It's Not About You Page 4

  "Are you seeing anyone?"

  I'd just sent the text when he asked me that. Luckily I was looking down at my phone so he couldn't see my look of OMG. I schooled my face into something a little less panicky and looked up at him. "No time right now. I just started at the coffee shop and I promised George I'd put everything into getting it running smooth."

  I couldn't read the half smile on his face. And it made me just a little bit nervous. "So…you think if I stopped by for a coffee soon, you could make it for me?"

  Now I laughed. "Oh. No. Kevin—I haven't mastered the machine yet. I'm just managing. But I can serve a killer scone." Thinking of scones reminded me of pretty blue eyes. Michael Oliver. That youthful face, straight white teeth, damn those eyes.

  Was it so bad of me to be looking at a handsome age appropriate prospect and yet thinking of guy who was probably young enough to be my grandson?

  I think I just reached a whole new level of bad talk show topics.

  Zach came over and he and Kevin stepped away. They spoke in low voices and my phone buzzed. I looked at the message.

  If you can come in and handle morning shift with Flower, I'd appreciate it. I can cut you time and a half. Just keep me posted about Sam.

  I tucked the phone back into my back pocket and waved at the two of them. "Zach—can you keep me up to date? Gotta go to work!"

  Zach nodded. "Will do, Grace."

  Kevin nodded but kept talking to Zach.

  I jogged around from the back of the house and turned in the direction of my house, all the while thinking of scones and blue eyes.

  I got hit with a bazillion questions when I walked into the shop. I took everyone in a corner, including George, and told them all I knew. Everyone was mad and George said if the jerk came into any of his stores, he wasn't gonna get served at all.

  I hated to tell this nice man that I doubted Sam's boyfriend drank fancy coffee. He probably started his day with Jack Daniels and a smoke, given the general look of the back of Sam's house.

  George headed to the newer location. Bradford was at the second. I helped take orders, gave out refills and a few free bites of one of the new expresso brownies. It was my favorite treat in the display case. But boy-howdy did it give me a buzz!

  By eleven things calmed down just a bit, though I knew in an hour they would liven back up. Too many people spent their lunch breaks in coffee shops, with laptops, brownies and coffee. No wonder we were a society of diabetics. But these customers were the bread and butter of the shop and I did a quick inventory to see what we had and what I could get ready. All the machines had fresh coffee brewed or brewing. Tom wiped down the empty tables while Mary swept.

  My phone rang. It was Kyle. "Hey."

  "What the hell happened this morning? George left me the worst god-awful voice mail."

  I filled my roomie in and he cursed under his breath. "I swear…straight men should be neutered sometimes."

  "Not all straight men. Come on, leave some for us hetero women folk, bruiser."

  He laughed. "No one's good enough for you Grace."

  "Ugh, don't say that. Makes me think I'm gonna be a lonely old lady."

  "You're not old. I really wish you'd ditch the stereotype and let me take you out."

  I walked into the office and sat at the desk. "Maybe later. I do miss dancing with hot young gay boys." And that wasn't a joke. I used to like gay clubs because of two reasons. One, they were nice and polite to me. And two, no one hit on me. And sometimes…that was just the way I wanted it.

  But I wasn't sure I wanted it now. Hells bells…I wasn't sure what I wanted anymore.

  "I'm off to work. Text me with Sam's condition?"

  I told him I would and dropped my phone into my apron pocket. I'd just pulled up the POS to update when Mary came to the door. "One of the customers wants to see you."

  "Is there a problem?"

  "I don't think so. He just asked if you were working and I said yes."

  Unsure who would be asking for me, I logged, stood and straightened my apron. A quick look in the small mirror George kept hanging by the door—so employees could make sure they looked okay for customers—and I stepped out.

  There he stood, looking at the array of coffee makers on the left wall.

  Michael Oliver.

  He looked different today. His hair was pushed back from his face with shades and he wore a nice suit and tie. I approached him and smelled aftershave and a cologne meant to raise the libido of every woman in the vicinity. It raised mine. Damn…he just looked good enough to eat.

