“Hang in there, Birdie.” They handed me my receipt. “You’re order number 35. We’ll get that up for you in just a bit.”
As I took a seat at a hand-painted table by the window, I pulled out my phone and sent off a text to my best friend, Sam.
Can you stop by the bar after work tonight?
Sam was a lawyer; surely she would know what to do. In the meantime, I opened a search tab, figuring I better startlooking at apartment listings. It had taken me ages to find my little studio, and I knew the current economy wasn’t going to make it any easier to find a new place in my price range.
“Order 35!”
I distractedly dodged the other customers, grabbed my order from the counter, and headed back to my seat. I took a bite from my sandwich, the yolk of the over-easy egg bursting just the way I liked it, before I took a sip from the cardboard cup.
Oh, hell no, that is not mine.
Instead of the sweet, mellow flavor of vanilla and frothed oat milk, I was met with…oh, that was an americano. Absolutely not.
I sighed and made my way back up to the counter, where Chuck had just finished taking a customer’s order. “Hey, I think there was some mix up back there, this definitely isn’t my drink.”
A brusque voice just behind me spoke. “You have my drink, I believe.”
I turned toward the voice and was struck speechless.
I was never the type to be lost for words, especially by a guy. I had always been confident and easily brushed off intimidation or embarrassment. But this man.Damn.
He was tall—surely a foot taller than my five-foot-four—and breathtakingly handsome. This was the type of guy you would find on the cover of a romance novel or holding a puppy in a firefighter calendar. His eyes, circled in wire-rimmed glasses, were a shade of bright blue I’d once seen on the Aegean Sea. His dark beard was grown in just enough to be full without being out of control, the skin above it golden in the morning’s sunshine. He was standing close enough for me to notice that he smelled like pine and mint.
I tore my eyes from Tall and Handsome’s face to look at thedrink he was holding, the nameBirdieclearly written across the cup.
“Well, yeah. Unless your name is also Birdie, which I somehow doubt,” I snarked, glancing over his perfectly muscular form, “that would be mine. So why, exactly, did you take a drink that had someone else’s name on it?”
Tall and Handsome raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I was nearly bowled over by a distracted crazy woman who grabbed what was apparentlynother order either. Honestly, this is why I visit New York as infrequently as possible.”
My face flushed. I had been so in my head about the eviction that I hadn’t even noticed this guy, much less realized that I had nearly run into him.
On a normal day, I would have apologized for my rudeness. But today? Today was not that day.
“Well, how unfortunate for wherever you live to have you as a resident.” My voice dripped with disdain. Regardless of how handsome this man was, he was about to learn that hell hath no fury like a pissed-off woman.
Tall and Handsome snorted. “Could say the same about you for New York City.”
Chuck cleared their throat, glancing back and forth between me and the unbearable man beside me.
I snatched my drink from Tall and Handsome and handed both cups to Chuck, shaking my head. “Sorry, Chuck. Can you have them remake my latte?”
“Of course, Birdie,” they replied, taking the cup. “Another vanilla latte with oat milk coming right up. Is your sandwich okay? Is the egg runny enough for you?”
“Yes, the sandwich is great.”
“Runny yolks, huh? Figures,” Tall and Handsome muttered as Chuck disappeared behind the counter.
“Excuse me?” I hissed, turning on him. “Now you have opinions on my sandwich?”
He shrugged. “Bagels are meant to be sweet. Just like coffee is meant to be black. And eggs should definitely never be runny.”
I blinked.This man is unhinged.“I don’t even know where to start with that.”
He shrugged again. “You just seem like you’re a little worked up, I thought maybe goading you into a debate might help you blow off some steam.”
The absolute fucking nerve of this guy!“I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need to debate you about bagels—which, for the record, can absolutely be savory and make the best breakfast sandwiches. With runny eggs. And you know what? The vanilla lattes here are a work of fucking art. So go ride off on your high horse back to wherever you came from, okay?”
