Friends Like These: A Romantic Comedy (A Love Like This Book 3)

by Carina Taylor

  Dear Noah,

  I’m sorry for sending you Zeke and Edwina, but I hope they’ve brought some adventure to your so, so, so boring life. I know that deep down, you want a mascot there ;-) I wanted to give you something that would remind you of me. Meet Page Jr. and Noah Jr. the geckos. They like snacks and silence. They wouldn’t thrive very well in my house, so I thought they would be better off with you.

  Page Boone

  Your fairy godmother. (Yes, Hagen called me this morning.)

  P.S. The real reason I can’t keep them at my house is I always forget to feed things.

  With a chuckle, I folded the note and set it next to my laptop. It would be one to save.

  “Well, Kent, it looks like I’m the proud owner of two geckos named Page Jr. and Noah Jr.”

  “Thank goodness they don’t eat as much as a goat and aren’t as messy as a chicken.”

  “About time we had something lower maintenance, I agree.”

  “So, what’s your deal with her?” He asked as he leaned forward to study the green geckos.

  “I like her. I plan on asking her out soon. If I could just get her to stop sending me things that are alive. But I think the geckos are her parting shot. I spoke with her the last night when I was at her house.”

  Kent straightened quickly, startling the geckos who scurried to hide behind a faux rock in their home. “You were at her house? You just met her.”

  “She was babysitting her little brother.”

  “Oh great, you already met the family. You’re too far gone now! Just when I thought I’d found my wingman.”

  “I’ve never been your wingman. Besides, I’d rather find one girl worth spending the rest of my life with.”

  “You always take everything so seriously. It makes me sound so shallow.”

  “That’s because you are Kent.” Leaning down, I studied the geckos. The brighter colored gecko would be Page Jr. The paler one would be Noah Jr.

  “No need to soften the blow, I guess. That’s what friends are for. Well, with friends like these,” he gestured to the geckos, “you don’t exactly need any enemies. Page is like a wrecking ball around this course.”

  “She’s lively.”

  “She’s something all right. I take back every nice thing I said about her the first day I met her. I should have known she was mayhem waiting to happen when she sent those notes to the kitchen staff.”

  “She’s still their favorite after helping the other day.”

  Kent nodded glumly. “A shame, really.”

  I glared at him. “I know she’s not your favorite person, but at least pretend to be civil when you’re around her.”

  He stood and rapped his knuckles on my desk. “I’ll be civil if she stays away and keeps those animals to herself.”

  “What exactly made you so upset with her?”

  I knew what made him so upset. I also figured it was worth pestering him about since he’d asked her out and been turned down—after I’d made it clear that I was interested in her.

  He walked to the window and looked outside. “She’s so unprofessional. Sending all of those animals?”

  “Huh. What’s really bothering you?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at me. “She’s been the talk of the course. Some of the caddies were placing bets on which of them will take her out on a date first.”

  I wasn’t surprised. She was beautiful, she had a quick sense of humor, and she didn’t put up with any crap. “Tell them she’s unavailable—because she will be dating their boss.”

  Kent continued grumbling under his breath as he turned and left the room.

  I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of the geckos on my desk and texted it to Page.

  Noah: They’re happy to be home.

  I tried to get to work approving a few more member applications, but I kept hearing a phantom chime on my phone.

  Finally, after I’d had to retype three emails due to my distracted state, I heard my phone chime. It was a full thirty minutes before she texted me back. I’d grown a few gray hairs in that time.

  Page: They can keep you company when I’m not there.

  Noah: I thought you’d died when you didn’t text back.

  Page: Nope. Just working. Are you glued to your phone? Now I’m wondering if you’re capable of not answering your phone immediately.

  Noah: I don’t have to answer my phone right away.

  Page: Coffee or tea?

  I tapped my phone against the desk as I tried my hardest not to unlock the screen and answer her question. Sweat started to bead on my forehead due to the effort.

  Finally, I unlocked it and texted back.

  Noah: Tea. What does that have to do with anything?

  Page: Congratulations. You made it a full three minutes before texting back. Addict.

  Noah: Know of a cure?

  Page: *GIF of a shattered phone*

  Noah: The only thing I believe in quitting cold turkey is smoking.

  Page: Good to know. Now, how am I going to make you like coffee more?

  Noah: Why do I have to like coffee?

  Page: Because I work in a coffee shop.

  Sign me up. I was going to like coffee if it killed me.

  Noah: Are you there now?

  Page: I work tomorrow morning. I’ll make you a coffee believer if you let me.

  Noah: I’ll think about it.

  She texted me the address of the coffee shop, along with the hours she was working. I barely refrained from texting her back. I didn’t want to come across as too desperate—especially since I was bordering on stalker mode now. I’d shown up at the art gallery and her house. Granted, she kept showing up here—with animals—but I wanted her to look forward to seeing me, not feel pressured to be around me.

  Now I knew what I would be doing the next morning, and it wasn’t emailing suppliers.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  PAGE

  My hands worked on autopilot as I made mochas and cappuccinos. I seamlessly flirted with the regulars; until finally, my favorite person to serve stepped up to the counter.