  Michael looked at me and grinned. "Hi Grace."

  "Hi Scones. Did you need something?"

  "Yes." He put his finger to his nice, full lower lip. His beard was thinner. And that's where I decided it wasn't really a beard. Not like a mountain man thing. It was more like an accent of hair that moved along his jawline. Which…was hot. "I need to buy a coffee maker."

  "For yourself or as a gift?" No. I wasn't fishing for information. Not even a little bit. Mmhmm. But what I was aware of were the stares from Mary and Tom.

  "For me. Mine broke this morning and though I love coming to coffee shops like this," he looked down at me with a half smile that touched a mischievous look in his eyes. "It's not good for the budget."

  "Well, you do you know we have the loyal customer program."

  "The what?"

  "We give you a card and after five punches, you get two coffees of your choice free." This was a program Bradford had been wanting to do. He'd even had the cards made and bought hand punches with little stars. But George hated the idea of giving anything away free. So…I had no idea why I was bringing it up now.

  Unless subconsciously I was thinking of a way to bring him into the shop more often? Though…come to think of it, he'd shown up twice within a twenty four hour period already.

  Score!

  "I'll try that program. But, I still need to buy one. Got any suggestions?"

  I looked at the wall and hit coffee maker overload, combined with panic. I didn't know the first thing about making coffee. I'd barely been at the shop over a week. I could lie. And then what if it didn't work and the thing like exploded on him the way one at the shop exploded on me? What if it burned him?

  Tom came to stand on my other side and stared at the wall. He bent forward and looked at Michael. "Buying a coffee maker all depends on how involved you want to be. Do you want to make fancy coffees? Or do you want it to be utilitarian? Just the basics? Are you wanting to spend a lot of money? Or just something on a budget?"

  Michael looked around me at him, then looked at me. "He your sell guy?"

  Yes! I put a hand on Tom's shoulder. "I trust Tom completely." And I took a step back.

  The two men went over what each maker did, all the way from the fancy schmancy expresso machine to the simpler French Press, which was one of those do-hickeys that amazed me. I turned and went back to the counter to take a few orders and Mary made coffee.

  Finally she stepped near me as Tom pulled down a French Press and leaned in close. "How old do you think that guy is?"

  I turned and looked at her, though I had to lean away cause she was really close. "Who?"

  "Pretty Eyes. Come on, Grace. You really think you have a shot with him?"

  "Shot with him? What're you talking about?"

  "Oh come on. It's obvious you like him. But he's much too young for you."

  I wasn't sure what was happening at that moment. Between Mary and I and inside my chest. My heart pounded hard but not from anticipation or nervousness, but from anger and a bit of embarrassment that this little stick figure of a girl had picked up on the fact I thought Michael was cute.

  And what the fuck did Twiggy here think she was doing? Getting up in my face and telling me in a nice, indirect way that I was too old for him? I felt my face grow hot as I glared at her and took a step toward her. "Mary—I suggest you step away because you don't know what you're talking about. And if you ever say anything like
that to me again, I will tell George about how you sneak toilet paper out of here in your backpack."

  That did it.

  She took more than a step back. Mary nearly jumped back and her mouth made a perfect O. She had no idea I knew what she was doing and it scared the crap out of her. But I also realized something when she shut her mouth and turned and started cleaning the machine.

  I'd just made an enemy of an employee.

  Dammit.

  My phone buzzed and I grabbed it out of my apron. It was Kevin. "Hey."

  "Got an update on Sam. She's got a broken wrist, a lot of bruises and a busted tooth. I had them do a rape kit just so we'd have the DNA. But the doctor says she'll be fine. Her mom's here."

  Her mom? "I thought Sam was alone. That she had terminal cancer?"

  "Apparently not. Her mom's just fine and she has a dad and an older brother. But from what I got from her mom, she and her brother have been a bit at odds with one another. You got any information on Eddie?"

  "No. Just the car he drives." That much I'd paid attention too and gave him the information. "And his name's Cooper. He never got out of the car so I don't think anyone here ever saw him." I'd snuck a look at Sam's information earlier and found Eddie Cooper's name as a contact. I also gave Kevin Eddie's cell number.

