“No, they’ve already left. This is some lady from the city. She was a bit put out that we don’t serve cappuccinos.”
I have a bad feeling about this. I turn the corner, and Lucinda Steele waves at me with a smile as sincere as that of a pageant queen.
“Ellie!” she calls. I cringe at her use of my nickname. “So nice to see you again! How have things been?” she asks in a sickly sweet voice.
“Busy,” I say tersely.
“So I see. Can you imagine what it will be like when we fixthis place up and revamp the menu?”
I consider telling her that people drive hundreds of miles to have our famous cinnamon rolls—not to mention my mom’s garlic burgers. But Lucinda doesn’t merit the effort of contradiction.
“I see you already have a coffee. Can I get you anything else?”
“Is anything here worth eating?”
I have no idea how to answer this. My good mood is quickly evaporating, and I just stare at her.
“Fine,” Lucinda huffs, “just bring me a biscuit and that homemade jam.”
“Coming right up.” I put my notepad back in my apron right next to Edward’s letter and turn to walk away.
“Wait, Ellie!” I turn back. “Has Edward told you what he’s going to do?
“I haven’t seen him for a while.”
“That’s odd. I thought you were an item.”
“Nope.”
When I return with her biscuit, she jumps back in.
“You know he’s ruining his whole career for you. You can’t let him do that.”
“So you’ve told me. In your many emails. This really isn’t the place for this conversation,” I say through gritted teeth.
“What else can I do? You don’t take my calls or answer those emails.”
“There is no need for this conversation at all. I’m not dating Edward. I have no sway with him. And I agree with you—he should kick us out. Though I don’t think he should sell Bumble Cottage.”
“And you really didn’t see him last weekend? I heard that you two renewed your friendship.” I swear this woman could read the back of the cereal box and somehow imbue it withinnuendo.
“Nope, not at all.”
“That certainly makes things easier. Because if this deal doesn’t go through, he’ll lose his job.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say with much more nonchalance than I feel, “but as things stand, I’m probably going to lose my job either way.” I strut off, proud of myself for speaking my mind. How can Edward work for this woman? She must know that pestering me like this doesn’t help her cause. The only reason to visit me like this is to annoy me.
She has more to say to me when I bring her the bill.
“You obviously haven’t thought this through. I’m offering your man millions of dollars. It’s a no-brainer.”
“Once again, Edward isnotmy man,” I say.
“Really? Huh.” And then a wicked gleam lights her eyes. “That’s right... I forgot—he has a girlfriend.”
For the first time in twelve years of working in the cafe, I accidentally drop something. The metal pitcher slips out of my hand and lands on Lucinda’s table, dousing her in ice cold water.
Elinor was then at liberty to think and be wretched. —Sense and Sensibility
