by Susannah Nix
She knew better. She had her routines for a reason.
When Penny first moved to Los Angeles, after she discovered the boyfriend she’d left her perfectly happy life in Washington, DC, for was cheating on her, she’d fallen into a little bit of a depression.
Her degree was in chemical engineering, but she worked as an examiner for the US Patent Office and had applied for a telecommuting position so she could follow that rat Brendon to the West Coast. There she’d been, all alone in a strange new city with a broken heart and a job that didn’t require her to leave her apartment.
The thing Penny hadn’t realized until after she locked herself into a work-from-home position was that she needed a routine and regular social interaction in her life. She was a people person, and she didn’t do well cooped up in an apartment all day with no one but herself to talk to.
So she’d joined a gym. And a knitting group. And a book club. Signed up for a yoga class and a spin class and a weight training class. Started volunteering at a nursing home on Sundays and as a Planned Parenthood escort one or two Saturdays a month. And she made herself a rule that every single morning she had to shower, put on real clothes and makeup, and leave the house at least once. Which was when she’d incorporated the daily coffee breaks at Antidote into her routine.
Penny’s Monday spin class started in half an hour. She just had to brush her teeth, change into workout clothes, and get in her car. Once she got to the gym, it would get easier. Her competitive instincts would kick in as soon as she got on the bike, and there’d be music to cheer her up. The exercise would make her feel better about herself, and that would make her feel better about everything else.
With a bone-deep sigh, she threw back the covers and pushed herself to her feet.
An hour later, sweaty and humming a Jackson Five song, she let herself back into her apartment feeling at least fifty percent better. It had been Motown day, which was always a guaranteed mood elevator. Plus, she’d beaten her previous energy output record and helped her team take first place. So far, her plan was going well.
After a shower and a breakfast of yogurt and fresh fruit, she sat down at the computer in her home office and opened a new patent application. This one was for a composite shoe insole, and after familiarizing herself with the specification, she spent the morning scouring government databases for older patents and scientific journal articles pertinent to the technology.
When her usual break time rolled around, she was still in a pretty good mood, even after three straight hours researching methods of curing composite materials for use in orthotic insoles. But as she logged out and stretched her legs, a tremor of unease ran through her at the thought of going to Antidote.
It was the site of her humiliation. Hottie Barista would probably be there, and for once, she didn’t look forward to seeing his devastatingly handsome face. She still resented that he’d known her boyfriend was cheating on her and said nothing. He’d just let her go on seeing Kenneth, knowing she was going to get hurt.
Hottie Barista was kind of a jerk, as it turned out.
Far worse was the very real possibility she’d see Kenneth there. His office was just down the street, and he knew what time she went for coffee every day. If he wanted to force a conversation, Antidote would be a convenient place to do it. She’d half expected him to show up at her apartment over the weekend, but he might be waiting for today so he could ambush her in public, knowing she wouldn’t want to make a scene. That would be just like him.
She pondered skipping the trip to Antidote this morning. It wasn’t like she had to go out for coffee. She owned a perfectly good coffeemaker. She could take her break here at home. Surf the internet or watch some TV for an hour.
Bad idea.
Once Penny gave herself permission to sit around watching TV in the middle of the day, it would be difficult to go back to work afterward. She needed to leave her apartment and be around people for a while.
Fine. What if she went somewhere other than Antidote? There was a Coffee Bean not far away. She could go there instead.
But she didn’t want to change coffee shops. She loved Antidote. It was her Cheers, where everybody knew her name. Kenneth shouldn’t get to take that away from her. How was that fair when he was the villain? He should have to find a new favorite coffee place, not her.
To heck with Kenneth. And to heck with Hottie Barista too. Penny was sick and tired of rearranging her life to accommodate men. She was going to Antidote.
It was a beautiful April day when she stepped out of her apartment. The marine layer had burned off leaving behind a glistening blue sky and a crisp breeze. The walk to Antidote only took ten minutes. Her stride started out brisk and confident, but grew slower the closer she got to her destination. By the time she drew within sight of the building, she was dragging her feet like a recalcitrant toddler.
No one had seen her yet—it wasn’t too late to fake her own death and start over with an alias in a new city. Or maybe just find another coffee shop to hang out in.
Her mother’s voice popped into her head, telling her that was coward talk.
Penny wasn’t a coward. She straightened her spine and pulled open the door, determined to face both Kenneth and Hottie Barista with her head held high.
After all that, there was no sign of either of them. Instead of Hottie Barista, the new girl, Elyse, stood alone behind the counter, looking overwhelmed. Penny let out a relieved breath and got in line.
Elyse was small framed with short hair and big round eyes set in a heart-shaped face, giving her a pixie-ish appearance. “Did you want any syrup in your skinny vanilla latte?” she asked the woman in front of Penny.
“Vanilla…?” the woman replied, sounding confused.
Elyse had only started working at Antidote last week. She was young—a sophomore in college—and her only prior experience had been at the coffee stand on campus, which had apparently not offered a broad selection of authentic espresso drinks.
