I look at Zen, but they seem to be actively avoiding making eye contact with me.
“Zen—” I start, but Mimi interrupts me.
“Grey, you need to serve these beans here.” She sips and sighs again, and it doesn’t matter how wrong this is or who told whom what.
She looks happy.
For the first time in over a year, Mimi doesn’t have a cloud of sadness and gloom hovering around her.
“Whatever you want, Mimi,” I force out around an unexpected lump in my throat. “When did you get here?”
“Last night. I stayed at that hotel at the airport, and Sabrina’s friend Theo drove all the way over to pick me up this morning. You know. The naked knitting one. Isn’t that sweet of them to make arrangements for me?”
Sabrina’s friend Theo picked me up.
They made arrangements for me.
All while we were sitting and having fucking drinks together last night.
I look at Zen again.
They look back at me this time, a slight guilt bringing a blush to their cheeks, but a belligerent I am not on your side on this one in their steady gaze.
“You got in a car with a complete stranger?” I can barely keep my voice controlled.
“Of course not. Even if I didn’t know exactly who everyone here was after that video, I’m still sharp enough to hire the family’s private investigator before trusting a minor character in a viral video and her porn star friend when they invite me to town.”
Sabrina chokes on her coffee and comes up laughing, though there’s some strain in her expression if you know how to watch for it.
And I do.
I know how to watch for it.
“Oh my god, what did he find on us?” Sabrina asks.
“She,” Mimi says pertly.
“Did she find anything good?”
“Not on you. You’re remarkably boring for someone with so much personality and who knows everything there is to know about everyone else.”
Sabrina visibly lightens.
No one else seems to notice. And I don’t think I’m making it up just because I know some of her secrets.
Mimi smiles. “But Theo. My goodness, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he was actually disappointing in person after everything she dug up on him.”
Sabrina laughs again. “Miss Madeleine, you are the best.”
“The feeling is mutual.” She turns to me. “Now. Greyson. You didn’t tell me you bought a coffee shop in the Arctic Circle. I had to hear it from a stranger calling to express concern about your overall well-being.”
A stranger calling to express concern.
Sabrina’s cheeks go pink too.
And not a cute pink.
A guilty pink.
Way guiltier than Zen’s pink.
My blood pressure hits the roof, which is a bad place for it to be.
How long has she been planning this? Is this why she’s been keeping her distance?
Because she knows I’m going to murder her for this?
“Sabrina.” I jerk my thumb toward the kitchen. “A word.”
She holds my gaze while she takes a long sip off her own mug, despite the redness getting redder in her white cheeks, and then says, quite simply, “No, thank you.”
Like bringing Mimi here gives her the upper hand.
“We need popcorn,” Zen murmurs to Mimi.
“So it seems,” Mimi replies.
Sabrina rises. “You should visit with your grandmother. That’s far more important than threatening to fire me. Jitter. Come. Who’s a good boy who wants to go on a hike now that Mommy’s shift is over? Who’s a good boy?”
“A word,” I repeat. There are lines.
This is one of them.
And she knows it.
How many times did she tell me she was playing dirty?
And how furious am I that I’m still worried that her secrets might come out since Mimi hired a private investigator, even if that was all Sabrina’s own fault?
“Now,” I say.
She ignores me.
Zen and Mimi look nothing alike, but they’re sporting matching amused pursed lips.
And I have to grab a fucking chair because I’m seeing dots in my vision and feeling that familiar pressure behind my eyes that says a dizzy spell is imminent.
And not a light dizzy spell like the one I had a minute ago.
A hard dizzy spell.
“Oh, no,” Sabrina says distantly while people shift around me.
The dog whines nearby, and something heavy settles on my feet and against my legs while my vision goes nearly black.
A chair scrapes against the brick floor, and someone grabs my arm. “Sit, Uncle Grey,” Zen orders.
They sound like they’re in an echo chamber.
So does the dog’s whine.
I follow directions and sit, and nearly fall forward, but Zen and the dog don’t let me.
The pressure fades, and my vision starts to clear.
So do my ears.
And that’s when I realize what’s missing.
All of the noise of a room full of people.
Everyone’s staring.
Half the town just saw me nearly pass out.
Look weak.
Damaged.
Broken.
“Willa, we have customers waiting,” Sabrina says. “Iris, did you see the Valentine’s Day decorations? Willa did such a great job with them, didn’t she? Portia, did I hear your brother’s coming to the speed dating event tonight? Isn’t he living in South Dakota now? Is he coming home for good, or is he just looking for a good time?”
Voices slowly pick up again.
“That was a bad one,” Zen says beside me.
“You think?” I mutter while I stare at the floor, pressing my fingers to my temples.
No, not the floor.
Jitter, who’s staring up at me like I have officially scared the shit out of him, and he’d like it if I didn’t do that again.
Nothing is right.
Nothing is okay.
Except Mimi’s here, her cane making its distinctive thump on the floor as she carries her slender frame across the café to sit next to me. “Too much stress, Grey,” she says quietly. She squeezes my hand. “Maybe give an old lady fewer reasons to worry about you, hmm?”
“Working on it.”
“Not very well, by the looks of things.”
The scent of chai hits my nose a split second before a mug clinks to the table beside me.
And that’s not Zen’s hand holding the mug.
Those are definitely Sabrina’s short fingers and clean nails.
She doesn’t say a word.
Not to me, anyway.
“Good boy,” she whispers to the dog while she scratches him between the ears. “You stay. I’ll be back.”
I don’t want her to leave.
I want her to sit here and scratch me behind my ears.
I want to thank her for effortlessly steering everyone back to focusing on something other than the fact that I almost passed out in the middle of the café.
Fuck, I want to thank her for bringing Mimi here, even if I’m feeling completely naked at the idea that she’s been talking to my grandmother behind my back about what I’m doing here.
And I want none of the people here to know that I have any weaknesses.
Weakness makes you vulnerable.
Vulnerable lets them take advantage.
And now the whole town knows there’s something wrong with me.
28
Sabrina
The check-in line for speed dating is endless.
And every last one of the women asks the same thing. “Is Grey Cartwright joining us tonight?”
Half of them add the question, “And is he okay? I heard he almost passed out here this morning.”
“Hadn’t eaten,” is my cheeky answer. “You know men.”
I have zero doubt the meal patrol will have a sign-up to take him breakfasts and lunches in addition to his dinners before the night’s over. Or at least to have someone else helping Zen make sure he’s eating those meals here.
The things we gossips do to make sure newcomers feel welcome in a community.
And to psychologically and food-logically sway them to reconsider what they’re doing to the community.
The worst part of all of the questions about Grey though?
I don’t want them to like him.
Because he’s mine.
Dammit.
Even when I know he’s pissed at me, and rightfully so, I want him to be mine.
I want him to be the friend that Duke was in Hawaii.
It just felt so right. So easy. And even with our differences, I feel like I can trust him.
He’s trusted me with some hard things about himself. He thinks I’m worth it.
Or he did.
Until this morning.
“Are you participating, Sabrina?” Kayla asks.