The Cold Hard Truth: A Gripping Novel About Secrets and Lies

by Amanda Leigh Cowley

  They didn’t hang around for long after the introductions were over. Dominic kept looking at his watch and telling Rachel he didn’t want to be late for their dinner reservation. Rachel hugged me goodbye in a cloud of perfume and told me they would be staying in a hotel so not to wait up. As if I would.

  I’m up, showered and dressed before Harriet rises. Gazing out of the kitchen window at another bright morning, I turn on Rachel’s coffee machine and tip coffee grounds into the filter. As I pour the water in, I catch the handle of my bag, knocking it over and spilling the contents onto the work surface.

  Damn.

  Among the money, credit cards, chewing gum and tissues is a little silver object and I can’t think what it can be. I pick it up, turn it over in my hand and catch my breath. It’s the little butterfly brooch Dad bought me last Christmas….

  I squeeze my hand around the cold metal and close my eyes. I thought I’d lost it. After Dad died that little brooch took on a whole new level of significance. I turned the house upside down like a mad woman looking for it.

  I open my eyes, quickly fasten the brooch to my top and smile. It’s like having a little piece of Dad back with me.

  O’Shea’s Place is a twenty-minute walk along the coast from the house and I set off earlier than I need to.

  A couple of dog-walkers meander along the beach, and out in the ocean a surfer bobs around on his board, waiting for a decent wave.

  When I arrive at the café there are only two cars parked out the front; a blue Honda Civic and an old Mustang convertible, bright red and polished to within an inch of its life. The closed sign is up and when I try the door, its locked. I glance at my watch. Twenty to seven.

  I press my nose against the glass and peer towards the back of the café. The lights are on above the counter and a girl with long red hair in a high pony-tail sings to herself as she wipes down the surface. I rap on the glass and her head flicks up. A look of surprise flashes across her features before being replaced with a smile.

  She springs out from behind the counter and hurries over, beaming at me through the glass as she unlocks the door. She’s pretty, in a cute sort of way, with wide green eyes and a smattering of freckles across her nose. She’s wearing a short-sleeved black shirt, black trousers and a black apron bearing the ‘O’Shea’s Place,’ logo. The outfit looks smart and slightly out of place against the riot of colour that is O’Shea’s Place.

  She throws the door open and sticks out her hand, shaking mine enthusiastically. “Hey there. You must be Emily.”

  “Hi. Yes, Emily Everett.”

  “I’m Lois,” She keeps hold of my hand and gently pulls me across the threshold. “Come in, come in. I’ll show you everything you need to know.”

  I follow her across the tiled floor, past tables and chairs with brightly-coloured cushions to the other side of the room, where a large chalkboard menu dominates the wall. She flips up a small section of the counter and we walk through to the serving area.

  “Right then, first things first….” She bends down and pulls out an apron identical to the one she’s wearing, complete with the logo. “Here, put this on.”

  I pull the apron over my head, fasten the straps around my waist and then tie my hair back with the band I had on my wrist. “Okay, I think I’m ready,” I say, and blow out a deep breath.

  Lois’ eyes flick over my face and she frowns. “Hey, you’re not nervous, are you?”

  I bite my lip. “A little.”

  “Relax. You’ll be fine. Only two things are important at O’Shea’s Place. Get them right and the rest will fall into place.”

  I arch my eyebrows, waiting for her to enlighten me.

  “Rule number one....” She pulls a funny face and puts on her best infomercial voice. “Make sure your customer has a great O’Shea’s experience. If they have a good time, they’ll come back and bring their friends, too.”

  I smile. “Okay....”

  “And rule number two, observe food safety rules at all times.” She drops her hand down. “That’s it. Couldn’t be easier.” She winks and I feel the tension leave my shoulders. I think I’m going to enjoy working with Lois.

  “So, what are my duties then?”

  She slaps a hand on the counter. “You’ll be serving customers here, food and beverages, both take-out and taking orders to tables.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “And you can prep some of the cold food; sandwiches and salads and stuff. Oh, and you’ll need to learn how to use the beast.”

