by C Farren
What shall I do?
She ran to the edge of the roof again. The building was only three stories, but it was still a long way down. She’d break her legs, maybe more, if she jumped. It may be better than being burned to death, but Maureen did not want more broken bones. She’d had enough of broken bones to last a lifetime.
Someone screamed from down below. It was Ginger. She was pointing at the building. Maureen was about to shout again when there was an explosion. The floor under her heaved, knocking her to her feet. Fire whooshed through the roof door. Fierce, blistering heat swept all around her, making her hair sizzle and burn.
She could only think of her cats.
Chapter 2
Two Days Earlier
Wren had sat awake all night, fretting and anxious. Today was the re-opening of the Metropolitan, her coffee store that had been bequeathed to her by a former lover. It had taken her over a month to get it ready, facing off health inspectors, suppliers, rat infestations, and a brush with a psychopath, but it was finally time. Nothing else needed to be done but open the place to the public and face either failure or ruin.
Her cats, Gracie (a small, petite Russian Grey) and Casper (a large black Maine Coon), were watching her get ready with great attentiveness. She’d tried everything in her wardrobe and nothing worked. She had to be approachable but business-like, not too formal, not too informal. She needed to wear something she didn’t mind spilling coffee on, something that wasn’t too garish and put people off. It had to be something that said she was in charge, but not an overbearing boss who wasn’t open to suggestions.
I wish Fiona could be here. I need her input.
Her angel, Fiona, was currently recuperating in Heaven after almost turning into a demon. She’d been temporarily replaced by Brock, a hunky winged Adonis with thick, luxurious blonde hair, muscles, and a smile that could crack a continent. He was nice enough, and occasionally witty, but Fiona was family, her great-grandmother. They’d been best friends. Life was a little quiet without Fiona and her bossiness.
“What do you think?” Wren asked the cats. “Will this do, or shall I just go to work in a black garbage bag?”
She had on a pair of loose-fitting blue denim jeans and a thick red sweater. It was simple and it would keep her warm.
“Well?” Wren demanded. “I notice you’re not saying anything.”
Gracie meowed and bowed her head. She liked it. Casper was indifferent. He wasn’t really into fashion.
Wren smiled and ticked Gracie, her little princess, under the chin. The poor little girl was almost fit to bursting now. She must be due within the next week. The vet had checked her over just yesterday, saying she was healthy and that Wren should stop worrying.
“Have you thought of any names yet?” Wren asked playfully.
She hadn’t decided what to do with the kittens yet. She couldn’t keep them all, but she should at least keep one. Gracie would never forgive her if she gave away all her children. But did she really have time for more cats? The business was going to keep her very busy for the foreseeable future. Would it be fair to take another cat into her care?
Her cellphone rang and she answered it. It was Benedict Treadaway, her pansexual criminal drag queen boyfriend.
He runs a few illegal card games. That’s the extent of his criminal activities. It’s not as if he’s Al Capone or anything.
“You’re up early,” he said. His deep voice soothed her. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Not really,” she answered. “It feels good to hear your voice you know.”
“My head feels like I’ve been kicked by a donkey. I’ve got a little bit of a hangover this morning. It was Lady Gaga night at the bar and things got a little rowdy. I only got in a few hours ago.”
“I wish I could’ve been there. Sounds wonderful.”
Benedict’s theme nights at his drag bar, The Good, the Bad, and the Fabulous, were so much fun. She could dress up and dance and have a good time, let loose. His New Year’s Eve party was so legendary she couldn’t remember it she was so drunk. Her best friend Keegan had assured her that she was a perfect lady throughout the night, though she didn’t believe him one bit.
“I know you had a lot on your mind,” said Benedict. “I want to wish you good luck. I know things are going to go smoothly. I believe in you.”
His confidence was very touching.
“I hope so,” she said, very emotional. “I really hope so. I’ve put so much effort into this. I don’t think I’ve worked so hard in my entire life for anything before.”
