Table Of Contents
Other books in The Midnight Coffee Series
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
About Emma SternerRadley
Other Books from Ylva Publishing
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www.ylva-publishing.com
Other books in
The Midnight Coffee Series
Long-Distance Coffee
Coffee and Conclusions (Coming January 2018)
Dedication
This is for Swen.
Acknowledgments
First, I want to thank all the members of Swen for reading this story and, to my surprise, falling in love with it. You inspired it, fueled it, and made me believe I could be an author. This book wouldn’t be here without you all!
Second, thank you to my amazing wife, Amanda, for saying, “Hey, why don’t you try to write a romance? I bet you can if you really try.” And for beta reading and supporting this romance she made me write.
I also need to thank Astrid and everyone at Ylva Publishing for wanting to publish it. Huge thanks to the editors who worked on this book, especially Andrea Bramhall. Andrea—thank you for going beyond being midwife and grandparent of this book by adding vodka aunt to the mix, too. You’ve poured a lot of your time and writing skills into this book, and I’m so grateful.
Before the professionals got their hands on it, two unpaid heroes helped out. Rebecca Fischer did a great job of beta reading and teaching me how things work in the US, while Eliana R. (5TenDays) helped with the Spanish phrases and checked that I got the references to Latinx culture right. Any mistakes that remain are solely mine (and were probably added after these two lovely ladies read the story.)
Additional thanks to HelveticaBrown for the song choice and to Lee Winter for the name of the FitWatch 9000.
This book needed you all.
Last but certainly not least, endless thanks to my long-suffering, loving family: Mamma, Pappa, Anna, Torbjörn, Oscar, Victor, and Ester. I hope you will see the sexy scenes coming and skip them. Or at least tell me you did. Seriously, it will make Christmas dinner a lot less awkward.
And, as always, in loving memory of
Malin Sterner
1973-2011
Jag saknar dig.
Chapter 1
Erin Black Can’t Sleep
It was late, and she wished she had something to do. She picked off a strand of long, blonde hair that had stuck to her sweater. Erin prided herself on her hair, even though it wasn’t very practical for a personal trainer who spent most of their time sweating in a gym.
She was standing by the window and moved her gaze out to the narrow, littered street below. It looked freezing out there, and it probably was. February in New York was always bitterly cold. Two middle-aged women staggered out from the Irish pub across the street and huddled together, as they laughed and stumbled their way down toward the avenue.
She sighed and turned around. The only light source in the dingy apartment was the bluish glow from her laptop standing on the table which served as both eating place and desk. Twitter was open. Erin had just started following an actor she had loved as a kid. It turned out that he was now a bitter old man, complaining about the lack of manners and the complacency of America’s youth.
Erin sat down and scrolled through his timeline. Her bored expression moved a little toward interest, as she saw what had clearly been a dispute between the aging actor and someone who called themselves The_Apple_Core. Erin clicked view conversation to see what had been said. Apparently, her faded childhood hero had alleged women were too sensitive about jokes these days and seemed to think everything they didn’t like was misogyny. The_Apple_Core had pointed out that they found that opinion to be misogynist and him to be “a washed-up embarrassment with the manners of a rhino.”
Erin snorted out a laugh, which echoed though her quiet apartment.
The conversation between the two combatants continued, and Erin was impressed to see that, while her former childhood hero became more and more aggressive and insulting, his opponent did not. The_Apple_Core stuck to intelligent but snide remarks and made quite a few points about misogyny, respect, and seeing things from someone else’s point of view. All of that was lost on the actor, but not on Erin. She clicked on the name and read the bio.
Sarcastic to the (apple) core. Mother of one. Writer. Latina. Moody. I live in Florida, and the sunshine and the cheerfulness is nearly killing me. Send help. And black coffee.
Erin smiled to herself as she clicked follow. She read through some of the tweets, some that made her laugh and some that made her think.
She looked at the button marked Tweet to The_Apple_Core. Had she been fully rested and in possession of the common sense that accompanied daylight, she probably wouldn’t have clicked. But it was 12:52 p.m. on a Thursday night, and she knew that her insomnia was going to keep her up for at least another three to four hours, just like it had every other night for the last few months. She clicked and thought for a couple of moments about what to write.
@The_Apple_Core Hey! I just wanted to thank you for explaining a few things to Dicky McActor earlier. I can’t believe I had a T-shirt with his face on when I was 12!
She cursed loudly, as she realized it was too long. Damn Twitter and its 140-character limit. She started to fiddle with the message.
@The_Apple_Core Wanted 2 thank you 4 explaining a few things to Dicky McActor. Can’t believe I had a T-shirt with his face on when I was 12!
It wasn’t Hemingway, but it would do. She rolled her shoulders and looked down at her mug of cold coffee. She got up to pour herself a hot refill from the full pot she always made before starting her long, wakeful nights.
