I’d won the girl over with my charm, my voice, and my newfound commitment to her son. Now I needed to dig deep. Make her see that I was a keeper. That I would do anything for her.
I looked up at the sign and sighed.
“Okay, I’m here,” I said into the phone.
“Good. Now go inside,” Grace replied.
“Is there any other way?”
“Quinn, we talked about this. You’re Goldilocks eating the baby bear’s porridge. We’re not going for too hot or too cold. We’re going for just right. You can’t buy her a car—too hot. You can’t buy her a gumball—too cold. But you can buy her the perfect cup of Starbuck’s joe, now, can’t you?”
“I could, but… you know my rule, Grace. I’ve never stepped inside a Starbucks. It’s a personal decision.”
“I know. But just think how romantic it is to shun your stupid, anti-elitist posturing for the girl you love.”
“Love is a strong word. I like…lots and lots.”
“Whatever. Just go inside, Quinn. I don’t have all day.”
I reached for the door before an alternative popped into my head. “Why can’t I just get her donuts?”
Grace groaned. “It’s like I’m working with an amateur. Listen, Quinn. Donuts are for well-established relationships. They say, ‘I love you so much I don’t care about your ever-expanding waistline.’ Elliott and I have been together for five months now, and I’d nail him in the nuts if he brought me home an apple fritter.”
“Jesus Christ. Who makes these rules?” I grumbled.
“Inside now!” she insisted.
“Fine. I’m hanging up and going in.”
“Is that”—she startled—“the best choice here, Quinn? Do you even know the difference between a grande and a venti, or that a tall is actually a small?”
My head spun with all the information, but one thing was for sure, having Grace in my ear would not help my rising heart rate levels.
“I don’t know any of this, but I’m a grown man. I can figure out a Starbuck’s menu. I’ll call if I need you.”
I could hear her begging for me to reconsider as I hit the red button on my phone. She was being ridiculous. I could do this on my own, and in return, I would wow Jess with my thoughtfulness.
I opened the trendy doors and took my place in line. Grace was right; I had no idea how or what to order. All I knew was to avoid donuts at all costs.
The guy in front of me stepped up to the register. “Yeah, I’d like a venti soy quadruple shot latte with no foam.”
I struggled to keep my eye roll to myself. This guy was why I avoided this place like the plague—these self-righteous hipsters.We get it, dude. You’re extremely important. Now why don’t you go save the world on your own time?
“I can take your order over here,” a barista said, the cheery smile on her face fading fast as she saw me approach. It was clear she recognized me. “Oh, you’re… wow… okay… what can I get for you?”
“I’m a virgin.”
“I see.” Her smile instantly returned. “You’ve come to the right register.”
“I knew I could count on you, Debbie,” I said, snagging her name from the tag on her apron. “I’m looking for the perfect drink to bring to my… let’s just say, experienced… girlfriend.”
She held up a hand. “Say no more. I know what you need. There’s the vanilla latte with toasted white mochaandvanilla sweet cold foam. Total crowd pleaser, that one. Or if she’s feeling a little frisky, she might prefer the non-fat, two-pump, peppermint frappuccino topped with double whip and cocoa powder.”
I was momentarily stunned with the liquid monstrosities she was suggesting. “No, I think you misunderstood me, Debbie. My girlfriend is a real woman, not Mrs. Claus.”
We had a good chuckle together over that. Were we bonding? I think we were.
“Oh, I know who this drink is for. Everyone does. And trust me, you can’t go wrong with either option. Besides, Jess doesn’t seem like a picky woman.”
