AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Now felt like a weird time to bring it up. We’d gone on this long, so wouldn’t it be best to keep trucking as we were?
But I was jumping to conclusions. No need to freak out. So I kept my response simple.
What’s up?
Goldie: Coffee at Marlo’s? Like…now?
Strange.
I’ll see you there.
Was this about the Paul thing? Talking about that would only make it more embarrassing. Or was this about Dallas wearing a shirt with a half-naked woman on it to school last week? To be fair, he was wearing a rain jacket over it when we left, so I didn’t even see it. It was mine, yes, from my college days, back when Marigold and I both worked at a bar and saved couch change for gas money. We’d found the shirt in the lockers after one of the bartenders quit and couldn’t stop laughing, so I’d put it on to make her smile.
The point was, I didn’t let my kid walk around looking like white trash most of the time. It was a rare occasion.
I glanced down at the tiny clock on my desktop. 10:07 a.m.
My desk was stacked with files, and my to-do list was a mile long. Melinda had been sending me one message after another with reminders to return phone calls. None of this typically bothered me. I thrived in chaos. But add Marigold into that mix, and I was beginning to sweat.
I ran a hand through my hair and scanned the city out my office window. I really didn’t have time for coffee with her. But if I didn’t go, my mind would race for hours and I’d get nothing done. It’d be more efficient to just go to get answers, then come back and focus.
And the truth was, I didn’t want to turn her down. If I did, I’d regret it later, when thoughts of the what-ifs would keep me up all night.
I turned to the small mirror hanging beside my office door and fixed the hair I’d just messed up, then straightened my tie.
I took two steps out and turned to Melinda, an angel sent to Earth wearing crocheted sweaters and equipped with tiny, glittery cat stickers. Melinda was the kind of older woman who made cinnamon rolls from scratch early in the morning but also knew how to wield a wooden spoon if those in her care didn’t act right.
“Oh, Liam. Did you see my messages?”
I cringed. Because in that moment, she assessed me, and understanding dawned on her face. She knew I was leaving the building.
“Qué demonios estás haciendo?”
I couldn’t speak a lick of Spanish, but I was an expert at reading Melinda’s body language and attitude, so I was pretty sure she’d asked me something along the lines of what do you think you’re doing?
“Twenty minutes. Tops?”
I didn’t need her permission. I was her boss, after all. But being the boss didn’t always mean I was in charge.
“Ay. Tops. Do not make me tell Mr. Mendil that you didn’t return his call on time due to an unruly bathroom trip.”
“I am not going to the bathroom.”
“That’s not what he will think.”
I groaned, frustration rushing through me and heating my blood. “Urgh, Melinda. Just tell everyone I’ll get with them during my lunch. Tell them it was an emergency.”
“An emergency, all right. Mmm.”
Ignoring her twisted sense of humor, I raced past her desk. It was a bright pink, which was an odd contrast to the building filled with gray and black. At the elevator bank, I frantically pressed the button in hopes of escaping before anyone else noticed.
I hadn’t been to Marlo’s in forever. It was kind of Luke and Layla’s place, and the last time I’d stepped foot inside the shop, I was with Luke. He’d insisted on stopping to get his wife an apple cider donut. Now that I was sitting here, waiting for Marigold to walk through the door, I wondered why I didn’t come more often.
The exposed brick walls showed the building’s true date. The ceilings were black and the floors were old school hardwoods. The smell of coffee brewing and the low buzz of conversation around me were comforting. I kept my attention trained on the glass door that opened onto a major street. People walked by, occasionally gawking at the place. It was hard not to. The building was so charming it had its own gravitational pull.
I took a sip of my coffee. Nutty, smokey, with a hint of cinnamon. It was a thousand times better than the watered-down k-pods at the office. I tapped my fingers against the white ceramic mug decorated with a tiny mouse fairy. That detail was one I hadn’t noticed until I sat down. Not that it bothered me. I was man enough to drink out of a mouse fairy mug.
But my nerves were getting the best of me. I couldn’t handle the suspense. Why couldn’t she have given me the gist via text? Even a strongly worded email would have been preferable to this.
