The man behind her stepped up in line, forcing Jay to squeeze out of the way and off to the side with a little hop before he could press up against her. Ugh. She felt a flicker of impatience and unease, which she quickly suppressed, knowing that if either showed up on her face it would be worse. She studied the sparse remnants in the pastry case instead, keeping an ear out for her order.
She heard the man pay, noting that he didn’t say thanks.Jerk, she thought, her frown deepening when he approached to join her at the case. There was something familiar about the way he held himself. She stiffened and pulled out her phone.
There were no good reasons that she would remember a man of her stepfather’s age.
“Are you a fan of sweets?” he asked, looking at her boldly.
“No, not really. My boss is.”
“Oh? Where do you work?”
Little alarm bells went off in her head. She’d heard this line of questioning too many times before when listening to how men talked to her mother.
“Not that far,” she said evasively. “I’m just doing a coffee run.”
Tweed Creep smiled. “My wife doesn’t drink the stuff. Doesn’t see the need to get a coffee machine, either. I have to sneak out of the house to get my fix.”
Jay smiled tightly, doubting if there even was a wife. She hadn’t missed the once-over he’d given her in the reflection of the glass case when he thought she couldn’t see, or the casual way he’d fished for her place of work.
“Enjoy.” She kept her tone brisk. Not friendly but not annoyed, either. Men seemed to take both of those things as invitation. In the corner of her eye, she could see her order being placed in one of those drinks carriers and hurried over, waving her receipt before they could call out the name that was on her credit card. “That’s mine! Thank you.”
She slid a tip into their jar as she hurried out, clutching the carrier to her chest. The man wasn’t following—yes, she’d checked—but her heart was still going a mile a minute, the way it did whenever she thought of Damon.
Maybe you’ve forgotten how to talk to people, that voice that sounded like her mother said.All you do is hang around with Nicholas, and he’s not exactly Mr. Social.
And that was true. But after spending seventeen years traumatized by her stepfather’s attempted grooming, Jay had learned to trust her gut whenever her gut said “run.”
She sagged into the office, giving a tired nod to the receptionist as she flashed her lanyard. “Thanks, Jay,” Arthur said, when she handed him his coffee. “You’re an angel.”
(pure little angel)
Setting her shoulders, she walked down the hall to Nick’s door. It was open for once, but everyone was giving it—and him—a wide berth.
He looked up when her shadow fell over his desk, and that stern glare melted into a slight half-smile when he saw that it was her. Turning sideways in his chair, he propped one arm up on the desk to lean on his chin.
“And what can I do foryou, Ms. Varens?”
She found herself looking at his fingers drumming on the armrest for a beat too long. “I brought you a coffee,” she said stiffly. “It’s half-chocolate, all sugar. You’ll love it.”
Nicholas blinked.
Nudging aside his empty mug, she placed the cup on his desk. Some of the whipped cream had melted on the walk over and the sprinkles had made it a runny rainbow mess, but he looked at it with the same bewildered expression he’d given her when she had brought him the cupcake from Just Avocados.
“Thank you, Jay.”
That was when it clicked—the man, the one from the coffee shop. Tweed Creep. He’d been the photographer at the farmer’s market—the one she’d seen while buying the cake.
She hadn’t recognized him without the bulky camera around his neck. Maybe his interest in her hadn’t been prurient, after all.
Nicholas cleared his throat. His eyebrows were raised. “Was there something else?”
“Yeah.” Jay bent towards his neck, and he sucked in an anticipatory breath that made the seams of his suit audibly strain around his shoulders. “Wash your disgusting mug before it gets mold in it,” she whispered in his ear, before taking a quick step back. “Enjoy the coffee.”
She walked back to her desk with a swing in her step, feeling his eyes hot on her back. Annica stared at her with obviousjudgement and Jay, uncharitably, found herself thinking,Oh, go cry to your sad little group chat.
Her phone buzzed. She glanced up at the mezzanine where Nicholas was leisurely sipping his coffee in a way that looked downright indecent.
It tastes almost as sweet as you will later.
