Page 4 of Quit Playing Games with My Heart

“He’s just doing his job,” Sam grumbled grudgingly, then took another sip of the coffee I’d made him. As if that drew his thoughts to me, once he swallowed, he glanced in my direction. “We’re going to be in trouble if we keep on going, business as usual,” he said.

“Yeah, something has to change to get people in here,” I agreed, wanting to move closer to him.

He took another drink, eyes fixed on me. I loved the way he looked at me, but it also filled me with all sorts of things that were incredibly inconvenient for me to be feeling for Samwise Meyers.

“I think you’re on to something,” Sam said at last.

“Great,” I grinned. “What am I on to?”

Sam met my grin with one of his own. “That if we want to bring in more traffic and money to the café, we’re going to have to do it outside of construction hours.”

“We’ve got open mic nights,” Diccon offered from the other end of the counter.

“We do,” Sam said. “But I think we’re going to need something else. We’re going to need a great idea that packs people in here and gets them to spend money.”

“That would be nice,” Diccon said.

“We can do it,” I told Sam with a smile. “We’ll think of something.”

I was certain we would, and if that something meant I could spend more time with Sam, showing him I was more than just his brother’s bestie and his employee, I was all for it.

CHAPTER 2

Sam

The only job I’d ever had, the only job I’d ever wanted to have, was working at Common Grounds. I’d started helping out after school, sweeping up and bussing tables, when I was in middle school, shortly after Mom and Dad opened the place. I’d worked more formally as a barista through high school, and as soon as I’d started taking business classes in college, Dad had put me to work on the café’s books and taught me everything he knew about the ins and outs of running a business.

I felt the weight of those lessons on my shoulders as I sat at the desk in the back office, staring at spreadsheets on the computer with a sense of impending dread in my gut.

“These numbers can’t be right,” I muttered to myself, rubbing the bottom half of my face as I frowned at the screen. I clicked to another spreadsheet, one with expenditures, then back to the one showing our income for the last month.

It didn’t matter how many promises Kyle Jameson had made about the construction next door not interfering with the café’s foot traffic or how diligently Diccon and his new boyfriend, Theo, had tried to find solutions that would make the interruptions to our traffic as minimal as possible. The facts were right there in front of me. Since construction had started, Common Grounds had seen a nearly forty percent drop in revenue.

I groaned and leaned back in my chair, gaze still fixed on the computer screen but not really seeing the dire figures there anymore. It could be argued that this wasn’t the end of the world. Construction on the shop next door was halfway done. The whole thing wouldn’t go on forever. We could make it through until everything was finished, and once the gourmet shop Jameson had apparently found to move into the new space was set up, it really could bring us more business.

But it all might be too little too late. We could sustain ourselves at these levels, but if we lost any more customers, if new people stopped finding us and giving us a shot, we might have to start letting non-family employees go.

My thoughts zipped straight to one particular non-family employee as soon as the uncomfortable idea of letting someone go snuck up on me. Every single person Common Grounds employed was irreplaceable, but there was one man who I would definitely miss if he had to go.

My gaze lost even more focus and warmth filled me as I thought about Brian Everton. Brian was a hard worker. He was dedicated to the café and our family. He was Diccon’s best friend, a cheerful sight to see each morning, and he exuded a sort of secret vulnerability that drew me in more than it should have.

I would never forget how worried and lost he’d looked when he first wandered into the café nearly three years ago, pale and thin, appealingly short, with cute, curly hair, asking about the “Help Wanted” sign Gilbert had put in the window just the day before. I’d interviewed him on the spot, and though he’d had no previous experience as a barista, something told me Brian needed the job more than any of the other applicants who had submitted fancier resumés. I’d had to argue a little with Gilbert to get him agree to hiring Brian, but it had been the best decision we’d made for the café in ages.

Whatever had put that vulnerable look on Brian’s face way back in the beginning, he’d never said. No one had ever asked him either. We’d just taken him in as part of the Common Grounds family and left it at that. I knew something had brought him from Pittsburgh to Philly, though, and it probably wasn’t great.

To be forced to turn him out now, and because of something as aggravating as not having the money to pay him, would be torture. I simply wouldn’t do it. But unless we found a way to increase the café’s revenue in the middle of the construction⁠—

My frustrating thoughts were cut short by a knock on the door, followed by Brian opening it before I could invite him in, which was pretty typical. Brian had never met a door he couldn’t barge right through.

“Hey, have you got a minute?” he asked, hazel eyes shining bright.

I smiled despite myself. “For you, always,” I said, softening the way I sat in the chair.

A second later, I caught myself, cleared my throat, and straightened. It would do exactly no one any good at all to go all soft and sentimental around Brian. Even if he was the walking embodiment of a golden retriever puppy that I felt responsible for caring for and cuddling.

I cleared my throat again. Under no circumstances should I be thinking about cuddling an employee who happened to be my brother’s best friend. Common Grounds had already had one major disaster a few years ago when one of our former shift managers, Matt, started dating one of the afternoon baristas, Melissa. I’d had to write an entire employee relationships policy after that whole thing blew up.

Brian coughed slightly, which made me realize the two of us had been sitting there staring at each other in buzzing silence for way too long. It was a bad sign. The heat that had already infused me rose up my neck and would definitely have me blushing in no time.