He shoved his phone into his pocket, resisting the urge to go to his house and toss Ella out on her ass with her purple paint. He had one request. One. No purple, yellow, or pink on the damn walls. He didn’t even think he had to put that out there; his baby sister would have enough sense to know that those colors were nowhere in the stratosphere of what he would want. Blue, gray, hell he’d even settle for green if it didn’t look like mint chocolate chip ice cream. But freaking purple.
Heat crept up his neck into his cheeks, his blood pressure rising with each angry breath he inhaled.
The front door opened, and Enzo heard the distinct sound of Cami’s voice. He stormed down the hallway and greeted Cami and his sister at the door. He yanked his phone out of his pocket and held it up.
“What the hell is this?”
Ella’s eyes widened the same way they had when she was a kid and he’d lost his temper with her. “Your living room.”
He ran a hand over his face. “You’re kidding right? Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I think it looks great,” Cami said. He’d momentarily forgotten she was there. He had things he needed to say to her, but right now he needed to fix this disaster.
“I don’t care what you think,” he growled. “Ella, I told you exactly what I didn’t want, so what in the world made you think that I’d be okay with this?”
“God forbid you step out of your comfort zone,” Cami said, and Enzo cut her a stern look.
“This has nothing to do with that, and everything to do with respecting my wishes. I’m the client.” He jabbed a finger to his chest. “Me. Not you, and not you. Me.”
“So…what you’re saying is that you are the client,” Cami said in a condescending tone. Her lush lips pursing and looking too damn kissable right now. He was pissed off, and the last thing he wanted to think about was how soft her lips were.
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, searching for a sliver of sanity.
“Do you honestly think I’d paint your walls purple?” Ella asked.
“I didn’t think so, but apparently you did.”
Ella shook her head and glanced at Cami who was biting her lip, the corners of her mouth curving upward.
“You’re fucking with me.”
“You should have seen your face,” Ella said between giggles.
The anger turned into relief as the tension in his shoulders eased. He scrubbed a hand over his face as annoyance and embarrassment flooded him. “Laugh it up. Don’t let me stop you.”
“This wasn’t Ella’s fault,” Cami said. “It was my idea.”
He should have known. This had her name written all over it. “How did I not guess?”
“You’re slipping in your old age.” Her eyes met his, and he was struck by their pure beauty. He had almost kissed her earlier today and even though he was infuriated with her right now, he wish he had, especially since she didn’t seem freaked out about the whole thing. She was being herself, smiling, laughing and pulling pranks on him.
Now that he was thinking clearly, he could figure it out. “Your brother helped you with this little stunt, didn’t he?”
“Of course.”
He desperately wanted to take her outside and finish what he had almost started today, but instead he broke their locked gaze. “Now that I know you didn’t completely destroy my place, and I trust you didn’t buy me some ornate coffee table, I need to head back in there before Stan loses his patience and all hell breaks loose.”
“Enzo Moretti: peace keeper,” Cami said with a wink that had heat rush through his entire body. He swallowed and focused his attention on anything but her.
“Have you seen Tony?” he asked Ella, desperate for a topic that could make him forget about the beautiful redhead.
“He came in this morning for breakfast then went right back into his studio. He said the muse is strong, and he doesn’t want to disturb it.”
“Whatever the hell that means,” Enzo mumbled.
“He’s in the zone,” Cami explained.
“If I knew he was going to lock himself away in that studio, I never would have helped him build it.”
Cami poked his shoulder, and his eyes lingered on the spot. “Just think. When he’s some famous artist, you can tell people you helped build his first studio where he made all of his masterpieces.”
Enzo liked to think Tony would become successful with his art, but he didn’t know how that was possible. Enzo wasn’t exactly clued in to the art world and had no idea how it actually worked, but Tony locking himself up for weeks at a time wasn’t a way to support himself.
“Enzo, are you playing or not?” Stan’s voice drifted out of the dining room.
“You’re being beckoned,” Ella said. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“Fabriella, is that you?” Grandpa called down the hallway.
Ella turned to Cami. “You want to stay for a few?”
“I need to head out. I have some things to do before I get to bed then I have an early day tomorrow. I’ll call you.”
“Talk to you then.” Ella gave a wave and headed down the hallway, leaving Enzo and Cami completely alone.
They stood there in awkward silence for a moment before she tossed her thumb over her shoulder. “I should go.”
“Get home safely…since I’m sure you didn’t get that tire fixed.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to knock you over the head with that tire.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“Is that a challenge?”
He laughed, and when she didn’t make any move to leave, he decided to acknowledge the elephant in the room.
“About earlier…” he said.
She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
Her eyebrows curved inward, her brown eyes filling with an emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. It was totally innocent, and I get that. No reason to make a big deal out of it.”
“Yeah, right.” If she had been in his head and heard his thoughts, she wouldn’t be blowing it off as nothing, but it was probably for the best. “Drive safely.” He opened the door.
She stood there for a second then nodded. “I’ll make sure to do seventy the entire way home.”
He went to say something, but she was already out the door.
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.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It will be. I have to open.”
“You cannot work with your ankle like this.”
“Watch me.” She removed her foot from his hand and stood defiantly, only for pain to ricochet through her leg. She winced and clenched her teeth to keep the squeal of agony from escaping. Damn it. Now she was never going to convince him she was okay.
“Let me take you home.”