Of course, she knew she shouldn’t. Caffeine was sleep’s worst enemy. But she’d tried everything to combat her sleeplessness: cutting out all caffeine, additional exercise, better diet, herbal teas of all kinds, relaxation techniques, meditation, massage…even going to a doctor. So far, the only thing that helped was heavy sleeping pills, and they made her feel numb and drowsy the following day. She’d rather be tired and cranky than walk into walls and be spacey all day. So, yeah, she allowed herself the caffeine. If she had to be up, she might as well be feeling human throughout the night.
She took a sip of the strong brew. The little heat sting on her lips was nothing compared with how the acidic liquid was going to burn her stomach lining. She was usually very health conscious, she had to be as a personal trainer—so she felt she could allow herself one little, body-torturing vice.
Her laptop made a muted little noise. She always kept the sound low so as not to bother the neighbors. She walked over to check her e-mails and found a Twitter notification. The_Apple_Core had replied.
Erin gave a surprised little “huh,” before remembering that Florida was in the same time zone as New York and that it wasn’t that late there. Still, it was a bit late for a mom to be up. Maybe not so late for a writer. Didn’t those creative people keep weird hours? She clicked the Twitter link and read.
> @BuffBlonde83 He needed a long cold-facts-and-common-sense shower. I’m sure he didn’t even grasp half of it, though.
Erin smiled again and bit her lower lip, as she considered her reply.
@The_Apple_Core Probably not. But hopefully, some of his followers did. Maybe you made a current 12-year-old throw HER T-shirt away.
A reply came in quickly. Clearly this writer chick was quick at typing.
@BuffBlonde83 I don’t care about their apparel, but if I made them think for themselves, then I am proud of my work here tonight.
Keen to keep up the same pace and carry on the conversation, Erin didn’t think twice before answering.
@The_Apple_Core You should be! If not because you educated the kids, then because you smacking that asshole down really made my night. ;-)
It was only after she had clicked send that she realized this reply might seem a little too…flirty? “You made my night.” And then the winking smiley. Was that okay to say to a stranger online? Shit. Could she not be such a huge gay for two seconds and have a conversation with a woman without borderline flirting?
The next reply took longer to come in. Erin sighed before rolling her shoulders again. She had just resigned herself to deciding she had been too friendly, too fast and had scared her conversation partner off.
@BuffBlonde83 Then my night hasn’t been wasted. Speaking of nights, shouldn’t you be asleep?
With a smile, Erin quickly typed back.
@The_Apple_Core Yeah, I have work tomorrow morning, so I should. But insomnia is a bitch and has me totally whipped. Why are you up?
There was a moment’s pause during which Erin ran her hand through her tousled blonde hair.
@BuffBlonde83 Sleep is a luxury for people without babies. Mine wakes every two hours. I might as well be awake and nap with him tomorrow.
Erin whistled low to herself, happy that she’d decided against having kids. Not that anyone had ever offered to have them with her. Most of her girlfriends hadn’t stuck around long enough for the topic to even come up.
@The_Apple_Core Ouch! I know some kids don’t sleep, but he sounds like a bad case. Is he an insomniac like me?
There was a long break again, and Erin wondered if she had done her usual trick of putting her foot in it. Had she sounded like she was criticizing the kid?
@BuffBlonde83 No, not really. However, I’m sure that anyone not knee-deep in the world of babies would be bored with hearing the details.
Erin tilted her head and thought. She knew nothing about babies. But she was bored stiff, and this woman seemed interesting. She could always bail if the baby talk got dull.
@The_Apple_Core I can’t sleep, and I’m tired of watching TV or scrolling through Twitter. Try me.
@BuffBlonde83 Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. He has problems with his tummy & the pain wakes him. The doctor said he will grow out of it.
Erin swallowed a mouthful of coffee before replying.
@The_Apple_Core Poor little dude! Think it’s stress related? Has he got a lot to do at work? Bills to pay?
As soon as she pressed Tweet, Erin wondered if her joke would go over well. What if this woman thought she was mocking her son’s pain and lack of sleep? The reply took a while, and Erin wondered if she was more invested in this chat to a stranger than she ought to be. Shit, I must be getting lonely, she thought. Finally, her laptop quietly pinged.
@BuffBlonde83 I don’t know. Does that usually cause intestinal gas and sometimes vomiting up your milk?
Erin snorted into the coffee she was drinking.
@The_Apple_Core Wouldn’t know, never had an ulcer. Maybe he should cut down on the coffee? ;-)
@BuffBlonde83 The only coffee he gets is from my milk. I only allow myself two small cups a day, though, to limit the caffeine transfer.
Erin blinked a couple of times. Whoa, we’re actually talking about her breast milk? This chick’s certainly not shy, she mused. Before Erin had time to reply, there was another tweet.
@BuffBlonde83 I suppose you are now going to lecture me on drinking coffee while breastfeeding and about keeping a healthy diet?
Erin saw the defensiveness and chuckled. People always assumed that because of her profession she would judge their eating habits and their exercise regime, or lack thereof. The truth was that Erin knew what people should do, but as she did not always do so herself, she tried not to throw stones from inside her glass house.