  My eyebrows pull down. “The what?”

  “The beast.” She points to a large black and chrome coffee machine dominating the unit by the wall. “Nate splashed out a small fortune on that piece of kit. It’s his pride and joy.”

  “Oh, right … the beast.” I notice jars sitting next to it with handwritten labels on announcing flavours such as cinnamon, Georgia pecan and hazelnut roast. I turn back to Lois. “Uh … will Nate be in today?”

  “Yes, he should be here right now. He lives here.” She looks out beyond the glass door and points towards the red Mustang. “That’s his car. He’ll be upstairs in the apartment or the office. Why? Do you need to see him?”

  “No, no.” I shake my head. “I’m just not sure what hours I’m supposed to be working. It doesn’t matter. I haven’t got to be anywhere. I’ll stay as long as I’m needed.”

  She glances at the clock behind the counter. “We close at five today, so you should be free about five-thirty? Is that okay?”

  I nod. “That’s fine.”

  “We stay open late one night a week, on Wednesdays, but that could change anytime. Nate’s got big plans for this place.”

  “That’s fine with me,” I say. “I like to keep busy and I don’t really have much of a social life anyway.”

  “That’s because you’re new in town. Don’t worry, we’ll soon fix that.”

  I laugh. “I’m not complaining. I’m not a big party animal to be honest.”

  Lois looks at me as if I’ve just revealed I’m part alien. “You don’t like to party? Seriously?”

  I shrug.

  “Come on, Emily. You might not be a party animal, but a girl’s got to have some fun, right?”

  I give in to a reluctant smile. “I guess.”

  Lois spends the next half hour showing me how everything runs and where all the napkins, plates, cups and anything else I’ll need are kept. Then we head to the store room adjacent to the kitchen area. Inside are metal racks stacked high with, among other things, boxes of take-away cups, crates of soft drinks and bottles of ketchup. I notice two surfboards propped up next to the rear door; one plain and one with brightly coloured chevrons.

  “They’re Nate’s,” Lois says, when she sees me looking at them. “He’s pretty good too.”

  We walk back through to the serving area and she points to a set of stairs leading off to the right. “Nate’s apartment is up there.” She carries on walking so I fall in step with her back to the serving area. “His office is up there too. Half the time he’ll be up there doing the books and planning new menus and stuff, and the rest of the time he helps us out down here.”

  The sound of a door closing upstairs and then footsteps makes Lois and I look back towards the stairs. Nate comes into view, deep in conversation with another guy. Nate’s wearing sweatpants and a long-sleeved white top, his hair’s all messed up and he looks like he’s had next to no sleep. And somehow that makes him look even sexier than before.

  I smooth my hands down my apron as the two men make their way to the bottom. I notice the guy Nate is talking to has a limp.

  Lois raises her voice. “Hey, guys, how are you doing?”

  “Good,” Nate says, his gaze travelling from Lois to me. A lazy smile spreads on his face as he drags a hand through his hair, making some of the ends fall back into place. “Emily, hi. How are you getting on?”

  “Uh ... yeah, good. Lois is just showing me around.”

  “Great.” His ey
es hold mine a fraction too long. Then he turns to the guy by his side. “Riley, this is Emily, the new member of staff I was telling you about.” He turns back to me. “Emily, meet one of my brothers; Riley.”

  Riley is a bit shorter than Nate, around six foot I’d guess, and he’s a bit stockier, but he has the same stunning blue eyes, dark lashes and dark eyebrows. He steps forward and his eyes twinkle. “Hi Emily, it’s good to meet you. Welcome to the team.”

  I smile. “Thank you.”

  “Anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.” He points to a spot over my shoulder. “You’ll find me chained to the kitchen sink over there.”

  I laugh.

  “Not even joking.” He leans closer, puts a hand to his mouth and uses a loud stage-whisper. “I now see why Nate’s been talking about you so much.”

  Nate coughs.

  “Uh ... all good I hope?” I say, trying to make light of the situation.