“Are you out of your mind? I’m set to open in five minutes. My regulars will be expecting their coffees. I can’t let them down.” Not to mention the last person she wanted to be stuck in a car with was Enzo. Last night, he apologized to her for almost kissing her, like it was some lapse in judgement, and he was trying to repent of his sins. It was obvious that whatever had passed between them had meant nothing to him.
“You can’t even walk. How do you plan on making coffee and helping customers?”
“Yes, I can. I just have to move slowly.” She moved her foot forward and quickly shifted to her other foot. She continued this ridiculous escapade all the way to the espresso machine, being extra careful not to put too much weight on her bad ankle.
She really needed to get the broom from the utility closet and clean up the glass before her customers started arriving.
“I’ll help you,” Enzo said.
“How the hell are you going to help me? You have your own business to run, and you fired Ella not too long ago, if you have forgotten.” Cami didn’t accept help easily, and she definitely didn’t want Enzo’s help. He could take his lame ass apology and offer of help and shove it. She would manage just fine without him taking control.
“First of all, I didn’t fire her. I let her go so she could pursue her dream of interior design. You and I both know she never would have left on her own. Secondly, I have more than one person on my staff, unlike someone who thinks she can run everything herself. Not to mention my place doesn’t open for at least five more hours.”
“Then why are you here so early?” she asked. He usually didn’t come in until about ten or eleven. She wasn’t used to seeing him so early except on the beach those couple of mornings. She wasn’t prepared, and now with her ankle throbbing, she was feeling vulnerable.
He rubbed at the slight stubble on his chin. “I didn’t sleep well again, and after my run on the beach, I figured I might as well start my day. Needed a little pick me up to get me through.”
“You went for a run this morning?” she asked, guilt and disappointment swirling inside her.
“I did. It was peaceful. If not a little lonely.”
Was he insinuating that he wished she was on the beach with him? He was the one who made what happened between them yesterday into some sort of mistake.
She wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t overslept this morning. If she’d made it to the beach for her early morning run. She would have seen Enzo, and he never would have barged in here like he did. Her ankle wouldn’t be double its normal size either.
“Still have a lot on your mind?” she asked in an attempt to ignore the pain.
“Yeah,” he admitted. If only he’d elaborate, give her a little more insight into that brain of his. He was good at talking but revealed very little about himself. Everything Cami knew, she’d figured out from years of observing him.
“Let me get you your coffee.” She grabbed a cup and turned carefully to the coffee machine, but it wasn’t careful enough. A sharp ache shot through her foot and up her calf. She grabbed for the counter, but before she could grab the wood top, strong arms scooped her up.
“Like I said, stubborn,” Enzo said, his breath warm against her ear. “I’ll make my own coffee.”
“Do you even know how to make coffee?” she asked.
“I think I can manage.”
“That’s great and everything, but what about my other customers? Kayla Montclair will be expecting her mocha frappe. Harry Balister will want his cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso. Mrs. Finestein will want her redeye, and Reid will definitely need his café macchiato before his double shift at the station.”
“Tell me what to do, and I’ll make them.”
Did he really think it would be that easy? Did he not realize that every single coffee she hand delivered to her customers was made with precision and passion? Heavy on one ingredient or stingy on another could throw off the balance of an entire order. Her customers deserved better than that.
But what choice did she have at this point? She was desperate to get rid of Enzo so she could fight through the pain, but every time she put pressure on her ankle, she had to fight back tears.
“I think people will understand,” he said.
“I still don’t like it.”
“What about Paulie?”
“He doesn’t come in until nine.”
“Why don’t you give him a call and see if
he’ll come in early? And while you do that, I’ll call Ella.”
“Why are you calling Ella?”
“So she can get down here and help.”
“And what is she going to do? She knows nothing about coffee.”
“No, but she worked ten years manning a register at Vinny’s Lobster Shack. Paulie can make the drinks, and Ella can ring them up.”
“I’m sure she’s busy.” The last thing she wanted to do was inconvenience her friend because she didn’t know how to properly stand on a chair.
“She was going to look at tiles for my backsplash. It can wait.”
“To go with your purple living room.”
“That was very funny by the way.” Sarcasm dripped from his words, and she couldn’t stop the laugh that fell from her lips.
“It was hilarious. The look on your face was so worth it. And the fact that you thought we accomplished all of that in like three hours. You give us way too much credit.”
His eyes caught hers. “I know once you put your mind to something, there is no stopping you. No matter the time constraints.”
The way he said it, it was as if he was in awe of her, and she wasn’t expecting the rush of emotion to flood through her. She cleared her throat and snapped her attention away from him before she revealed more than she wanted to. She pointed to the espresso machine. “Enough with the chit chat. We have work to do.”
***
Enzo had a newfound respect for Cami. He’d busted his ass on busy days at the Lobster Shack, but nothing compared to people looking for their morning caffeine fix. They were eager and desperate. He had cleaned up the shattered lightbulb, and by the time he was done, there was already a line at the register.
Cami had abandoned the chair for the countertop and greeted each person who came in with an apology and an explanation while Enzo prayed that Paulie and Ella would show up soon.
An hour after he turned the sign to open, he got his wish. Ella was the first to show up, and Paulie fifteen minutes later.
They took over, and Enzo leaned against the counter where Cami was still perched.
“You look tired,” she said.
“That would be putting it lightly. Exhausted seems to be a better word.”
His Complete Polar Opposite Page 8