I pulled open the door. The little bell chimed overhead. The guy behind the counter was the same clean-cut, athletic-looking kid from yesterday. His name tag read Dillon.
I walked up and nodded at him. “Morning. Could I get an espresso? Double shot.”
He eyed me for a moment. I started to wonder if I had something on my face. But then he said, “Coming right up,” and turned to the machine.
While he made the coffee, I glanced around the shop. A few customers were scattered at tables, mostly older folks with newspapers and laptops. A fire flickered behind an iron grate. A couple of women perused the bookshelves.
No Piper.
I’d left her place early the morning after Thanksgiving, not wanting to bother her after she’d already done so much for me. I’d figured things between us were okay.
But when she’d seen me at the coffee shop yesterday, I’d caught her staring. And then she’d hidden like I was someone she needed to avoid.
The smart thing to do would be to steer clear of her. Give her space. Let her pretend Thanksgiving night had never happened.
But if I steered clear of everybody who had some kind of issue with me in Silver Ridge, I wouldn’t be able to walk down Main Street.
“Is Piper here today?” I asked.
Dillon’s shoulders stiffened. He finished pulling the second shot and poured it, then slid the cup across the counter with a scathing look. “She isn’t available right now. Did you need something?”
“Just wanted to say hello. Is that not allowed?”
“Depends on your intentions.” He put his hands on the counter, lowering his voice. “I know who you are. I know you’re trouble. Piper doesn’t need that.”
“Is that what she told you?”
A blush crept up his neck. “She didn’t have to.”
Seemed like he had a crush, and that was cute. I picked up the espresso and took a sip. “Thanks. Nice and strong.”
Dillon didn’t respond, just kept watching me like he was waiting for me to do something that would confirm whatever suspicions he had.
Whatever. Hardly the only person in town who didn’t like me. My own brother couldn’t stand me, so take a number, kid.
I left an overlarge tip, just to prove I could.
On my way toward the exit, something on the bulletin board caught my eye.
HOUSE FOR RENT, mixed-use zoning, perfect for commercial and/or residential. Lots of potential!
I stopped and read it again.Lots of potential. That meant it was probably a disaster, which, honestly, sounded about right for me. The price was definitely right. As in, cheap.
I pulled out my phone and typed the phone number into my messaging app.
Maybe it wouldn’t work out. Maybe the landlord would take one look at my background check and tell me to get lost. But I had to take the shot.
It was that, or let my little sister take over as my life coach. I wasn’t quite there yet.
After downing my espresso, I sent a quick text to the number for the rental.
Me
Hi, interested in the commercial/residential lease. Still available?
Unknown
Yep! Feel free to swing by in a couple hours. I’ll be there. I’ll text the address.