  Riley glances at Nate and then looks back at me, winking. “Definitely good….”

  I feel heat rise from my chest. It creeps up my neck and into my face.

  “Riley, stop it,” Lois says, pulling a face. “You’re making Emily blush.”

  “Uh, yeah, thanks for that, Riley,” Nate says.

  I shoot a glance in Nate’s direction. He’s shaking his head at Riley, but there’s a smile on his face. “Haven’t you got work to do in the kitchen?”

  Riley salutes Nate and with a cheeky grin, retreats towards the kitchen area at the back. “Make yourself useful, bro,” he shouts over his shoulder. “Fix me one of your legendary lattes....”

  “One day I’m going to fire his ass for insubordination,” Nate says, shaking his head.

  “I can still hear you,” Riley calls out.

  “Good. You were meant to.”

  “Uh … shall I have a go at making that latte?” I say, desperate to move on and leave the awkwardness of Riley’s comments behind. “Lois, maybe you could show me how to use the beast?”

  “Allow me.” Nate pushes his sleeves back, revealing those tanned, muscular arms.

  “Oh, aren’t you busy? I don’t want to hold you up or anything.” I sound way more casual than I feel.

  His smile blends with a furrowed brow. “There’s nothing that can’t wait.”

  “It’ll be better if Nate shows you,” Lois chips in. “He’s the best barista for miles.”

  I straighten my apron and take a deep breath. “Okay, great.”

  “Well, I’d better go and finish setting up,” Lois says. “Otherwise the customers will be in before we’re ready.” She pushes herself off the counter and wanders through to the kitchen area, launching straight into a conversation with Riley.

  Nate is standing in front of the coffee machine, watching me. “Come over here then. I don’t bite.”

  I smile nervously and walk over to join him. God, I need shrug off feeling like a shy schoolgirl when he’s around or this job is going to be painful.

  He starts pressing buttons and then his hands still as he turns to me. “I hope what Riley said just then didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”

  I shake my head. “No, no. Of course not.”

  His eyes search my face. “Because I’d hate for you to feel awkward….”

  Uh, yeah, awkward would be an understatement.

  “It’s okay. I know he was just messing around.”

  Nate’s eyebrows lift. Such a tiny movement, I barely catch it. He looks like he’s about to say something else on the subject, but then he stands up straight and sandpapers his hands together. “Okay, let’s do this. See that black handle? Twist it to the left and it should pop out.”

  I grab hold of the handle and turn it, trying to ignore a small tremor in my hand. It slides out easily.

  He hands me a towel off the side. “Here, give the filter a quick clean and then you can pour the coffee in.”

  As I wipe the filter he slides a jar in front of me with ‘espresso roast’ scrawled on the label. I pop off the top, tip the grounds into the filter and the intense aroma of coffee fills the air.

  “I’ll get the tamper for you,” he says, reaching up to a shelf. As he does, his top rides up revealing the rock-hard stomach muscles I caught a glimpse of last week.

  I shift my eyes to his hand as he passes me something which resembles a metal, circular date stamp. “Here, you need to pack the coffee grounds down using this.”

  I take it off him, turn it around to inspect it and then crunch it into the coffee grounds. I need something to distract me; calm my nerves a bit. I decide to turn the attention on him. “So, you said Riley is one of your brothers. How many more are there?”

  “I’ve got two others; Finn and Liam.” He points to the tamper. “Press it in gently, but firmly. If you do it soft the water runs through too quick, and if you do it too hard, it won’t get through at all.”

  I pack down the coffee a couple of times and hope I’ve done it right. Then I look back at Nate for my next instruction.

  “Okay, give it a quick turn and you’re done.”

  I twist the tamper round and then lift it out and hand it back to him. “Do your other brothers, work here as well?”

  He shakes his head. “Finn runs boat tours down in Dana Point, and Liam lives in Seattle with his wife and kids. He works in asset management. Does pretty well for himself.”

  “And what about your parents?”

