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Chapter 12
Cami got to the coffee shop at a little before a quarter to six, giving her roughly fifteen minutes to get everything ready before she opened. She usually liked at least a half hour, but she’d overslept and barely had enough time to shower. She also had to forgo her workout, but she could manage to squeeze it in after work today.
She hurried through the shop, dropping her bag in the back room and restocking the cups and lids. She refilled the sugars, milks, and stirrers. She took a breath and glanced around with five minutes to spare. How she pulled it off, she had no idea, but she wasn’t about to question it.
The shop wasn’t nearly as bright as usual and she glanced up and spotted the culprit. One of the lightbulbs had gone out. It had been dim for a few days, and she’d been meaning to change it but kept getting sidetracked. Now she didn’t have a choice.
Luckily, she had a spare bulb in the utility closet. She grabbed it and dragged a chair over to the light fixture. Once again, her shoes were completely inappropriate for what she was about to do, but at least they’d give her the extra couple of inches she needed.
She stood up onto the seat and balanced herself before unscrewing the bad bulb. Nowhere to put the bulb, she tucked it into the top of her tank top. She reached up and screwed the new bulb in with minimal effort.
“What the hell are you doing?” a voice boomed through the coffee shop.
She jumped at the sudden disturbance to the silence, and the chair rocked, her body swayed. She flung her arms out to catch herself, but her heel slipped, her foot twisted, and gravity took over. Her eyes landed on Enzo briefly before she fell back. The chair flew across the floor, and she hit the ground with a thump. The lightbulb popped out of her shirt, hitting the floor and shattering into a million pieces.
Hot searing pain radiated in her foot and her ankle. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of tears pushing their way to the surface and bit her lip in a sad attempt to divert the pain.
“Shit!” Enzo ran around the counter and came to a skidding halt at her side. “Are you okay?” he asked, and she punched him hard in the shoulder. He winced and looked at her with shock filling his blue eyes. “What the hell was that for?”
“Don’t you know not to startle someone who is standing on a chair?”
“Don’t you know you shouldn’t be teetering on a chair in high heels?”
“Excuse me, but I was doing just fine until you showed up.” She attempted to push herself up from the floor, but her ankle throbbed with the movement. She just needed an extra minute, and she’d be fine. Mind over matter, she reminded herself.
“Like the day with your flat tire.”
She fixated her eyes on his. “Again with the damn tire.” He seriously needed to let it go. It was a tire for crying out loud, and it’s not like she was driving around with a flat. There was nothing wrong with having a donut on the car.
“I’m just making a point.”
“And if you ask me, it’s just another sign proving you’re bad luck.”
He pointed to his chest. “Me?”
“Yeah you. And while I’m really enjoying sitting on the floor and arguing with you, I have a store to run, and glass to pick up.” She ignored the sharp ache in her ankle and managed to get to her feet, putting all the pressure on her right foot and avoiding the left at all costs.
“You’re hurt,” Enzo said.
“I twisted my ankle a little; it’s no big deal.”
“If it’s no big deal then let me see you walk.”
Her eyes narrowed right before they rolled upward. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“If you’re not hurt then show me.”
If all she had to do was prove to Enzo she was perfectly fine and he’d go away, then she could manage the pain for a few seconds. She took a deep breath and counted to three in her head. On three she stepped forward, putting weight on her toes then the heel of her shoe. Intense, piercing pain shot through her ankle, into her foot, and back up.
She swallowed the cry but couldn’t manage to swap her weight. Desperate for relief, her leg gave out. She prepared herself for another thump on the floor, but Enzo caught her, wrapping her safely in his arms.
“Stubborn.” With a shake of his head, he carried her to the chair that had flown across the floor and placed her down. He bent, taking her foot gently in his hand and examining. Her leg looked tiny in his palm.
The skin around her ankle was red and starting to swell. She would put some ice on it and be fine. It was her only option. She had a business to run.
“See? Nothing wrong with it.”
He barked out a laugh. “Nothing wrong with it? Your ankle is swollen.”
