She nods. “You know me too well.”
That’s the thing about living in a small town. Everyone has a usual.
The café hums with quiet conversations and clinking mugs. Sunlight spills through the big front windows, warming the dark wooden floors. The place smells like coffee, vanilla, and buttery scents drifting in from the kitchen.
Brie Sullivan pushes through the swinging doors from the back with a tray of blueberry muffins, steam still rising from them. She looks exactly like someone who wakes up before the sun for a living. Her dark hair is tied up in a messy bun, there is flour dusted across the front of her apron, and she has the satisfied expression of someone who has already accomplished something before most people have even poured their first cup of coffee.
“Fresh batch,” she says, sliding the tray onto the counter.
The smell alone could probably bring half the town through the door.
“You’re my favorite person,” Maddie declares dramatically from behind the espresso machine.
Maddie Carter is leaning against the counter like she hasn’t been awake since six this morning pulling shots for half the town. Her blond hair is in a loose braid over one shoulder, and she’s watching the muffins like they might disappear if she blinks.
“You said that to me yesterday,” Brie says, grinning.
“Yesterday you made cinnamon buns, today it’s blueberry muffins. My loyalty shifts accordingly,” Maddie says.
I laugh as I finish Mrs. Calloway’s latte and slide it across the counter.
“Careful,” I tell Brie. “If Maddie eats any more pastries, she’s going to fall asleep during the lunch rush; that sugar crash is going to catch up.”
“Worth it,” Maddie replies, grabbing a muffin anyway.
“Maddie, why don’t you take a little break? I have things under control, and I have to leave soon anyway for a meeting, so you’ll be by yourself for a bit.”
“Sweet, thanks, Vi,” she says, pouring herself a black coffee and heading for the kitchen.
The bell over the door chimes again, and two more customers come in.
Mondays are always busy. But my eyes keep drifting to the clock on the wall: 11:42am.
Everett and I are supposed to meet at the theater at noon.
Just thinking his name sends a strange flutter through my chest.
It’s ridiculous, really. I have known Everett Callahan most of my life. Lavender Creek isn’t big enough for people to remain strangers for long.
But knowing someone when you’re kids and knowing them as adults are two very different things. And lately, every time I see him, something feels different.
Something warm, something easy. Which is exactly why it makes me nervous.
I pour another coffee, trying to ignore the way my thoughts keep drifting back to him. The way he laughed with my sisters, the way he danced with me at the bar, like the rest of the room didn’t exist.
The way he looks at me is like he’s truly happy I am there. I shake the thought away and wipe down the counter. Trusting someone again isn’t something that happens overnight. Not after Ryan, but Everett makes it feel possible.
“Okay,” Maddie says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You haven’t stopped looking at that clock all morning.”
Ignoring her, I look at the clock again. “I have a meeting; I don’t want to be late,” I say in a defensive teasing way.
Maddie raises an eyebrow. “At the theater?”
“Yes,” I reply.
Maddie smirks and I give her a look.
Brie just quietly slides more pastries into the display case like she is enjoying this way too much.
