by Jacie Lennon
Hanna knocks on my door before sticking her hand through with a coffee. “Need some help?” she asks, leaning a hip against the doorframe.
“I think I’ve got it,” I say with a huff as I stand and grab the coffee from her.
“Probably not as good as The Funky Brewster, but it will get the job done.” She gives me a sad smile. “Do you have to leave me?”
“I’ve got to get back and check on the shop,” I say with a shrug, feeling the tears welling up in my eyes.
I’m such an idiot. I screwed a guy to get him out of my head, and now, he’s more a part of my head than before. It didn’t help that he did it while his date, or whatever she was to him, was right inside. Seems all I attract are douche bags.
“Hey, what happened last night?” Hanna asks, raising an eyebrow.
The tingle of nerves puts me on edge as I debate whether to tell her what I did. I know she won’t judge, but I’m ashamed of even speaking it out loud.
“Nothing. I think everything is just getting to me. Being sick, the breakup, traveling, and being gone for a week. I just need a few good nights in my bed, I think.”
Hanna nods in understanding before reaching her hand out for one of my bags and helping me wheel them through the house. I stop at the table to tell Livie and Luke good-bye, kissing each of their little heads. I’m going to miss their happy faces greeting me every morning. Finally, I turn to Hanna and grab her in a hug.
“Thanks for being the bestest best friend ever,” I mutter into her hair.
“Anytime. And my offer still stands to go kick Kyle’s butt whenever you need,” she says with a wink.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” With another round of hugs to the kids, I walk out the door, beginning the long trip back home. Back to reality.
“Mom, Dad?” I call as I walk in the office door at the back of The Funky Brewster eight hours later.
Mom’s flushed face appears on the doorway, breaking out in a smile as she sees me. “Julia, I’m so glad you are here,” she says in a weird, high-pitched voice.
She rounds the desk I’m standing behind and gathers me in her arms. I sink into her embrace and inhale the scent of her clothing that hasn’t changed since I was a child. There truly is no place like home.
“Hey, Mom. Is Dad here?” I peek around her, expecting him to walk through the door at any moment. I can feel Mom shift and fidget a little, so I step back and peer at her. “Mom?”
“Oh, yes, your dad is here.” She shifts her gaze, so I can’t see her eyes.
Dread courses through me as I start toward the door that leads to the front of the shop before Mom grabs my arm.
“Hey, um, Dad’s fine. He’s just taking care of something,” she says, panic crossing her face.
I gently pull my arm from her grasp and continue toward the front, hearing a familiar voice. Stepping through the office door, I already know who is here. Who Mom and Dad are trying to shield me from. The voice brings back memories, ingrained in my mind. Memories I’ve tried to forget over the last few weeks.
“Hello, Kyle,” I say calmly, surprising myself. “Why are you here?”
He whips his head to where I’m standing, a smile taking over his face. A face I once found handsome, but now, I can only see a snake.
“Jules, I’ve been trying to contact you,” he says, walking over to me.
I take a step back. “I didn’t answer for a reason. I don’t want to talk to you.” I cross my arms over my chest, my heart beating erratically.
“Did you get my voice mails?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you call me back?”
“I have nothing to say to you, Kyle. You are an asshole and a cheater, and frankly, I’m not upset that it happened to you too. Karma is a bitch.” I level him with a scathing look.
He looks shocked, and I’m not sure why. Surely, he doesn’t think I would come running back to him.
“You need to leave.”
“Jules—”
“Leave,” I say firmly.
He backs up a step before glaring back at me. “You’ll change your mind once you see there’s no one else out there for you,” he says to me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see my dad step forward, a look of fury on his face, making it turn red.
“Get the hell out,” he says, pointing toward the door.
I glance around, thankful that no one is in here right now.
“Don’t come back, Kyle. We are over,” I say softly while watching his face transform from angry to calm again. I narrow my eyes.
How have I never seen how quickly he changes?
Kyle turns to walk out, glancing back at me with a smile, giving me the creeps. I don’t smile back. My shoulders sag as soon as the door shuts behind him.
“God, I hate him,” Dad says with a growl, walking up behind me.
I’m inclined to agree. I’m exhausted from the trip, and this didn’t help matters. All I want to do is crawl in bed.
“You look tired. Want me to drive you? Your mom is going to finish up here.”
I reach to hug my dad while nodding.
“I missed you, Dad,” I tell him as he kisses my forehead.
“Missed you too, Jules. Come on. Let’s go home.”
The next two weeks are filled with getting the new barista trained and looking for a possible manager so that I don’t have to be at the shop all the time. Christmas comes and goes, and I spend it all with my family or filling in for the Christmas crowd at The Funky Brewster. Everyone rushing around, doing last-minute shopping, causes a rise in caffeine sales, and I don’t question it. Kyle comes into the shop every day, and every day, I kick him out.
The routine is getting old. It’s exhausting, fighting off the advances of someone who hurt me deeply and can’t take a hint. I start to think about Hanna’s suggestion. Maybe getting out of Virginia for a while and focusing on something else will be just what I need. And it’s the perfect opportunity to help open another coffee shop. I do have experience.