Penny was only twenty-five herself, but college students looked positively fetal to her these days. All shiny and new, untarnished by the pressures of adult life. It felt like a hundred years ago to her instead of only three.
It took Elyse nearly five minutes to make the poor woman’s skinny vanilla. She had to throw the first one out and start over when she forgot to use the sugar-free syrup. Penny waited patiently until it was her turn to order, in no hurry.
Elyse finally greeted her without enthusiasm. “Morning. What can I get you?”
“She always gets the same thing,” Caleb said, coming out of the kitchen with a tray of clean dishes. “Regular nonfat latte. Ring her up and I’ll make it.”
Penny froze at the sight of him. Six gorgeous feet of tanned skin and muscles topped by thick golden hair and a face so beautifully symmetrical it stopped you right in your tracks. Perfectly proportioned nose. Strong chin. Granite jaw. And then there was the matter of his eyes, which were a gold-tinged brown so striking it felt like they were looking straight into your soul.
There was a reason Penny’s knitting group called him Hottie Barista. The man was supernaturally handsome. He looked like he should be followed around by a key light and a menagerie of cartoon animals.
The first time Penny had seen him he’d rendered her so tongue-tied and breathless, it had been all she could do to blurt out her coffee order. But over the intervening months, she’d gotten more used to looking at him. She still deeply appreciated the view, but he didn’t steal the air from her lungs anymore. He was a part of the scenery now, like a majestic vista she was lucky enough to gaze upon every day.
His eyes sought hers, which in and of itself was unusual. He almost never made eye contact. Or smiled. Or made conversation. It was part of his mystique.
Penny was a naturally friendly person. Her open, sympathetic demeanor invited confidences wherever she went. She couldn’t get on an airplane or sit in a waiting room without hearing the life story of the person next to her, which was fine
with her because she loved talking to people. She’d never met a stranger she couldn’t befriend—until Caleb.
Apparently, he was too cool to make small talk with her. All she’d ever gotten out of him was disinterested monosyllables and shrugs. It wasn’t like she’d been flirting with him either. She was aware that her chances with a man of his physical perfection were approximately infinity to one.
She liked to think of herself as pleasingly plump, like Nancy Drew’s best friend Bess, even though she knew there wasn’t any such thing as “pleasingly” plump as far as most people were concerned. Especially not in LA, where almost everyone walked around looking like runway models.
Penny had been fat all her life, and she’d tried everything to lose weight. Any fad diet or exercise craze you could name, she’d tried it, even though she knew better. She was a scientist; she knew bad data and specious claims when she saw them. But she’d been so desperate to look like everyone else, she’d ignored her own better judgment in her quest to be thin.
Until one fad diet too many had left her with a vitamin deficiency and borderline blood glucose levels that had caused a scary fainting incident and landed her in the emergency room her sophomore year of college. A very nice female doctor had sat her down and explained that she was doing more harm to her body than good, and she would be much better off eating a well-balanced diet and throwing her scale in the dumpster.
Ever since, Penny had been rigorous about eating healthy—actually healthy, not fad diet healthy. Once she stopped torturing her body with juice cleanses and extreme diets, her weight stabilized at her current size sixteen. This was the size her body naturally seemed to want to be, and Penny had made her peace with that.
Mostly.
The whole body positivity thing was still a work in progress. Moving to the land of free-range size 00 actresses had certainly put it to the test, but she felt like she was doing pretty well, considering. Penny was a big believer in the “fake it till you make it” theory. Pretend you have self-esteem long enough, and eventually you’ll actually have self-esteem.
Regardless, she had no illusions about her chances with a man like Caleb, so she was always careful to keep her overtures polite and platonic. She didn’t want him to think she was like all the other women who came into Antidote and tried to flirt with him—women whose overtures he ignored just as determinedly as he ignored Penny’s, no matter how attractive they were.
Maybe he was gay. Or had a girlfriend. Still, it had always bothered her that he was so determined not to talk to her. She was delightful, darn it. Everyone else wanted to talk to her. But no matter how many times she came in here, how unfailingly polite she was or how well she tipped, she’d always gotten the same bland indifference from him as everyone else.
Until he’d come into the bathroom to check on her Friday night. And now he was staring directly at her with those piercing eyes and his forehead all creased in concern. Like he was looking at someone who’d received a terminal diagnosis.
Penny felt the blood rushing to her cheeks and tore her gaze away, fumbling with her wallet. She could still feel his eyes on her as Elyse rang her up. Why was he just standing there? Wasn’t he going to make her drink?
“Your name’s Penelope Popplestone?” Elyse said, squinting at Penny’s credit card. “For real?”
Penny smiled reflexively and nodded. “For real.”
“Badass. That sounds like a character in a children’s book.”
It took Elyse three tries to swipe Penny’s card, and Caleb stood there the whole time. Just staring at her. It was unsettling. Finally, Elyse mastered the credit card machine and it spit out a receipt.
“Tables need busing,” Caleb told Elyse as she shoved Penny’s card and receipt at her. Elyse nodded and grabbed a rag, leaving Penny and Caleb alone at the counter.
