Mia blinked. Bree must be having a bad day. “Um, I’ll have my usual. And a large hot cinnamon spice tea, please.”
Bree punched it in. “$10.42,” she said without making eye contact.
Mia handed over her rewards card and tried again. “It’s gorgeous outside. Busy day?”
“You could say that.”
Mia tucked a few bills into the tip jar.
After swiping her card Bree handed it back wordlessly and grabbed two cups, writing the orders on them.
The stranger behind her cleared her throat, and Mia moved down the counter.
Had she done something to offend Bree? Yesterday they’d chatted a quick minute, but Mia couldn’t remember about what. All the baristas were friendly. One of the reasons the Bean was her favorite shop.
Maybe Bree’s son had had a meltdown when she left him at day care again. Or maybe her mother’s dementia was getting worse. Mia said a quick prayer for the barista and moved down the line.
The espresso machine whirred loudly. Greta operated it with quick, efficient movements, her dark ponytail swinging behind her.
“Good morning, Greta,” Mia said after the machine went silent.
Greta’s gaze shot to Mia, and her face went hard. “Morning,” she finally said in a tight voice.
What in the world was going on? Mia glanced around at the other two busy baristas. Normally they all greeted her no matter how busy they were.
Greta set her drinks on the counter and went on to her next order.
“Thank you,” Mia said.
But Greta didn’t respond or even make eye contact.
Mia collected the drinks, a vague feeling of shame washing over her. She must’ve done something, but she couldn’t imagine what.
The shop was crowded, and she suddenly felt a little claustrophobic. She slipped past the line and out the door to the gated patio. It was a mild and sunny day, and heaven knew she could use a little sunshine.
What had gotten into her friendly neighborhood baristas? Maybe someone had gotten fired. She tried to remember if they’d been friendly with the other customers, but she hadn’t been paying attention. Or maybe it had something to do with her canceled wedding. But that news had broken months ago.
As she settled at a table for two near the sidewalk, her phone buzzed with a call. She pulled it from her pocket. Brooke.
“Don’t tell me you’re running late,” Mia said. “Because I’m pretty sure that’s never happened.”
“Where are you?”
Mia frowned at the intensity in her friend’s tone. “At the coffee shop where I’m supposed to be. Where are you?”
“Um, listen... change of plans. I’m picking you up. I’m just around the corner.”
“Ooo-kay... What’s going on, Brooke?”
“I’ll tell you when I get there. I can see the shop now. Come out to the curb.”
Mia stood, hooking her purse on her shoulder. “You’re being very cryptic.” She spotted Brooke’s white Toyota. “I see you. Be right there.”
Mia disconnected, grabbed their drinks, and made her way to the curb. She had a terrible feeling this day was actually going to get worse than she’d imagined.
two
Mia set the drinks in the cup holders as Brooke pulled out into traffic. A car behind them honked.