  "Okay. I'll give this information to our domestic violence division. There's really not much else I can do."

  "Thanks Kevin. You've done more than enough. Oh! One more thing." I looked over at Tom and Michael before I moved back into the office. "Can I get another restraining order?"

  "On Burt? What the hell is he doing now? I thought you were divorced."

  "My daughter's coming home for Thanksgiving and he's threatening that he's coming too. I don't want him in my house. The court awarded me the house and I want him to stay away."

  "Yeah…you can do it. Just go in and tell them I sent you. Like I said, I'm in homicide now."

  "Thanks Kevin. I appreciate it."

  "Look…do you mind if I start the paper work and just bring it over to you? Maybe have some coffee together?"

  "I don't mind at all." We hung up and I dropped the phone into my apron again. When I stepped back out Michael was at the counter with a French Press and Tom was ringing him up.

  "Can I get you a coffee to go?" Mary said as she moved to stand right up against Tom, nearly crowding him away from the register. I watched her bat her eyes and smile with a dip of her head at Michael.

  I also noticed Michael wasn't even looking at her when he said, "No thanks."

  With a sigh at the little git's ridiculous behavior, I stepped out and stood a bit to the side. "Picked a French Press. Good choice."

  "You have one, Grace?"

  "No. I have a single cup maker."

  "Do you know how to use one of these?"

  I approached and put my hand on the top of it. Our eyes met and he gave me that half smirk. So I returned the expression. "Mr. Oliver, I have absolutely no freak'n idea how to use one of these."

  Tom and he laughed. Mary moved away.

  Michael handed over his card to Tom. "Then maybe I can become an expert and show you one day."

  I nodded. Sure. Right. "You do that."

  As he finished the sale, Tom looked at me. "You hear about Sam?"

  "Yeah. I'll tell you in just a minute." I watched Michael take his card, replace it in a nice wallet and then heft his purchase into his arms. "I'll see you, Grace."

  After he left I filled the two of them in on what Kevin told me. Tom whistled. "Wow. I didn't even know she had family. Why tell us her mother had terminal cancer? And she never mentioned a brother."

  "I have no idea. Either way, I need to call George and let him know. We're going to need to hire a replacement for a while. Maybe someone from one of the other stores."

  "I've got a cousin," Mary volunteered.

  I smiled and told her I'd let George know. As I went into the back, Tom followed me. "Hey Grace?"

  "Yeah?"

  "That guy? The one that just bought the coffee maker?"

  I stopped and turned to him. "Yeah?"

  "He was asking me all kinds of questions about you. Wanted your last name, where you lived, were you married and if not were you seeing anybody?"

  Oh. My. I pointed past him to the door. "That guy…wanted to know those things about me? What did you tell him?"

  "Nothing really. I did tell him your last name. I figured that wasn't bad. I told him you were a lot of fun and I told him you were divorced but living with a guy. When I told him that he seemed disappointed. Stopped asking me questions."

  Oh.

  My.

  The rest of the day was sort of normal and I ended up working a shift and a half with Flower, who said I could leave at any time and she's lock up. Kevin dropped by around four with the paperwork I'd asked for. He looked a little less pressed than he had that morning.

  "Rough day?" I asked as we took a free table and chairs near the back in front of the bathroom.

  He sat back with a long, exaggerated sigh. "Always and never. Every day's a rough day so it's sort of the norm. But," he said as he sat forward and rested both elbows on the table. "It's what I wanted. What I signed on for. Forever fighting against the bad guy."

  I gave him a worried stare over the papers. "You okay? That sounded like a superhero speech."

  His laugh was cute. "I'm okay. Sam's parents are taking her home, by the way. To North Carolina."

  "So that's where they moved." Tanae had mentioned that Sam's family had moved away for her mother's health and that Sam was going to stay in the house. I just never knew how twisted, crazy, mixed up it wall was.

  "Yeah. We're still looking for the boyfriend but he's in the wind. So's the brother."