  “Cletus, I thought you were banned from this place.”

  “Nah,” he leaned his cane against the counter. “They don’t mind taking my money.”

  Raising my eyebrows at him, I frothed the milk for his coffee. “You must know the owner very well. Why don’t you tell me about him?”

  “Nicest guy you’ll ever meet.”

  “Oh, I doubt that.”

  “Can you think of someone nicer?” Cletus scowled me, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

  “My dad’s pretty nice.”

  “He must be a saint to put up with you,” Cletus observed.

  “He’s better than my cranky old boss.”

  “Have you been fired lately?”

  I shook my head as I handed him his regular drink.

  “Well, you’re fired.”

  Cletus owned the coffee shop.

  He reminded me of an ankle-high dog that yips furiously at anything and anyone—all bark, no bite. He fired me at least three times a week. It was very therapeutic for him. I kept showing up, and he kept paying me. He usually tipped on the days he fired me.

  Splitting my time working at the coffee shop and the art shop meant I could work a lot of hours. The coffee shop was definitely my favorite. Anytime I could get tips, I was happy to take it. I knew it was past time to get serious about finding a career that I could make a living from and help me afford to travel. With lots of time off. Maybe I should start looking into turning into becoming a gold-digger. It had potential.

  Anything that would get me out of my parents’ backyard. I loved my little cottage and being close to my family, but their lives were consumed with the twins. Cameron and I stuck together. Maybe I’d take him with me on my next weekend trip. I really needed to take some extended time off so I could take a trip longer than three days.

  “I’m going in the back to make a couple of phone calls if you nee
d me.”

  “Okay.” I drew the word out. Cletus never told me what he was doing. He was a terrible communicator, so I felt like he had an ulterior motive for telling me this, but I didn’t know why.

  He stomped past me and headed to the office in the back.

  The next half hour, I spent mixing drinks and taking money. When the rush slowed, I mentally added up my tip money to my bank account, wondering if I had enough to make it to Belize.

  “Excuse me.”

  I stopped absentmindedly designing a cruise ship with coffee beans and looked up at the customer.

  “I’m here to meet someone by the name of Cletus. Do you know if anyone by that name is here yet?”

  The woman standing on the other side of the counter wore a pale blue off-the-shoulder dress with a cream-colored handbag over her shoulder. I’m sure it was expensive. I didn’t recognize designer clothes or bags, but I could smell out money. She had a friendly smile. But those weren’t the things tripping me up. It was the fact that she was asking for Cletus.

  “Ma’am? You want to see Cletus?”

  Her smile fell. “Oh, well, I thought he’d asked me to meet him here, but if he’s not here—”

  I bit the side of my cheek accidentally. “Are you here for something business-related?”

  “Not exactly.” She shifted her bag to her other shoulder and raised her brown, shaped eyebrows at me.

  “You’re on a date with him?” I stopped tapping my pen against the counter.

  She nodded, and I laughed—loudly. Her cheeks turned red, and I realized that I was embarrassing her by drawing attention to us from the other customers. “I’m sorry,” I gasped. “It’s just, you’re so pretty and polite, and Cletus is—well, Cletus is my favorite grump.”

  She smiled a little at that. “He can be brusque at first.”

  “That’s a nice way of putting it, that’s for sure. Can I make you a cup of something? He’s in the back office. He’ll probably be out at any moment.”

  “Something strong and caffeinated sounds wonderful.”

  “I can take care of that. You’ll need it for him.”

  She smiled and tried passing me a card. I waved her off, then began grinding the coffee beans for her espresso.

  “Have you worked here long?” She asked as I stirred in the foamed milk.

  “For a couple of years now.”

  “So, you know Cletus well?”

  I nodded while I swirled the caramel around the edge of the porcelain mug.

  “Are you a student in town?”

  “No, I’m just a wandering soul that can’t afford to wander.”

  She gave me a sympathetic look. “Many of us have been in the same situation, sweetie. You’ll figure it out.”

  “And if you’re wondering about my opinion of Cletus, he’s a cantankerous, grumpy, overbearing sweetheart that I love. But don’t you dare tell him I said that. He’ll make my life miserable.”

  Her smile grew. “That makes me feel better. I have to tell you this is the first time I’ve gone on a date in years. I’m glad he asked me for coffee. Something casual.”

  I handed her the cup of coffee. “I hope you enjoy your time here. If it doesn’t work out between you and Cletus, at least you got a date and a coffee out of the deal. Which reminds me, I’ll have to tell him to buy your coffee from now on.”

  “Buy who’s coffee?” Cletus barked from behind me.

  I turned around and reprimanded him. “You kept the pretty lady waiting.”

  His cheeks flushed, and he ducked his head. He mumbled, “I’m so sorry, Caroline. Business got carried away.”

  He kept muttering apologies while he slipped around the end of the counter. It was cute to see him so embarrassed. I didn’t think Cletus could exhibit any other emotion other than testiness.

  They walked to the back corner of the shop, sitting down on an empty leather couch together, stealing embarrassed looks at each other.

  It was so strange to see people their age dating, to see the push and pull of trying to get to know each other, wanting to impress their date, and always conscious of their actions.