“You’re beautiful and talented and you work hard and today is going to be spectacular.”
She blushed a little. The praise made her all tingly. “You always know the right things to say to me.”
It was good to have a boyfriend again. They’d only been on a dozen or so dates, but their relationship was going swimmingly. They were perfect together.
“I saw him flying again last night,” said Benedict, his voice low.
Wren sighed. “I’ve told Brock a million times not to go flying about!”
“He always does what he wants. He doesn’t care about anyone else.”
She didn’t want this conversation again. It was two days after Christmas when Benedict turned up at her place, out of the blue, to give her a secret gift. She’d wanted more time to prepare them all for the confrontation to come, but it was not to be.
BENEDICT DROPPED HIS gift as he saw Brock standing in the doorway to the kitchen. The angel was also staring open mouthed. Wren didn’t know where to look. She felt like she’d intruded on some great dramatic scene.
“Benedict, is that you?” Brock asked. He smiled. It was genuine and full of pure joy. “You’ve really grown tall! I knew you would! I knew it!”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Benedict demanded. His face was a mask of fury. “Where’s Fiona?”
“She had to go back,” said Wren. “Long story.”
Benedict looked like he was about to explode. Brock, however, wasn’t angry. Far from it. He was looking at the other man like he’d just been reunited with a long lost relative.
There’s going to be a punch up....
“And they’ve saddled you with this?” said Benedict. He looked betrayed as he said, “Wren, this is the angel I told you about! The one who had an affair with my mother! He ruined my life!”
“I never meant to hurt anyone,” Brock said. “I loved your mother.”
“If you so much as come near me or my daughter you’ll regret it.”
He stormed out then. He obviously needed some time to calm down. Besides, it was time to judge Brock’s side of the story.
Brock lowered his head in shame. “I did fall in love with his mother, and we did have an affair. I wish I could change it but I can’t.” He looked up at her. He was so sad it broke her heart. “I loved her so much.”
“We can’t help who we fall in love with,” said Wren.
He sighed and said, “No. No we cannot.”
BROCK AND BENEDICT hadn’t seen each other since, and neither of them had brought the subject up. They acted like meeting each other again after all this time never happened. Wren knew that one day they’d have to talk and clear the air, or at least tell each other their stories, but for now she let them be.
“Wait a moment,” said Benedict. “Paula wants to talk to you.”
There was some shuffling behind the scenes.
“I want to talk to Wren!” Paula complained.
“Okay, stop shouting!” said Benedict.
Wren couldn’t help but smile. Paula was an absolute delight, an intelligent, curious child who saw the wonder in everything. If Wren could have children she’d want her child to be just like her.
“Hi Wren!” Paula shouted.
“Hi Paula,” said Wren.
“Lady Gaga came to see me last night! We sang and danced and everything!”
Wren smiled. “I thought I could hear something. You sounded like you were
having the time of your life.”
“You have to come over next time!”
“I promise I will, but you might regret it. When I sing I sound like a camel with a sneezing fit.”
Paula giggled. “Bye! I have to go to school now!”
The phone went quiet for a while until Benedict picked back up. “Paula really loves you,” Benedict told her sincerely.
Wren, a little uncomfortable, said, “She’s a wonderful kid.”
“She seems to have taken to you. I didn’t think she would. I think... I think she wants a mom.”
The words weren’t totally unexpected. She knew something like this would come along sooner or later, dating someone with a kid, but it still shook her a little.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet,” she admitted.
She felt like a monster for saying those words, but it was the truth. How could she be a mother to someone she hardly knew?
I need to change that if I want things to work with Benedict and Paula.
“That’s okay,” Benedict reassured her. “I know we’ve only been dating for a short while.”
“But I want to get to know the both of you better,” she said, resolute. “What about dinner at my place tonight?”
“Come over to mine. I’ll cook. Paula has been aching to bake you cookies for weeks.”