  “Mom moved to Seattle to be near the grandchildren and I haven’t seen my dad for years.” I catch a distant look in his eyes but when he turns back it’s gone and a smile is in its place. “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

  Only when I’m nervous.

  He hands me the towel and launches into another set of instructions. I give the filter a quick wipe around the edge and pop it back into the head. Then I twist the hot water knob and watch as a rich brown honey-like substance drizzles from the spout into the waiting cup below. It sends a wonderful steamy aroma curling into the air around us.

  “Perfect.” Nate pushes the steam button so it makes a whooshing sound. “Now raise this up to it.” He hands me a pitcher of milk. “You want the wand sitting at a forty-five-degree angle to the surface.”

  I raise the pitcher, tipping it up to the wand, and as I do my sleeve slides up my arm. My heart skips a beat as the scar, red and raised, screams out against my pale skin. I yank the material back into place, splashing milk up the sides of the pitcher. Then I move the pitcher to my other hand and steal a glance at Nate to see if he noticed. If he did, he doesn’t say anything. Instead he moves closer, standing behind me and adjusts the angle of my hand. His touch sends tiny tingles of electricity along my skin. “You want the end of the wand just off-centre,” he says, oblivious to the effect he’s having.

  “Okay.” I purse my lips and blow out a deep breath.

  “Now go for it; turn on the steam.”

  I press the button and milk begins to circulate around the pitcher. Nate lets go of my hand and I immediately miss the contact.

  “That’s it. Release the button and give the pitcher a quick tap so the milk settles.”

  I knock the pitcher a couple of times and look up at him.

  “Go ahead.” He hands me a latte glass. “Pour your first coffee from the beast.”

  I pour the espresso into the glass and then tip the frothy milk over the top before holding it up for Nate to inspect.

  “Not bad.” He tilts his face to one side and smiles. “Not bad at all.”

  Riley walks out to join us. He relieves me of the latte, blows across the steam, takes a sip and raises his eyebrows. “Emily, I think you’ve nailed it.”

  I smile.

  Riley nudges me with his elbow. “Won’t be long and we’ll be entering you into the barista championships.”

  I laugh. “The barista championships. Is there such a thing?”

  He points to a frame above the beast. “Damn right. In fact, you’ve just been trained by the Southern California cham
pion himself.”

  I look at the certificate sitting in the frame; ivory paper with gold lettering states ‘Winner: Nate O’Shea. 12th SoCal Barista Championships.

  I raise my eyebrows and nod. “I’m impressed.”

  Nate winks. “I was hoping you would be.”

  And I go right back to feeling like a shy schoolgirl again.

  After the coffee-making lesson, Nate disappears upstairs, telling us he’ll be in the office dealing with an overflowing in-tray for the rest of the morning. I’m left with Lois, Riley and a steady stream of customers who pop in and out. Lois and Riley are more than generous with their time, briefing me on everything from where the spare toilet rolls are kept, to the best way of dealing with rude customers.

  Just before lunch, I’m trusted to man the helm by myself. Lois has taken her break before the busy period and Riley has struggled up the stairs to talk to Nate. A few customers are outside on the patio, with just a couple sat at the tables inside.

  The bell on the door tinkles and I glance up, lazily. A woman with a swingy blonde bob and sharp features has just entered and is making her way towards the counter. From her designer clothes to her oversized handbag, she oozes money. She stops and gives me a sideways look. I smile, about to ask what I can get her when she flips up the counter and walks through.

  “Oh,” I say, stepping back to give her room. Maybe she’s the waitress I’ve just replaced. What was her name again? Ah yes….

  “Are you Olivia?”

  She looks down her nose at me.

  “You’re not? Oh, sorry, I assumed….” I remember Nate telling me Olivia is heavily pregnant so I’ve just insulted whoever this is. I shake my head, feeling flustered. “Sorry.” I hold my hand out. “Shall we start again? I’m Emily, I’m new here.”

  She looks at my hand and ignores it. Instead she plucks the sunglasses from the top of her head, carefully folds the arms and slides them into her bag.