  The next hour, I spent serving coffee and watching Cletus and Caroline. I even had enough time to stencil their initials on a paper napkin. I’d save it for them and gift it to them on their wedding day...

  Caroline told me goodbye before she left, and Cletus grumped at me for a few minutes after he escorted her out the door. Overall, I think he liked her a lot. I’d have to find out how he met her later because a line had formed, and I found myself swamped for the next fifteen minutes. Working quickly, I spun back and forth, filling cups, grinding the coffee, steaming milk. Tanya, my annoying and useless coworker, managed to get in the way more than help. In spite of that, each cup was delivered quickly and with a smile for the tippers. By the time I had helped almost all of them, my head was spinning from turning around so much.

  “Karen!” I called as I set a nonfat, dairy-free, sugar-free, decaf, and happiness-free caramel mocha on the counter.

  Karen took her drink and went to sit down with her friend. I turned around to help the next customer and wheezed. It was Noah.

  “What—” I cleared my throat. “Can I get for you?”

  “What’s wrong with your voice?”

  So much for acting unsurprised. “It’s the opera lessons.”

  He looked confused for a minute, and it was adorable. I had to keep myself busy, or I was going to ask him outright then. I emptied the punch card stand and pretended to be straightening it.

  “Do you know what you want to drink?”

  “How about peppermint tea?”

  I glanced around to double-check that I was still in the coffee shop. I was. “You realize this is a coffee shop, right?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Most coffee shops serve tea, too.”

  I scowled at him. “There’s something wrong about going to a coffee shop and ordering tea.”

  His form-fitting jacket stretched across his chest when he shrugged. “I’m not a huge fan of coffee.”

  Interesting. Well, I liked to think of myself as a missionary with one goal in mind. Convert the coffee-free people to the delights and wonders of caffeine addiction. And trust me, I take that mission seriously. Just call me Mother Teresa.

  “Give me a minute, and I’ll make you one.”

  “But-”

  “Trust me; you’ll love it.” I didn’t smile because I only smiled at customers who tipped. The more they paid, the more I smiled. It was my version of fair-trade coffee.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay; not everyone is born loving coffee. Some people have to grow in their love for it.”

  I heard a short chuckle, but I forced myself to pay attention to what I was doing. I added white chocolate and raspberry next.

  “That’s not what I meant. I meant I’m sorry you had to part with Page Jr. and Noah Jr. But I need you to promise me something.”

  “Promise what?” I took longer than necessary to snap the lid onto the cardboard cup. “Here you go.”

  He reached out to take the cup from me, but he wrapped his hand around mine so that we were holding the cup together. “I need you to promise never to send me a singing telegram again. Kent almost died from embarrassment.”

  I grinned but said nothing. I needed him to reposition his hand so I could let go of the cup. If I tried to pull away, we’d drop the coffee.

  He looked so patient leaning against the counter with his hand wrapped around mine. “I’m waiting.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m not sure it’s a promise I can keep. How are Noah and Page?”

  “Probably my favorite present ever.” He smiled and moved his hand down to the bottom of the cup so I could let go. Not that I wanted to. I wanted nothing more than to hold his hand.

  “I’ll have to come by, and visit them so they don’t forget about me,” I told him.

  “Yes, you will. If you let me have your p
icture, I could show it to them every day, so they’ll remember you. How long did you have them?”

  I picked up a rag and scrubbed at an imaginary streak on the black counter. “About two hours.”

  Noah chuckled, and it was as though I could feel it all the way to my toes.

  “Hey, I grew very attached in those two hours. It was hard to send them to you.”

  “Well, you could help me take care of them.”

  “I’ve never co-parented geckos before.”

  “I’m sure you and I can figure something out. We’d better grab dinner sometime while we figure out the particulars.”

  I stopped scrubbing the counter. “Is this a business dinner? Should I bring my lawyer? If I could actually afford one, that is.”

  Noah rested a hand flat on the countertop in front of me, his face serious. His voice was low when he answered, “No, this wouldn’t be related to business. It’s purely for pleasure. I would even call it a date.”

  He reached out and grabbed the rag from my hands, where I’d been twisting it tight enough to rip. He set his coffee cup down on the counter and carefully folded the cloth into a neat square without taking his eyes from mine. “What do you say?”

  “Yes. Yup. One hundred percent.”

  He smiled, and I was pretty sure I was levitating over the coffee bean littered floor.

  “You like me,” I said to reassure myself that I’d heard him correctly. He wanted to go on a date with me. Me. He’d even seen most of my crazy and still asked me out.

  “Yeah, I like you. Now, you let me know when works for you. I know where I want to take you if you trust me to plan the date.”

  Unable to come up with a coherent answer, I simply nodded and smiled.

  He tipped his coffee cup towards me and winked.

  “I’ve got to go feed Page Jr., and Noah Jr. Have a great day.”

  “I will now.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  NOAH

  Three days after I’d asked Page on a date, we were finally going out. It might as well have been three months. I planned on taking her to dinner on Magazine Street, then over to the Palace Market Frenchman. I’d have the bonus of an hour-long car ride with her each way.