Lipstick & Lattes

by Tracy Krimmer

  I turn to my side and pull the covers up to my chin. I don’t budge when his beard scratches the side of my face as he kisses my shoulder. “I don’t care if you work at a makeup counter or sell lipstick out of a suitcase or run the entire country.” He moves my hair aside and pulls the duvet down further. “All I care is that we’re together.”

  I turn around and press myself against him in a hug. “I apologize. I want to make other plans. I’m scared, though. I don’t want to fail.” The exact words my brother used. Fear works both ways. It can scare you out of doing something, but it’s the one thing that can push you forward.

  “You won’t. I’m here for you.” He kisses my shoulder again. “Let’s make plans together.”

  Together. I like the sound of that.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Two hours into the five-hour fundraiser for the Humane Society, and I’m astonished by the turnout. I knew people loved this little coffee shop, but I had no idea just how much. Droves of people showed up already and we’re expecting a lot more. I’m set up in the back corner with a small station to focus on face painting. I’ve already painted a couple of Elsas, a few Ninja Turtles, and a couple as Hulk and She-Hulk. I’m having so much fun utilizing my skills in another fashion. The customers are being so generous, and that’s wonderful since the entire event is running strictly on donations.

  “I’ve already raised $150.” I toss my brush aside as Ed approaches.

  “That’s great! How are you holding up?” He puts his arm around me while I take a break. My hand can use the rest. Between work and the painting I’m doing at home, my body is nearing exhaustion.

  I wrap my arms around his waist. “I should be asking you and Leann that. You two are doing a lot more work than me.” The fundraiser was my idea. All I’m doing is painting cute faces while they maintain the counter and answering questions. I don’t mind being back here by myself, but I’ll admit, it’s lonely when I don’t have anyone to paint.

  He plants a kiss on me. “Don’t sell yourself short. Not just anybody can create these beautiful pieces of artwork.”

  Artwork. Whether I’m working on a canvas set on an easel or a face sitting in front of me, I’m creating art. I’m not only about lipstick and lattes. There’s so much more to me than that. Yes, over the past month, I’ve grown to love Ed’s lattes. Lattes with love—that’s what I call them.

  Ed’s support means so much. I’m painting on the side while working at the mall and couldn’t be happier. Life is perfect right now. Absolutely perfect. Nothing can change that.

  “Thanks, honey. How are you doing on donations?”

  “We haven’t counted but I think pretty well.” The coffee is on donation only today. Most people are paying five dollars a cup, whether it’s a plain coffee, a blended drink, or a macchiato. The Humane Society will be so pleased with the money raised.

  “I better get back to the counter.” Ed tells me as the line deepens. The café hasn’t seen a turnout like this in months. I hope this is a sign of future business.

  “Make sure you have enough. And don’t spill any.” I love that this will forever be our secret joke. It’s a great memory we’ll always share. Maybe one day tell our kids. Or grandkids.

  He returns to the counter, and I already miss him. I never thought I could be this happy, this content. As much as I want to move on with my career, I would be happy at a standstill as long as Ed is with me.

  A yawn travels and I let it out, exhausted from the day already. A few more hours to go before we wrap up the day. I can do this. Hannah is supposed to help me but she’s running late. I check my phone again, and she promises she’ll be here in fifteen minutes. Good. I haven’t eaten yet and that will give me a few minutes to sneak out and grab something.

  A red bubble alerts me to a notification on my Craigslist app. I haven’t logged into the app since I met Ed. I probably should have deleted it. Chances are it’s a community message sent to everyone, a terms and conditions change or something like that. I’ll clear out the notification (I can’t stand them on my phone) and then delete my account and app. I have no use for it anymore.

  I click on the app and the notifications button. This isn’t a community wide message. It’s from someone with a username of PkrFn2016. I click on the message.