Penny cleared her throat. “Can I have a pen?” Elyse had forgotten to give her one.
Caleb grabbed a ballpoint from the cup behind the register and held it out to her. He had neatly trimmed nails and callused fingers, like a man who knew how to use his hands.
Penny swallowed and took the pen from him, her heart thudding painfully in her chest as their fingers touched.
Stop it, she told herself as she clenched the pen. He’s just a pretty jerk. She scrawled the tip and her signature and thrust the receipt back across the counter.
“How are you?” Caleb asked before Penny could make her escape.
“I’m fine,” she replied without meeting his eye. Why did he have to suddenly be friendly today? She’d spent months fruitlessly trying to make small talk with him, but it wasn’t until she’d been rendered pathetic and pitiable that he was finally interested in having a conversation. Figured.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what Kenneth was up to.”
Penny shrugged like she wasn’t still bitter about it. “It’s not your job to police my boyfriends for me.”
It’s your job to make my coffee order, she thought silently, wishing he would go and do it. He was the next to last person in the world she wanted to talk to right now—the absolute last being Kenneth.
“I could have warned you though.”
She forced a smile. “It’s fine.” She tried to imbue the words with sincerity so he’d stop looking at her like she was dying of a brain tumor, but they came out sounding flat.
“I didn’t think it was any of my business.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” She meant it to sound nicer than it came out. Really, she did. But at least it got her out of that awkward conversation, because Caleb finally headed for the espresso machine to start making her latte.
Penny moved down the counter to claim her usual spot toward the back. She would have preferred to sit at one of the tables on the other side of the room today, as far away from Caleb as possible, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of thinking he was important enough to make her uncomfortable. If she wasn’t willing to change her routine to avoid Kenneth, she definitely wasn’t changing it because of some barista she hardly knew.
“Morning, Penny!” Charlotte called out from the orange couch in the corner.
Penny swiveled on her stool, brightening. “Good morning!”
Charlotte was a regular at Antidote like Penny. She was a philosophy grad student with a wispy beard and a bright green streak in her blonde hair. Today she was wearing a polka dot dress with bright pink tights and green high-top sneakers, and she was surrounded by stacks of papers and books.
“Sorry to hear about your boyfriend.”
Penny groaned. “Does everybody know already?”
“Roxanne told me. You could do so much better than that guy. I always thought so.”
“Thank you,” Penny said. “I guess.” It wasn’t like there was a line around the block of disappointed lovers she’d rejected in favor of cheating jerks. The cheating jerks were the only options presenting themselves.
Charlotte seemed like she had a lot of work to do, so Penny turned back around and got out her phone. She’d sit here for fifteen minutes and drink her coffee, then she could go. That would be enough time to prove she wasn’t afraid to show her face.
Caleb brought her latte over a few minutes later and retreated without a word. Good, he was back to ignoring her. That was exactly what she wanted. For things to go back to normal.
He’d made a heart-shaped flower design in the foam today instead of his usual leaf, but she chose not to read anything into it. Hearts were a common theme in latte art. They were probably the easiest shape to make. Still, it was pretty. She swiped to the camera app on her phone to take a picture—but only because it would look good on her Instagram. Not because she was at all charmed or impressed by Caleb’s latte art.
As she was deliberating over the best photo filter, she heard the bell on the shop door ring.
“Penny, thank God,” Kenneth said behind her. “I’ve been trying to call you all weekend.”
Chapter Three
Penny continu
ed swiping through Instagram filters without looking up at Kenneth. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
He was close enough she could smell his Armani cologne. She should have known better than to date a man who wore cologne.
“Please, darling, let me explain.” He slid onto the nearest stool, brushing his leg up against hers.
She shifted her leg away, still refusing to look at him. “There’s nothing to explain. You wanted to see other women without telling me about it. I understand the situation perfectly.”
His hand closed on her forearm. “I’m so sorry. I messed up. It was a terrible mistake. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”
She pulled out of his grasp. “I’m not interested in dating someone who would lie to me. Now please go away.”
“You’re being unfair. At least give me a chance to explain.”
“Can I help you?” Caleb asked, looming over Kenneth. He held a freshly made iced coffee, and though his tone was neutral, his nearness and physical mass carried an implicit threat.
Kenneth gave him an irritated glance. “No, mate. I’m trying to have a private conversation, if you don’t mind.”
Caleb didn’t move. “It sounds like she doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Kenneth got to his feet, jutting out his chin like a terrier with an unfortunate underbite. “I don’t see how it’s any of your damned business.” Caleb had a good four inches on him and at least thirty pounds of muscle mass, which didn’t help Kenneth look any less ludicrous.
“It’s my business to make sure no one’s harassing any of our customers,” Caleb said calmly. “You’re not doing that, are you?”
“The only one being harassed is me, while I’m having a simple conversation with my girlfriend.”
“Ex-girlfriend,” Penny muttered through clenched teeth.
Had Kenneth always been this petulant? She was finding it difficult to remember what she’d ever liked about him in the first place. Had she just been dazzled by his British accent?