@The_Apple_Core I don’t judge. And, anyway, I couldn’t live without coffee, so I don’t blame you. Plus, you’ll get him into coffee early. Kudos!
@BuffBlonde83 Oh, thank God. I couldn’t stand another lecture on what to do with my non-sleeping baby right now. Are you a coffee fan too?
Erin looked down at her now empty coffee mug.
@The_Apple_Core Yeah, against my own advice, I drink buckets of the stuff. It’s probably gonna kill me one day.
@BuffBlonde83 We all have to die somehow. There are worse poisons. I hear moms complaining about giving up alcohol, but that was easy for me.
Another tweet came in right away, and Erin was again impressed by how fast this woman typed, not to mention the lack of typos.
@BuffBlonde83 So was giving up the seafood and other foodstuffs that are bad during pregnancy and breastfeeding. But coffee is a must.
Erin wondered why this mom was so defensive. Was it because she was—according to her Twitter bio—a first-time mom, or was it just in her personality?
@The_Apple_Core It sounds like you are doing fine, but I know nothing about kids. What kind of coffee do you like?
Erin was expecting a brand she knew, as she had tried every kind available in her local grocery store. She had even gone down to an organic, fair-trade shop to buy really pricey coffee, which in the end, tasted like crap.
@BuffBlonde83 It’s called Azúcar Negra. The coffee beans are dried and stored with burnt sugar & take up the taste from that. That’s the theory anyway.
Erin frowned, as she typed out a reply.
@The_Apple_Core Never heard of it. Some kinda exotic import stuff?
@BuffBlonde83 Afraid so. Call me pretentious, but it tastes amazing, and when you can only have a little, you certainly want those cups to count.
Erin grinned, unable to resist taking the bait.
@The_Apple_Core Okay, you’re pretentious. ;-) Makes sense, tho. Where’d you get it?
@BuffBlonde83 I order it online, and it ships from Guatemala. It’s pricey but certainly worth it for the small quantities I have.
Erin shook her head and looked over at her coffee pot and its dark liquid.
@The_Apple_Core Well, living on my salary and forking out for a New York apartment means I don’t have money to burn. I’m sticking to Maxwell House.
@BuffBlonde83 Your loss. I have to go. Little Alberto seems to be waking up, and he’ll need me to walk around with him for a while.
Erin was disappointed. This Apple Core person was really making time go by faster. She felt guilty resenting the baby for waking up and ending the conversation early.
@The_Apple_Core Okay. Thanks for the chat. Good night and good luck with the lil’ stressed-out man.
There was no reply, but that was to be expected if her new acquaintance had rushed off to pick up a screaming baby. Erin rubbed her eyes, realizing a moment too late that she hadn’t removed her mascara and now probably looked like a panda.
She cursed under her breath and went to wash off her makeup. After that, she figured she would have to spend her upcoming sleepless hours with the TV on. Or perhaps she could watch some puppy videos YouTube. Or maybe google that weird-ass coffee that sits around in burnt sugar, she thought to herself, as she turned on the bathroom tap.
Chapter 2
Isabella Martinez Can’t Sleep
It was ten thirty at night, and the house was finally silent. Only Isabella was awake. She wished that wasn’t the case, though.
She sat under a blanket in the plush armchair she’d put in the nursery. It wa
s comfortable for long nights of snoozing, using her relatively new iPad, and rocking a fussing baby back to sleep.
She blinked her tired eyes and looked around. The small room was her and Alberto’s own safe little world. Everything smelled of Alberto and baby powder, to the point where Isabella wondered if her perfume was even detectable on her skin anymore. It didn’t matter to her, though.
At night, all that mattered was that she and Alberto both got as many moments of sleep as they could. The rest of the time, she was supposed to do housework or write. After all, she’d abandoned a lucrative career as CEO for a large catering company with franchises all over the nation for motherhood. Not that she missed her former occupation. Not really. She missed the daily social interaction, and she missed the adrenaline rush of power, even though that last thought left a bad taste in her mouth. She had never thought of herself as power hungry. That title belonged to her mother. But, yes, there had always been a certain high in being admired, being obeyed, and having the power to change things as she saw fit.
Is that how Mother feels? Is that why she does what she does? To get that rush?
She shook her head. That wasn’t the point here.
The point was that she had given it all up to have Alberto and write her novel about retellings of fairy tales, so that was what she was going to do. Even if it killed her. She had to prove she could. She had to prove to her mother that she had made the right decision.
In her mind, she heard her mother’s derisive voice mocking her wish to write. She closed her eyes tightly to rid herself of the unwanted memory.
There was a noise from the crib next to her—a little, muffled baby grunt. She waited. But, no, Alberto didn’t wake up this time. He just gave a little sigh before returning to soft, deep breaths. She relaxed and looked back to the iPad screen, which she’d turned down as dark as it could go and still be legible.
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