  Hi. My name is Stephen and I came across your ad the other day. I have been looking for you as well and didn’t know where to start. My friend suggested I check here and as luck would have it you posted something. It’s been a couple of months so I don’t know if you’ll even get this. I doubt you’ll be waiting at the Redbox. At least I hope you didn’t wait that long, but maybe you’re still waiting for me. I’m sorry about that jerk at the club that night and I really would like to get together. You ran off so quickly and I hoped every weekend I would see you there again. Anyway, if you’re still interested meet me up at the Redbox. The same one. I’ll be there Saturday, August 6th at 3:30.

  What the hell? Is this some sort of joke? This can’t be right. Ed is the one who saved me that night. I can’t believe someone would stoop so low as to respond to my message and pretend to be Ed. There are plenty of ways to meet people online other than roping in on someone else’s fairy tale.

  But now that I think about it, Ed never mentions that night. When I do bring it up he either brushes past it or seems confused. Could this Stephen guy be the one I was supposed to meet? Did Ed lie to me?

  No. That can’t be right. That day in May, Ed showed up. He stepped through those doors. These past few months he’s been the one I’ve been falling in love with. We’re meant to be together. Fate brought us together that night, and it’s kept us together. No. This Stephen guy is lying.

  My throat tightens as I think maybe he’s not. I grip my phone in my hand so tightly I loosen up in fear I may break it more than it already is. I must talk to Ed. He’ll put to ease any doubt that’s in my mind right now.

  The buzzing of people talking surrounds me, but I can’t find Ed. I search through the crowd, and when he approaches me, he feels like a stranger.

  “Are you okay, Whitney? You’re pale.”

  He reaches for my arm, but I pull back. I don’t want to be touched right now. I want answers. I want the truth. “I’m fine.” He frowns and those normally bright, clear sky eyes are graying as the clouds come in. “I’m lying. I’m not okay. We need to talk.”

  He stands beside me, a puzzled look on his face. He wants to say something but doesn’t.

  “Now.”

  Leann eyeballs Ed from behind the counter, and she knows he’s in trouble. She doesn’t say anything as he walks back to my station with me.

  “What’s the matter, honey?”

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  My lip quivers as my mind rolls back the past few months with Ed. The first kiss on the tower, the texts sent that night from the Uber, that night at his place. I don’t want it to be true. I don’t want Stephen to be real. I’ve fallen for Ed and he’s who I’m supposed to be with. “I’m going to ask you something and I want the honest to God truth.”

  “Of course. What’s wrong, Whitney? You’re really scaring me.”

  “Why were you at the Redbox that day?”

  “What?”

  “The Redbox. In May. Why were you there?”

  He cocks his head and furrows his brow. “To rent a movie. Isn’t that why people normally go to one?” He’s serious. He’s being totally, one-hundred percent serious.

  I’ve been punched in the gut. And the chest. My heart drops into the pit of my stomach, and I think I’m going to be sick. “Oh my God.” I press my hands to my cheeks and as they slide down my mouth drops open.

  “What? Is everything okay?” Ed tries to touch my arm but I shove him away.

  I’m warm and everything is in doubles. Two counters. Two easels. Two Eds. I can’t hear anything but my heart pounding at a dangerous rate against my chest. I touch my hand to my heart. “It wasn’t you that night
at the club.”

  “The club? What club?”

  “It wasn’t you.” I can’t stop repeating myself, and as I do, I keep backing up until I’m in a corner. In my fantasy world, Ed would be pulling me to him telling everyone no one puts me in the corner like Baby in Dirty Dancing but right now this is where I belong. The corner. Alone.

  “Whitney, you need to explain. What wasn’t me?” He steps closer but doesn’t touch me, knowing very well I’ll deny him. “What’s going on?”

  “I placed that ad for you, or whoever it was, to meet me at the Redbox. I thought you saved me that night. I thought you were my hero.” The tears are falling now, and my voice is shaking as I speak. Okay, so Ed isn’t technically the guy I thought he was, but he’s still the man of my dreams, isn’t he? I’ve been living these past few months under the impression he was someone else. He may not be that guy. Regardless, he’s burrowed his way into my heart.

