He narrows his eyes, crosses his arms and cocks his head to say, “No.”
“Yes!” I say, panting.
After a beat he says, “Let’s negotiate.” I roll my eyes and shake my head. Way too damn tired for this. “Let me come in for coffee.”
I lock eyes with him.Ha! That’s right! Comet’s coffee is trash! Serves you right!I fight a smirk and say nothing. He can do all the talking, I won’t budge. He’s moving off this street. Tomorrow.
“I’m not moving,” he says, like he can read my thoughts. I take a deep breath. He goes on, “Let me come in for coffee and breakfast this week while I’m here and I’ll consider finding another rental.”
Consider?
He tracks the question on my face. “That’s right. All you have to do islet me be a paying customerand I’ll think about the hassle of moving again. Maybe.”
I snort. It’s not hassle for him to do anything. He’s a billionaire. He can make his own stupid coffee. Probably in a personal Bosch machine I can’t even afford for the store!
“Final offer,” he says.
“No,” I reply. His eyebrows shoot up into his sweaty dark hair and I go on, “I don’t want you in the store. Stay here, be rude, say whatever you wantto me.But your weirdmusic,” I use air quotes, then point to my house, “is keeping up a sick old man in there.”
His head jerks back slightly, “Your…father? You live with your father.”
“And Stuart,” I yawn.
“Listen,” he starts, clearly shifting back into negotiation mode. Which I do not have time for.
I blurt out, “And none of the three of us can sleep right now and we just got into bed and I have to be up at 3:30 so just shut up and be nice for once in your life!”
Over it, I turn and stalk back toward my own yard.
“Wait, we haven’t agreed on our terms,” he tries. I keep moving. He calls, louder, “If I agree to use headphones, can Ihave your coffee?”
I lift my hand and flip him off.
“Still unclear,” he says, though it sounds like he’s almost smiling.
I lift my other hand and go for the double bird.
Clear enough for you?I don’t say out loud.
He should agree to headphones to be a decent human being! Ugh! I leave my hands up the whole way to my door because he betternottry to come back into my store. Seriously.
CHAPTER 9
Aiden
“You’re not serious! Get back in there and try again,” I say, exasperated.
“I’m here for your safety, not your errands,” Renaldo grouses back.
I huff, “Everyone is unsafe if I’m not properly caffeinated.”
“You had a three thousand dollar espresso machine delivered yesterday.”
“And yet the liquid it produces tastes like utter trash in comparison.”
He turns to look at me from the front seat, “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you made fun of her town and promised to turn her shop into asphalt.”
“Hmph,” is all I can reply.