  "You're not looking for the brother about—"

  "Oh. No. Her parents asked us to find him. So as a personal apology to them for what happened to their daughter, I said I'd look into it."

  Yep. That was Detective Kevin Taylor. Good guy extraordinare.

  He put a hand on the papers. "These have the same terms as before. He's not allowed within a hundred feet of you or within a mile of your house. Now, I can't stop him from coming to town—doesn't work that way. And if Tanae wants to see him, she can leave your house to do it. Just sign and I'll file."

  I glanced over them, having memorized my first restraining order. It was like he said. I signed it and handed him the copies. He folded them up, slipped them into an envelope and stuffed them into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

  And suddenly there was an awkward moment. He stared at me. I tried to stare back but drummed my hands on the table. "So…how's cop shop?"

  "You look good, Grace."

  "You said that this morning."

  "And I meant it. You didn't answer me about seeing anyone."

  The awkward meter increased by three ticks. "No. Not really. Just me and Kyle. After the divorce was final, I took a hiatus from the dating scene. Too much hassle."

  "So…are you still on hiatus?"

  And two more ticks. I liked Kevin. I really did. And even though we tried making a go at a romantic relationship during my divorce, I never felt the spark. That little something I had a vague memory of from my youth. The thing that made two people want to screw each other's brains out.

  I needed the spark. I felt that somewhere inside, I needed it to stay alive. To still feel like a woman, and not a mom, or eventually—oh Hell no—a grandmother.

  "Yeah. I am. Now don't look like that. I really haven't had time. Not with Tanae in school, worrying about bills, and now this job. I want to simplify my life for a while."

  That seemed to brighten his mood a little, though it made me feel like shit. I didn't have any prospects. I mean, who wants to date a woman past her prime? And what I didn't admit was that I'd been thinking of Michael all day, and how naggingly annoying it was to know he thought I lived with a guy.

  Well I did live with a guy. Just not a guy that liked girls.


  Why hadn't Tom specified that? Wait…did anyone here even know my room mate was gay? Oh no…did they all think Kyle and I were a couple?

  "Hey," I said suddenly and I had no idea where my mouth was going. "If you're not busy for Thanksgiving, you're more then welcome to join us. It'll just be immediate friends and family."

  "Oh I…maybe. I have my obligatory engagement with the ex and the kids. Did you know Josh is graduating high school this year? Or rather, next year. June."

  "No I didn't!" I smiled at him He had three kids. I had one. He didn't get custody, just visitation. I couldn't imagine what kind of hell that had to be not to see them on a regular basis. But his ex, Margo, lived in Alabama, and he got over there when he could. "What about Jennifer and Jordan?"

  Brought to you by the letter J, and the number 3.

  It'd been Margo's idea to over stimulate the J.

  "The twins are the twins. They get nastier to each other every year. I thought twins were supposed to be inseparable? These two fight like cats and dogs."

  "Maybe fraternal twins are different? They're both how old now?"

  "Sixteen…going on forty." He moved abruptly and pulled his phone from his jacket pocket. With a nod to me he got up and answered it, taking the conversation, which was probably police business, outside.

  Fatigue pressed down on my shoulders as I sat there. Once Kevin left I was headed home to a shower, some of my left over potato soup, and a good book.

  I felt someone beside me before I saw their reflection in the window. I turned and looked up into the smiling face of Michael Oliver. "Mr. Oliver…is something wrong?"

  "I tried to use the French Press," Michael said with the hint of a smile on his gorgeous lips. "And created something between John Carpenter's The Thing and road sludge."

  I laughed. Couldn't stop myself. "That's pretty bad. Did you want your money back?"

  "Oh no," He said as he widened his own grin. "I'm not an unreasonable man. I called to see if someone here could give me a quick lesson."

  And I assumed Tom had told him I'd do it. Which wasn't a bad thing, though the thought of standing near Michael while I taught him anything increased my blood pressure. But in a healthy way. The only bad thing was I didn't know how to use one. Kyle was a wizard at it, and his coffee always came out perfect.