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Jack’s back was to me and I studied him and the dark-haired, giant ring woman. Their body language seemed friendly to each other, but I’d bet my motorcycle that they weren’t together. Diamond lady clearly knew the barista and I watched as she introduced her to Jack.
“Interesting,” I said, under my breath. How does Jack, who lives in town, not know the woman who knew everyone in front of me in line. Jack and Miss Five Carat scanned the room. I took a deep breath and sighed. The only free table was the one right beside me. Diamond lady pointed it out and was headed my way.
Miss Diamond looked directly at me. She had the confidence of a professional tennis player at a community pickleball tournament. And, surprisingly Jack gave me a curt nod of acknowledgement.
I responded with an equally curt nod. Miss Diamond looked between the two of us and then Jack’s shoulders rose as he took in a deep breath. I didn’t know Jack well, but I knew he’d had a traditional upbringing and Muriel would smack his hand with a wooden spoon if he wasn’t a gentleman.
“Hello Henrietta.”
“Hi.” I waved and blew on the steaming hot coffee.
Jack placed his hand on Charlotte’s back. “This is Charlotte O’Hare. Charlotte, this is Henrietta…Page.” He was still doubting my last name.
“Pleased to meet you, Charlotte.” I stood and shook Charlotte’s hand.
Jack pulled out the chair for Charlotte. “If you decide that you’d like to give up the big city life, Charlotte is the best realtor in town.”
Charlotte smiled. “I’m the only realtor in town, thank you for the kind introduction, Jack.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I smiled over my cup, knowing that I could never live in a small town.
“Are you buying a house, Jack? I flipped a page in one of the local news magazines as Jack and Charlotte got settled into their chairs, biting my tongue from making a comment about him leaving the nest. I had been on my own since I was a teenager, and Jack, a full-grown man with a beard and muscles for days, was still living with his mom and dad.
Jack cleared his throat. “I’m buying coffee.”
Touché. Charlotte gave a microscopic head tilt. If she was a perceptive woman, she’d be able to pick up on the weirdo energy exchange in front of her. A sexual charge mixed with an undercurrent of not quite hatred, but dislike, for a reason I still hadn’t figured out. But, if Jack was going to dish it out, I was going to dig in and give it right back to him.
I nodded. “Enjoy your coffee. It was a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte. Actually, I will take your card if you’ve got one.”
Charlotte produced a business card with all of her information within a flash, but I didn’t need it. Two pages into the Chance Rapids newspaper, there was a full page ad filled with real estate listings, the gorgeous Charlotte O’Hare’s photo at the bottom.
The coffee shop was getting busier, and as much as I tried to listen in on Charlotte and Jack’s conversation, the buzz around me made it difficult. Instead, I pulled out my notebook and started jotting down trends, or stereotypes that I saw in the coffee shop. There were definitely three types of people. One was definitely the film crew – they were the ones wearing boots that weren’t insulated and shivering in their impractical jackets. No wonder I’d been lumped in with them. The other two groups, well, they were more subtle. One had Prada handbags and brand new sustainable sourced sportswear, the other had worn in sportswear with duct tape patches.
But they all seemed to mingle together.
When I realized that Sugar Peaks wasn’t going to give me the dirt I was looking for, I slipped my notebook into my pocket and stood to leave. There had to be someone in town I could interview that would tell me the truth. Charlotte and Jack were deep in conversation although Jack cast a glance at me as I slung my backpack over my shoulder. Tingles ran up my spine as I realized he had been hyper aware of my presence in the café.
Like I had been to his. The body language between Jack and Charlotte seemed to go between professional and friendly. There definitely wasn’t any hanky panky going on between the two of them.
I shook my head. Hanky panky. Zeesh. I’d already spent too much time in this town.
“Have a nice day, Henrietta.” Charlotte noticed I was leaving and she waved while looking over Jack’s shoulder.
A mom with a double-wide stroller had parked behind me and that meant I’d have to shimmy past Jack and Charlotte anyway.
“Thank you. It was great to meet you.” I sucked in and tiptoed behind Jack, even though it wasn’t necessary.
Jack turned and gave a perfunctory wave that said, I’d rather not be waving, but it would be rude not to acknowledge your presence. His cold demeanor was perplexing, but I couldn’t let it bother me. I had a story to write.
In an effort to walk away with a little attitude, I spun on the ball of my foot. If that was the last time Jack saw me, I was going to give him a lasting impression of the girl he was rude to for absolutely no reason.
“Eeeek.”
As soon as I heard the woman’s voice screech, I knew that it wasn’t going to be my runway walk-out that Jack remembered, it was going to be the impending coffee tsunami disaster. Megan had a tray of coffee in her hands and as I whirled around, I ran right into her.
Instinct took over. I grasped Megan’s forearms, and we locked eyes over top of the five paper cups stuffed into the cardboard cup holder, four nestled securely in their spots, the fifth bobbling precariously on top.
Time seemed to slow and the Christmas music disappeared. The top cup teetered toward the stroller.