  Ed moves slowly to put his arms on my shoulders. I’m frozen. I want him to touch me, but at the same time, I want him to leave me alone.

  “Whitney, you’re not making any sense.”

  “At the Redbox that day.” I gaze beyond him, transporting myself back into the nightclub. “ I went there to meet that guy.”

  “What guy?”

  “The one who stopped that other guy from hitting me..”

  “What? Who tried to hit you?” Ed’s voice thickens with anger, demanding answers I thought he already knew. If he had been there, I don’t doubt he would have tried to save me. That doesn’t change the fact that it wasn’t him and the real guy is waiting for me.

  “It was supposed to be you, Ed.” I can’t believe I’ve been so blind. I’ve always said Ed wasn’t the type to go to a club. It turns out I was right. He’s not, and he wasn’t there. I’ve made a fool out of myself. All those times I mentioned the club, he must’ve thought I was insane.

  “I think you need to take a deep breath. We should sit down and straighten this out.”

  I regain my focus and energy back, clearing my throat. “Yes. You’re right.” I pull a chair out from the nearest open table and sit. That feels good. I blow out a breath while Ed takes a seat across from me. “Do you believe in fate?”

  His brows furrow as I ask the question. “I never thought about it, I guess. I think people come together under certain circumstances, and they work hard at their relationship.”

  “Not just relationships, Ed. Everything. Do you believe fate plays a part in who you are, what you’re doing, where you live? All of it.” My grandma thought my grandpa was sent to her from angels, angels who had been watching her suffer through the death of her parents, knowing she needed the support of someone. Grandpa was that someone who pulled her through. That was fate.

  He presses his lips together, scratching his beard as he thinks about what I asked. “I suppose so, yes. I think if I hadn’t gone to rent a movie that night, we may never have ended up together.” He reaches his hand across the table and takes a hold of mine. I don’t pull away. “They say that fate works in mysterious ways. I don’t want to question how or when you came into my life. All that matters is that you did.”

  His touch surges through me, and my heart tells my brain to relax. This is real. Whether he was present or not that night is beside the point. Stephen may have found me, but I found Ed in the meantime.

  “You’re incredible. I hope you know that.”

  The right side of his mouth lifts into a smile. “You’re not so bad yourself. Now, we have a fundraiser to finish.”

  As the day goes on, the crowd begins to lessen, which is expected, I think. It’s a Saturday, and people more than likely have plans. Heck, Hannah hasn’t even bothered to show up yet, and it’s nearly three o’clock, almost two hours after she said she’d arrive in fifteen minutes. Knowing her, she got caught up in doing her hair or reapplying her makeup. I love the girl, but she’s anything but reliable when it comes to time. Except work. She’s never late there, and it’s the only place I am, and she gives me crap about it.

  I jump when Ed sneaks up behind me and kisses my neck. “Thank you for doing this.”

  I spin around and scratch my lip on his beard before I meet his lips. “I’m happy you decided to go for it. I think this will bring you a lot of business, and we raised money for a good cause. A win-win.”

  He cocks his head from side to side. “Eh, a win, maybe, but I don’t think it will be a win-win.”

  I pull away, sliding my hands down from his neck onto his forearms. “What do you mean?”

  His arms fall to his sides. “The fundraiser was awesome. People came out and drank coffee. They mingled and laughed. They donated money to the Humane Society.”

  “Yeah. That was the point. And they’ll come back for coffee all the time now because now they know how amazing this place is.”

  Our eyes meet, and he’s frowning now. “Look, I appreciate you trying to do this for me, but I’m not confident this will do anything. Long-term customers would be great, but this is a small town, and I can’t offer all he things other shops do, like a drive-through or longer hours. One fundraiser isn’t going to make the difference. I’m happy to support your cause, but the shop is the one that needs supporting, and for more than only one day.” He touches his hand to my cheek and runs his finger down my jawline. “Thank you for trying, but I’m sure closing eventually is inevitable. You understand that, right?”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Where’s the Ed that promised me he’d follow his dreams along with me? Where’s the man that kissed me on the beach, bringing me a hope that otherwise would have been lost? “Okay. Yeah. I guess.” I pull out my phone and pretend to check the time. “I better get going. I’m meeting Hannah soon.”