I pull my phone out to call Hanna and check if the spot is still open.
“Hiya, friend,” Hanna says when she answers.
I can hear the smile in her voice, and a grin breaks out on my face.
“Hey, Han-Han. How’s it going?”
“Luke is still teething,” she says with a groan. “I’ve been up for, like, um, seventy-two hours straight.”
“I doubt that,” I say with a laugh.
“Okay, I’m exaggerating, but I am tired. How are things back home?”
“They are okay. That’s actually why I’m calling.”
“Oh, really?” I can hear her perk up in interest at my cryptic statement.
“Yeah, do you know if that management spot for the coffee shop is still open at the bistro?” The line goes quiet, and my heart sinks. “I mean, if it’s already filled, no big deal. I was just trying to weigh my options.” I quickly backtrack.
“No, I think it’s still open,” Hanna says. “Let me talk to Ezra for a moment.”
I hear Hanna’s muffled voice talking to Ezra in the background, but I can’t make out what she’s saying.
The phone shuffles before Hanna’s voice is back. “Hey, yeah. Okay, he said, as far as he knows, they haven’t even started construction on the coffee shop.”
“Do you think they will be hiring soon?”
“Ez just told me that Nick told him if you want the job, you are hired.”
“Really? They don’t even want to interview me?” I ask, my brows drawn down in confusion. I look up to see Kyle walking through the front door. “Hey, I’ve got to take care of something. Talk to you later,” I tell her before hanging up the phone.
“Who was that?” Kyle asks as soon as he stops at the counter.
“None of your business. What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” he says, holding out a single rose.
I don’t take it, and the smile he has pasted on drops off his face. I let out
a groan.
“You’ve come by here every single day, and every single day, I tell you to leave. Why won’t you get the hint? Am I going to have to get a restraining order?” I put on my most menacing face.
“Fuck, Jules, I just want to talk to you.” He throws the flower down on the counter, and I watch as a petal falls off.
“And I told you, I don’t want to talk. Please leave. Take the rose with you.” I turn to walk away when he leans over the counter, grabbing my arm. “Let go of me, Kyle. That hurts.”
I try to pull my arm from his grip, but he holds it tighter. My stomach clenches with fear as I realize he’s stronger than me.
“Are you screwing someone else?” he asks with a snarl.
I freeze. This side of Kyle is scary.
“Let. Me. Go. And don’t ever come back,” I whisper with my teeth pressed together.
He slowly releases his hand, and the blood rushes back into my arm where he cut it off. I rub the area, grimacing in pain.
“You’re such a bitch. I don’t know what I saw in you to begin with,” he says casually before walking out.
My heart is in my throat, and my body crashes down once the adrenaline leaves me. I walk slowly to the office in the back, two fingers pinching the bridge of my nose to ward off tears. Shaking, I try to remember if there were warning signs that I ignored. Pulling out my phone, I send a quick text to Hanna.
Jules: I’m in. Tell Ezra to let Nick know I’ll help them get it running.
Hanna: What?! You are moving here?!
Jules: For a little bit. I don’t know about anything permanent, but you are right. I need a change of scenery.
Hanna: Freaking. Out. My plan worked.
Jules: Your plan?
Hanna: Operation Move Jules to Nashville.
That elicits a grin from me, and I realize I’ve calmed down a little bit. Now, convincing my parents it’s a good idea will be a different story.
15
Jules
A week later, I’m settled into an apartment that Hanna found for me. It’s close to her house, and I’m sure she chose it for that reason alone.
This might be the craziest thing I’ve ever done, moving eight hours from home. Well, aside from my one-night stand I never think about. Ever. Period. A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have been able to convince me that, within a month, I would be living in Nashville, helping someone I don’t know open a coffee shop and escaping an abusive ex.
What has my life become?
Ezra got me in contact with Tim, one of the men working on the contract, and I went over some plans with him, but I’m supposed to meet with Nick and the general contractor today to finalize a few things. I’m nervous, and those feelings amplify as soon as I climb into my car, my sweaty palms leaving prints on the steering wheel.
“Breathe,” I mutter to myself, trying some meditation tactics. I know I can do this, but the last few weeks have left me feeling less than confident, even queasy at times.
Before I know it, I’ve pulled into the bistro parking lot and put my car in park. This is it. I’m opening another coffee shop.
A knock on my window causes me to jump, turning to find a pair of sizzling blue eyes peering in, the beautiful lips beneath them curled in a smirk, and my heart plummets as I press one hand to my roiling stomach.
No, no … no. I roll the window down.
“Why exactly are you here?” Mason asks, his face suspiciously scrunched up.
“Why are you here?” I fire back.
“My dad owns the place, remember?” He rolls his eyes before stepping back as I push the door open.
I awkwardly waddle out of the car as Mason makes no move to walk inside. Pulling my skirt down as far as it will let me, I attempt not to flash him.
“I’ve seen it all before,” he says, smirk back in place.
I glare at him. “It was a moment of weakness.” I grit my teeth, straightening my spine as I hold my head high to walk in the door. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a meeting with your dad.”