“Then it’s a date.”
“Anyway, good luck again. I’ll pop in and order a coffee and see how you’re doing.”
“I’d like that.”
“Wren, I...”
“I better go. See you later!”
Wren hung up before Benedict could continue his sentence. She knew what was coming and she wasn’t sure whether she was ready. When the words ‘I love you’ were exchanged it meant the relationship was venturing into serious territory.
Only one man had ever loved her, and she’d only ever loved one man. Things with Alex had ended in disaster and almost ruined her love life for all time. Benedict was changing that. But was she ready to say those three words?
“I love you,” she whispered.
She burst out laughing. It sounded odd saying it into thin air.
But do I love him?
She didn’t know, but knew she was beginning to feel something for him. Before Benedict, she didn’t think she’d ever be able to love or trust a man ever again. She didn’t think another man would ever be able to trust her. Even Becky’s vile interference with the homophobic texts hadn’t destroyed them, even if things were rocky at the time.
“I really need Fiona to talk to,” said Wren, sighing. “She’d know what to shout at me.”
Wren smiled and headed downstairs. Brock was already burning the breakfast.
“Good morning!” Brock called. “Sit down!”
Her angel was rushing around the kitchen, trying to do too much at once as usual. He had bacon in a frying pan; toast under the grill; pancakes on a griddle. All of them were burning, making the kitchen stink like a Fourth of July bonfire party. Wren couldn’t help but cough.
“Why do you insist on trying to burn my house down every morning?” Wren demanded. She poured herself a cup of black coffee. It was like molasses. “I taught you how to use the coffee maker! What’s the matter with you?”
“It’s too complicated,” said Brock, rushing to pick up the frying pan. “And I like my coffee thick.”
“You could cut this coffee with a knife,” said Wren.
He served them breakfast, a delicious buffet of burnt bacon, blackened toast, and charcoal pancakes. It was revolting.
“You don’t have to make breakfast every morning,” said Wren, heading for the bread bin. She pulled out a few stale baps. “I can make my own you know. I’m not totally useless.”
“I like making breakfast,” said Brock, chomping down on his charcoal pancakes. He grinned. “Yum. I like them well done.”
She sat down and started buttering her bap. “Fiona didn’t make breakfast every day.”
Brock didn’t answer. He didn’t like to talk about Fiona. Wren suspected he was in love with her and found it too painful to mention her name.
I miss Fiona.
“We need to have a word about your nocturnal flying habits,” said Wren. “Benedict saw you last night.”
Brock brightened up. “I’m glad he has you. He deserves to be happy.”
“What if someone sees you and informs the local news?”
He bit into some burnt toast and said something unintelligible. Wren would like to think he was promising to never go flying again, but she knew Brock enough to know that probably wasn’t true. Besides, Wren knew if she could fly she’d want to do it at every given opportunity.
“Keegan rang this morning,” said Brock. “He said he’s going to take the morning off so he can support you at the grand opening.”
“That’s nice of him,” said Wren. “You did remember to be polite, hmm?”
Keegan and his father, Sheriff Rob Fisher, had angel blood in them. When they’d met Fiona, their brains had concocted a story to come up with how they seemed familiar. When Fiona left everyone in town forgot about her. Now that she had Brock, things had more or less gone the same. Keegan and the sheriff thought Brock was a Canadian exchange student that had stayed with them when he was younger. Brock found the whole thing confusing, especially considering he didn’t know them at all.
“He talked about the time I ate all his Easter eggs,” said Brock. He stared at Fiona, still confused. “That never happened!”
“You have to go along with it,” Wren told him. “It’s for the best. He truly thinks he knows you, remember?”
“I don’t like lying. Angels shouldn’t lie.”
She ignored him. Brock was a very strict and by the numbers sort of person. Except for the flying. He refused to go out without shaving. He tried to open doors for her. He was, to all intents and purposes, a perfect gentleman. He just seemed out of place in modern society.
