No.” Getting a job just feels like taking money away from someone who needs it. “I need to find somewhere to volunteer or do some charity work.”
“Charity work?”
“That isn’t a thing here, is it?” Oh, no.
He shakes his head. “It’s not really a thing anywhere except among the super-rich. Not that we don’t have people who volunteer or projects that support the arts or those in need. But it doesn’t work that way here. The community just gets together and makes things happen.”
Oh. Oh.
“Was it your ex or your family?” He takes a bite of his sandwich and waits for me to reply.
My family or my ex…the money. “Not the ex.”
Bram nods. “He couldn’t handle your money?”
If only it were that. “No. It turned out his intern could give him something I couldn’t.”
“A felony charge?” He somehow manages to keep a straight face when he says that.
“Almost. She’s barely legal.”
“Idiot.”
“I’m just glad it happened when it did and not twenty years from now.”
“Truer words have never been said. The longer these things last, the harder they are to break apart.”
The doors to the café open, and two men in leather jackets walk up to the counter.
“Never seen a biker before?” Bram must have followed my gaze.
“Nope. I wonder what it would be like to be married to one.”
“For a woman who’s sworn off marriage, that’s an odd thought.”
It really is. Not that they’re bad-looking men. “A friend of mine just married a biker. Well, more like a friend of a friend. And for the life of me, I don’t see how she fits with a biker.”
“You know, all old ladies don’t wear leather and chaps. Though we don’t complain when they do.”
We?
One of the bikers turns towards us. “Bram. I didn’t know you were coming for coffee—” He notices me. “Well, hello.” The biker nudges the guy standing next to him and walks over to meet us. “Tell me you’re Bram’s sister, even though I know he’s an only child.”
I just smile at the flirtatious man.
“My name’s Fly and this is my friend Bear. Ignore him, he might be taken.”
“For the seventh time, I am not dating The Cake Lady.”
