Coffee Eyes and Little White Lies
Page 66
“That’s why you look like you licked all the red off your candy?”
That earned a snort out of Ali. Wren’s southernisms always managed to pull a laugh from her. They were equal parts ridiculous and charming. Over the last eight months, she’d gotten a full education in their meanings.
“Victoria wants to change the entire menu,” Ali explained, eyes scanning over the barrage of angry texts lighting up her phone. “I keep telling her no, which just makes her double down.”
“She throwin’ a hissy fit?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, bless her heart,” Wren’s voice dripped with syrupy sweetness. She dropped the facade, tone dropping to something far more frosty. “Block her.”
Leather groaned beneath her as she stood, leaving her phone facedown on the coffee table. Her feet dragged as she rounded the counter, already knowing she was behind on inventory. With a sigh, she clicked through the registers menu, only for the entire software to stall.
She jabbed at the mouse again. Then in rapid succession sent the cursor crashing against the edge of the screen.
“Are you kidding me?” Ali growled between clenched teeth.
“Hey, hey. Be nice to Bertha,” Wren said, batting her away from the mouse and register. Her chipped, dark glitter speckled nails skimmed across the frame of the monitor like it was some cranky old cat. “She can’t help it if she’s old and outdated.”
Ali shot the register the bird just as the door opened, the chime of the little bell announcing a new customer. In unison, she and Wren began their greeting.
“Welcome to Blend & Brew. What potion can we get started for you today?”
Ali looked up, her best customer-service smile plastered across her face, only to find Natasha stepping into the cozy shop, dark eyes sweeping over the space. The teal dress she wore hugged her every curve, the color popping coolly against the warm chestnut hue of her skin.
“Cute,” she said, gaze flicking toward them. “Did you come up with that yourself or is it company policy?”
Ali felt a little bubble of humor swell and float out of her in a soft chuckle. “Wren came up with it, actually.”
She nudged Wren with her elbow, proud of her friend’s creativity.
“Natasha, this is Wren. Wren, Natasha,” Ali stated, rushing through the introductions.
Natasha bobbed her head while Wren offered a wordless little wave of her hand.
“What are you doing here?” Ali asked.
Natasha set her bag on the counter and unzipped it, pulling out a small makeup-pouch. It was the first time she’d seen Natasha bare-faced and her skin was flawless, not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. Beautiful.
“I have court in a bit. I had to run into the office, but that didn’t take as long as expected. So, I thought I’d come put my face on and see if everything for the bridal shower is still good.”
“Apparently, Vicki is giving her grief,” Wren blurted, her tone a touch brighter than usual.
Ali caught it, the rose-colored hue warming Wren’s cheeks. A rare sight, as Wren preferred to make everyone else blush, hopeless flirt that she was. All the humor fell away in Natasha’s expression, going hard as she whipped out a compact mirror and a tube of eye liner.
“What’s she done?” Natasha asked, tone edged and precise as she angled the mirror.
Ali sighed, letting her head fall back as she groaned up at the ceiling, “She’s just grasping at straws. Wants to change a bunch of things last minute and is a little furious I’m not budging.”
“She’s…” Natasha trailed off as though searching for the right words as she carefully traced the rim of her eye in black, plush lips parted slightly.
“Not the sweetest cookie in the batch?” Wren supplied, her usual spark back in her azure eyes.
Natasha blinked, caught off guard but then she laughed, a rich, surprised sound that came from her toes. “Exactly! Though I’m pretty sure she’s laced with cyanide.”
“Oof,” Wren tsked, propping her chin in her hand when she rested her elbow on the counter, tracking the careful sweep of Natasha’s hand. “Better be careful. I hear that stuff is deadly.”
Natasha’s mouth curved, sharp and amused, as she finished lining her other eye. “Ironically, the case I’m assisting with today is a woman accused of poisoning her late husband with cyanide.”