  “Oh. I thought she was coming here?”

  “She planned to, but she texted me earlier to hook up at the mall.” Sure, it’s a lie, but I don’t know how to transition this conversation. Why is he suddenly doubting the power of this? Why is he going back on everything we discussed?

  “Okay.” He plants a kiss on the top of my head like I’m a little girl. “Thanks again. For everything.”

  I nod and tell him I’ll call him later before heading out to my car. I open the door and the second my foot hits the sidewalk, Hannah is bouncing from her car.

  “Whitney! I’m so sorry. I—”

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” I slide past her with one goal in mind—get in my car and drive. Drive anywhere but here. Ed’s sudden change of heart confuses me. How can he suddenly think this was all for nothing? He’s so quick to discount our efforts and throw in the towel. Would he do the same for our relationship? I thought we were in this together.

  “Whitney, wait!” She picks up the pace behind me in her heels. “Ow!”

  I halt when she yells, turn around, and she’s grabbing her ankle. “Are you okay?” I race toward her. If I weren’t running, she wouldn’t have twisted her ankle. This is all my fault.

  When I reach her, she stands up straight and throws her hands in the air. “Gotcha!”

  What the hell? Who does that? “I could kill you!” I lurch at her, and she pulls back.

  “Now I have your attention. Tell me what the hell is going on. You’re racing out of here like someone just told you your cat died.”

  “Sorry. I … Ed’s not the person I thought he was. I want to leave.”

  “What do you mean? Is he an Avenger or something? That’d be pretty cool.”

  I dart my eyes at Hannah. “I’m being serious here.”

  “Me, too. If Ed turned out to be Thor, I wouldn’t exactly be disappointed.”

  I glare at her, and she finally gets the hint I’m not in the mood.

  “My car’s right here. Hop in.” She takes a few step toward her car and opens the door for me. “Let’s chat.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hannah and I sit in her car in front of the café. I haven’t spoken a word, and I don’t know if I want to laugh o
r cry. Was I a fool to think this would work? Maybe the fundraiser was a bad idea.

  “Do you mind telling me what’s happening? I’m sorry I’m late, but I didn’t quite expect this reaction. Didn’t the fundraiser go well?”

  She deserves an explanation. It’s not fair to leave her hanging, wondering why I’m upset. If the situation were reversed, I’d want her to confide in me. “No, it was great. We raised a lot of money.”

  “Okay…”

  I can see into the coffee shop window, and Ed’s behind the register, counting money. It’s hard to believe that a few hours ago I thought he was on board with the plan, and saw a future with us and the café. Now I wonder what it was all for.

  “Ed doesn’t think the fundraiser will do anything. He still plans on closing the café eventually.”

  “Oh.” She nods. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry, Whit.”

  I shrug. “What can I do? I think he’s crazy. He seemed to think the fundraiser was an incredible idea. Back when we came up with it, he loved it, and he said he’d give it a shot as long as I gave my dreams a shot, too.” I think I’m doing that. I’m painting, at least. I’m not making a career of it or anything, but I’m doing it.

  “Well, you can’t force him to keep it open.”

  “I know that. And I don’t think his intent is to sell it right away. It sounds as though he may give it some time.”

  “Then give him that time.”

  That’s all we have—time. Time to wait. Time to watch things come together or fall apart. Time to waste. Am I wasting my time with Ed? “He’s not the guy from Vogue, either.”

  “He’s not?”

  “Nope.” I hand her my phone after I bring up the message from Stephen. “Read this.”

  I hold my breath as she reads the note. Her eyes don’t widen, her mouth doesn’t drop open. When she’s done, she presses the Home button and gives me back my cell.

  “Big deal. So it wasn’t Ed. But you have him now, so who cares about this Stephen guy?”