“So do I,” he says with a nod, narrowing his eyes and holding the door open. He then proceeds to follow me down the hallway to the back office. I give a quick rap on the door and wait, Mason’s proximity leaving me breathless and angry at the same time. The door swings open to Nick’s smiling face, his booming voice ushering me in before he greets his son.
“Found her loitering outside,” Mason tells Nick.
I whip my head around. “I had just pulled up. I was not loitering.” I want to scratch his smug face.
These aggressive feelings can’t be healthy for you, I think.
Turning back toward Nick, I paste a polite smile on even though I want to tell him his son is the spawn of Satan. Which might not go over well since Mason is his spawn. Yeah, better not say that.
To my surprise, Mason flops in the chair next to mine after shutting the door, and we both look at Nick.
“Wait,” I say, looking at Mason. “We are in the same meeting?”
“What’s going on?” He looks at me in confusion before looking back at his dad.
There’s something I’m not being told.
“Mason is my general contractor. You and he will be working closely together on this project,” Nick says.
My mouth drops open.
Damn you, Hanna.
She is going to get an earful when I am done with this meeting. She had to have known Mason was the general contractor. I should have questioned her more, figured things out.
I feel sick.
I can’t work closely with Mason on building the coffee shop. We will either kill each other or spend the entire time fucking. As I said, love and hate are two sides of the same coin. Mason and I are proof of that. Even though my mind wants to dislike him, my body is a traitor, and I can already sense my nipples perking up just from him being in the same room. Now that I’ve experienced him, there’s no going back.
I realize both men are staring at me, and I quickly clear my throat.
“Are you okay, Jules? You are a little pale,” Nick says, concern on his face.
“Oh, I’m fine. I’m good,” I start rambling before abruptly cutting myself off, my face going from pale to red.
Oh no. I slap a hand over my mouth, and both men look at me again.
“Restroom?” I mutter.
“Out and to the left,” Mason says, standing as quickly as I do.
I bolt, flinging the door open and barely making it to the toilet before emptying the contents of my stomach.
What is wrong with me?
I’ve never been this nervous before. I stand and press my back to the wall, the cold seeping through the thin material of my shirt, cooling me off. Walking to the sink, I turn the faucet on and grab a few paper towels, holding them under the cold stream. I lift my hair and press the wrung-out towels to my neck, taking a few deep breaths.
Is this what a panic attack feels like? I’m not sure since I’ve never had one.
I look in the mirror and stare. My skin does look pale.
I throw the towels away and walk out, nerves worse than before since I look like a loon now.
Knocking, I open the door, sticking my head in and seeing both men standing, staring at me again. I push the rest of the door open and rub my sweaty hands against my skirt, clearing my throat.
“So sorry. Where were we?” I take a seat along with Nick and Mason.
After a beat of silence, Mason shifts toward me. “Are you okay?”
“Just fine. Thank you.” I nod curtly and look back at Nick, who is glancing between us with concern.
“Will this be a problem? You two working together?” he asks, leaning back and crossing his arms. He raises his eyebrows while waiting for us to speak.
I’m not sure.
I can sense Mason’s eyes on me before he answers, “Won’t be a problem at all. We perform well together.”
I cut my eyes to him as he brings his fist up under his chin in a nonchalant manner.
/> “Uh, yes, okay. Here are the final plans that I had Tim draw up,” Nick says, sliding the papers across his desk.
I lean forward to grab them at the same time Mason does. Neither of us removes our hands, and we sit back, the papers suspended between our chairs. I smile at Nick as he watches.
“These look great. I’m sure Tim did everything to the right specifications, but I will have a look at them tonight to verify,” I say.
“I think I should look over them as the GC,” Mason says, tugging on his side of the papers.
“Why don’t you both take a look at them? I have all the time in the world,” Nick says, spreading his hands wide.
Mason and I look at each other, an unspoken argument flitting back and forth between our eyes. He slowly peels his fingers off the papers, and I jerk them to my side in triumph. Elated that I won the standoff, I toss a flippant smile his way.
God, we are acting like children.
I scan over the papers, noting where changes that I had suggested were made and where things were left the same. It looks like a good setup, and from my experience with The Funky Brewster, it should work well in the space that is allotted in Nickoli’s Bistro.
“The plans are great, Nick. I think you will be happy with the changes, and I can’t wait to see the finished product.” I smile at him and shove the plans toward Mason without glancing over.
I can’t believe I’m in this situation. I should have left well enough alone, but no, I had to go make it more difficult by adding sex into the mix. Now, instead of me being able to dislike someone like a regular person, my body revolts and tries to convince me it’s a good idea to throw him on top of the desk in front of us—figuratively speaking. I wouldn’t be able to lift Mason. Maybe he could throw me on the desk.
“I do hope that you will be here to oversee things with Mason and especially when Mason can’t be here.” Nick peers at me.
“Of course. What else do I have to do?” I ask with a laugh. This is my life now. Helping to build another coffee shop and then manage it. With the most infuriating and drop-dead sexy man I’ve ever met. Yay me.