“Freckles.” He shook his head slightly and gestured for her to follow. In a nearby hallway, they found a janitor. William collected the supplies and insisted on cleaning the mess himself. “This’ll only take a second, then we’ll go get more.”
Lucy helped mop up the spill, checking the clock on the wall. She’d have to be quick about this coffee run. They had a national cut-in soon.
Outside, Main Street stirred as they walked toward the coffee house. The sun was up, shops had opened their doors, and more people milled about on the sidewalk. Lucy strove for a brisk pace, but William seemed in no hurry. Clearly, etiquette in Confluence involved waving and commenting on the weather to complete strangers.
“Hello again. And look, you brought a friend,” the cheerful barista chirped when they entered the shop.
“I had a little accident back at the station. I dropped the bag. Can you re-make the order?” Lucy asked quickly.
The coffee girl leaned toward William. “Would you like any extra sugar this morning?”
Seriously?
“I’m more of a honey guy.” He flashed his dimples. “Table sugar is too gritty.”
“And you’re not…gritty?” The woman batted her eyelashes at him.
He glanced at Lucy and held her stare. “Suppose I can be in the right circumstance.”
Well, huh. She felt those words in a very intimate place.
The barista banged a portafilter against the machine.
Lucy snapped back to the situation at hand and dug through her purse for her wallet. “This time make mine a large.” She jerked her head toward William. “And he’ll have an extra hot Americano with honey and a dash of cream.”
He stilled. The shocked expression on his face quickly turned blank.
Ugh. Speaking without thinking was becoming a dangerous habit.
She’d ordered the drink he used to send her to pick up daily for him in Florida. Back then she fetched anything he wanted. Not that she minded—except the blondes. He did have an exceptional fondness for groupies who used too much peroxide on their hair.
“I mean…” Lucy glanced between William and the barista.
He didn’t even blink. “Just cream.”
“So close.” Lucy’s smile faltered. “It’s a gift. I can look at someone and know how they take their caffeine. I’m a coffee savant.”
Coffee savant?
He raised an eyebrow at her as the bell over the door jingled.
A beautiful woman brushed past them. In her fifties by all appearances, except her weary brown eyes suggested she’d been around longer. They reflected a heck of a lot of life, and by the glimmer of worry, not all of it had been good. She wore a conservative blue, paisley dress, straight off Meryl Streep inThe Bridges of Madison County. The woman drew a sharp breath.
“William, you’re here,” she whispered in a thick Italian accent.
“Teresa… You look well. How’s Dad?” William said carefully.
The older woman blinked against watery eyes. So maybe Lucy wasn’t a coffee savant, but she was decent at reading a room. Vibrations pulsing through the little café were anything but peaceful.
William and Teresa stood there for a time, staring at each other before William turned back to the counter. His Adam’s apple bobbed vigorously. Lucy set her credit card on the counter, her eyes drinking in the scene before her. The barista had quieted while she finished the order, stopping to write a phone number on the sleeve of William’s cup. She reached for Lucy’s credit card, but William slipped his sleek gold card in its place. He slid Lucy’s card toward her hand, and his fingertips brushed against hers.
Curls of comforting warmth seeped through the dull ache of loneliness in her chest. She snatched her hand back, shoved the plastic card in her wallet, and reached for the coffee cup that had been placed on the counter for her.
Teresa’s longing gaze had never left William. He took the offered bag in one arm and his drink in the other hand.
“Your father and I… We would like you to come visit.” She reached for his arm as he opened the door for Lucy.
He shook his head. “Not a good idea. You know where things stand with Dad and me.”