There was a knock on the back door and her mother let herself in. She was wearing her best dress and was decorated with a little too much make-up. She’d even had time to have her hair done.
“Good morning!” Dot declared, waltzing in. “How are you, Brock?”
“Fine, Mrs. King,” said Brock uncomfortably.
Dot laughed and put her hand on his shoulder. “I’ve told you to call me Dot. Such a silly boy.”
Wren wanted to curl up into a ball. Her mother’s outrageous flirting with Brock was making everyone uncomfortable. Poor Brock didn’t know where to look when Dot kept casually putting her hands on him and giggling like a schoolgirl.
“I thought I’d see how you’re doing this morning,” said Dot, sitting by the table. “You were nervous when we talked last night.”
“I’m fine,” said Wren. “I’m more excited than nervous now.”
“It’s going to be fine. I know it. I just wish you had more confidence in yourself.”
Wren wished the same, but she couldn’t help it. This was a big undertaking. Anything could go wrong.
“I was at the mall the other day when I saw this wonderful shirt that I think you’d love,” said Dot, addressing the angel. She smiled and took a blue shirt out of a plastic bag. “I hope I’ve gotten you the right size. I had to guess.”
Brock picked up the shirt. “It looks very small.”
“Humor me. I’m sure it’ll look good on you.”
Wren rolled her eyes. Her mother was so shameless. Brock would wear it too and he’d look really good in it. He smiled and took the shirt away to try on.
I already have a boyfriend. Don’t ogle Brock like your mother.
There was another knock on the back door. Aarna let herself in.
“Morning guys!” Aarna called. She had one eye on her cellphone and the other on them. “I’ve sent out more social media alerts on Twitter, Instagram and TikTok. I’m engaging with a woman in Peru who thinks the coffee shop looks awesome.”
“How will someone from Peru get
here in time for the opening?” Wren asked.
Aarna shrugged. “I don’t know, but she says she’s visiting the states in the spring and might pop in.”
Aarna used to work at the Metropolitan when it belonged to Garrett. Wren had rehired her to work mainly as a barista, but also as their resident social media expert. The girl ran several YouTube channels and had quite a decent following on several other social media networks. Her work was providing quite a positive buzz online.
“One more thing I need to tell you,” said Aarna. She took a deep breath. “This is something I haven’t told anybody but my parents and Jordan. I want to tell you because you’re my boss and my friend and I can trust you.”
“You can tell me anything,” said Wren.
Aarna nodded. “I’m vegan.”
Wren smiled affectionately, though she was confused. Why was Aarna almost whispering the words, as if it were a huge secret that could destroy humanity?
Dot looked confused. “I don’t understand.”
Aarna carried on. “I don’t eat animals or products that come from animals.”
“Can you eat fish?” Dot asked.
“Of course not. Fish are animals.”
“Can you eat animals that have died of natural causes?”
Aarna looked thoughtful. “You know what? I have no idea.”
Wren smiled again and pulled Aarna into a hug. She needed it.
“I’m still confused,” said Dot.
Aarna laughed. “Look it up on Google. Wren and I have work to do.”
Wren started to put her coat on. It was time to head on down to the Metropolitan and get things ready. Only three hours until opening.
“Do I look okay?” Brock asked.
He was wearing his new shirt, and it was much, much too small for him. His muscles bulged in all the right places. He really was impressive, so much so Wren actually found herself about to swoon.
I do not swoon! I am not in Bridgerton!
“I think I’ve gone to Heaven,” said Aarna, fanning her face with her hands.
Dot giggled. “You can say that again.”
MAIN STREET WAS QUIET that morning. The snow was light, the air cold and misty. Veronica Van Clark’s coffee store was still closed, though there was a sign on it saying it was reopening soon. Wren was glad, despite the threat of competition. It was good she was getting on with her life.