It’s a question that burns inside me the rest of the walk.
When we enter the coffee house, a few heads turn before the people go back to their conversations. I think back to our lunch at Donovan’s when I felt like I was an exotic fish in an aquarium of guppies. At least people aren’t outright staring today. Are they getting used to seeing me? The thought makes me uncomfortable. What if someone comes searching for me and I’m no longer a stranger?
A man greets Carter from across the shop. A woman waves at him, then glares at me.Glares. As in Ifeelit. It’s a cold, hostile, prolonged stare of utter disdain.
Oh, great. It’s the woman from the carpool line last week. And, crap, she’s walking over.
She looks me up and down, sneering like I shouldn’t be here. And like I definitely shouldn’t be here with Carter. Then her face does a complete one-eighty when she pastes on a massive smile and practically bats her lashes at him.
“Carter,” she says breathily. “Nice to see you.” Her brow raises. “Still giving them a ride?”
I don’t miss the absolute deadpan sarcasm in her voice.
“Actually, Carolyn, we walked here.”
“We?”
Another woman comes over. She’s stunning. Large, beautiful eyes. Dazzling smile. Make-up done to perfection. The silky hair cascading over her shoulders makes me subconsciously run a hand through mine, trying to remember if I brushed it this morning before setting Amelia up to paint.
I’m beginning to get the feeling Carter is seen as somewhat of a catch around here. Which probably makes me enemy number one right now. I steel myself for the once-over I anticipate and remind myself that this is temporary, and I don’t have to impress anyone.
“Here’s your order, Carolyn,” the beautiful woman says. “Will there be anything else?”
Instead of focusing her attention on me, the woman stares at Carolyn until Carolyn simply grabs her order and walks away. Then she turns to me and smiles. “You must be the Kenna I’ve been hearing about.” She looks at Amelia. “And you must be Amelia.”
I look at Carter, questions in my eyes that can’t adequately express the ones swirling in my mind.
“This is Ava,” he says. “She owns this place. She’s married to my best friend.”
Oh, that explains it.
But wait, that means he’s been talking to his best friend about me? My heartbeat speeds up a bit.
“I saw you in here last week,” Ava says. “I wondered who you were, but I had no idea at the time that you were the mystery girl.”
“Mystery girl?” I scowl at Carter.
“I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about.” He shoots Ava a traitorous glance.
Ava laughs. “And you, little lady,” she says to Amelia. “I hear you want to meet baby Jordan.”
Amelia claps. “Yes!”
“Right this way.” Ava escorts us behind the counter, through the back, and into an office, where Bug is holding a baby.
“Bug?” I ask. “You work here?”
She looks up. “Oh, hey, guys. Yeah.”
“She’s been a godsend,” Ava says. “She not only helps out front, but back here with Jordan.” She walks over and picks up her daughter. “I’ve got her now. Thanks, Bug.”
“I seesometeenagers get up early,” I say, teasing Carter.
“Oh, he’ll get up early for work.”
I raise a curious brow. “Christian has a job?”
“He helps man the desk at the shop. Mostly in the summer. Occasionally on Saturday mornings.”
