Change is the only constant. Ever.
The change I need next is a bold new coffee that makes Wired Cup a brand people talk about again. I want people who have never stepped foot in our stores screeching about the campfire coffee on social media. I want my great grandpa抯 legacy reborn.
My team just needs to figure out how to make it happen.
I pick up the office phone and call Katelyn.
揌ey, Mr. Lancaster. What do you need??she answers, cheerful as ever.
揌ave we landed an interview with our new friend yet??
揝he can抰 come in before seven p.m.?
My brows lift. 揥hy so late??
揂h, that. I couldn抰 get an answer out of her. She just said that if you wanted to see her, that抯 the only time she has available.?There抯 a heavy pause on Kate抯 end. 揂re you sure you want to do this??
揟ell her I抣l see her at seven. Today. Thank you.?I slam the phone back in its cradle with my eyes flicking to the red-and-white pill bottle again.
I just wonder how big my headache will be by the time I抦 done with this strange, infuriatingly gorgeous woman and the pile of absolute bullshit she seems determined to shovel into my life.
A little after six, Kate comes strolling into my office.
The click of her heels doesn抰 feel like a mallet against my skull. The headache is better.
揂re you sure you don抰 want me or someone from HR to stick around??she asks.
揘ot necessary. I can handle a simple interview. I don抰 need either of you working so late to accommodate this little cactus. Go home to your family,?I say.
揗r. Lancaster棓 She hesitates.
Damn. What am I in trouble for now?
?..it抯 just highly unusual to conduct an interview so informally this late. I worry her motives might be less than pure. If you don抰 have someone sitting in, it抯 going to be difficult to protect you.?
揚rotect me from what??I cock my head.
揈rm梬ell梱our very blunt tongue. What if you set her off like you did at the store??
I throw back my head and laugh.
揔atelyn, please. I抳e handled a thousand interviews in my day. I can handle this night owl who wants to pluck out my tongue, too, but I appreciate your concern.?
揃adger.?She clears her throat. 揢m, that抯 the animal Destiny gave her, right??
I sigh. 揑 don抰 care what her spirit animal is. I just want to get this over with.?
揝ounds like a hint someone should stay. Just to keep you on your toes, y択now??She flashes a strained smile.
揑 don抰 need a damn babysitter. I抳e got this.?
揝orry. If you insist棓
揑 do.?I throw her a heavy look. 揊or the last time, go home. Feed your kids and husband.?
揥here抯 Destiny? You抮e usually not here this late. Has she eaten yet??
I hold back a smile.
Annoying or not, I remember why I have the best staff when Kate Storm cares this much about my daughter.
I抦 not sure Destiny and I ever would抳e come through Aster抯 demise as well as we have without my team.
揑 told her it抯 pizza night with her friends. Thanks, though,?I say.
揑 gotcha, boss. Okay, I抦 out. Good luck!?
I have exactly two minutes to brace for that siren with her honey-sweet eyes and a spear for a tongue.
Then Eliza sails into my office wearing mildly faded jeans and a flannel button-down shirt. She looks like she just stepped off a shift at a wood mill.
Nice interview-wear. You look like a Pearl Jam fan circa 1990, I think bitterly.
Still, the fact that I agreed to speak with her this late tells her I抦 willing to make certain accommodations if she can work her coffee magic.
I haven抰 said a word, raking her with a silent, assessing look.
I抦 braced for her attitude today.
Only, she抯 so quiet today.
Her jaw drops slightly as her eyes move from my wall of windows to the aged wood molding above it. She inhales deeply and smiles like she doesn抰 want to rip out my throat.
Are we making progress?
Her eyes scan up and down, flicking to the window wall and back to me again. 揂t least you look the part.?
揚ardon??I snap.
揧ou know...stuck-up prince in his ivory tower, so above us mortals.?Her eyes move just above my head.
Hell. She抯 found my grandfather抯 trophies梐 ghost from his time in this seat that I never had the heart to take down梕ven if I抦 not particularly fond of his big game trophies.
?..is that real ivory? Holy hell. Don抰 tell me you抮e a poacher on top of everything else??
Everything else? What did I do besides bark shit at her in the store?
Damn, I knew this wouldn抰 be easy.
I抳e only known this woman for ten minutes while she berated me in my own coffee shop, and this joke of an interview isn抰 starting off much better.
I try to soften my glare, nearly biting my tongue off.
揗y late grandfather抯 touch. They were mounted to the wall almost sixty years ago and never removed. Times were different then. Rest assured, chasing exotic animals isn抰 my thing. I抳e donated millions to zoos and wildlife sanctuaries.?I don抰 even know why I offer up that last part.
揝ixty years, huh??
Yeah. I stare through her.
She thinks she抯 an untouchable coffee badass, all because she roasted a decent brew?
This place oozes history across generations.
揑 suspect you already know Wired Cup started with my great-great-grandfather, Winslow Lancaster, back when it was Noble Bean. We抳e been in this city for almost a hundred years棓
揥ow. Did gramps have a trophy wife to go along with his dead animals? I guess you had to come from somewhere...?
The mouth on her.
My eyes snap to her plush lips, far too aware of how tightly they purse when she looks at me.
Oh, hell. I shouldn抰 be so hard, but my body isn抰 used to such lip or having it come from a spitfire who looks like this.
The things I could do to shut her up in another time and place...
揊or the record, the first endangered species didn抰 come out until 1967棓
揧eah, good excuse,?she interrupts. 揑 hunt puppy dogs and string their teeth since they抮e not endangered.?
Looks like I didn抰 need my executive assistant or someone from HR to stay. I should have had someone from security sit in on the off chance she抯 serious. This chick seems more psychotic by the second.
揜eally? I suppose that explains the weekly missing dog posters I see tacked up in my shops then,?I tell her, pulling at my tie.
Her face falls.
揑 was joking. Prick,?she adds under her breath.
揘o need to make my dead grandfather part of your comedy routine. He抯 been gone for twelve years.?
揑抦 sorry. I didn抰 realize棓
揥hat? That stuck-up princes have feelings and families??I drum my fingers against my desk.
She抯 quiet for a few heady seconds, and I wonder if she抯 about to get up and walk out.
揧eah, that. I guess.?She pauses and looks down before meeting me with those big brown eyes again. 揝orry, can we try again??
Can we?
At least she抯 honest and able to apply brakes to that attitude.
揧es. If you抣l start by telling me where you learned to make coffee like that concentrate you left in my store.?
She folds her arms and leans forward.
揑 could tell you, but...that抯 kind of my ace in the hole, isn抰 it? The whole reason you invited me in? I抦 not sure why I should give up my source so easily...?
I swallow my frustration. My eyes are locked on hers and that smug little half smile.
揇o you know how job interviews typically work, Miss Angelo? I ask questions, and you answer. Preferably with ten times less snark.?
She nods slowly. 揧eah, but I抳e never had an interview with a man who stole my intellectual property before we even agreed to meet.?
Stole? Has she talked to an IP attorney?
揑抦 not asserting any claim to ownership, even if your drink was negligently left on my property. I never cross certain ethical lines, whether you choose to believe me or not. You抣l be fairly compensated梘enerously compensated, in fact梖or any IP we agree to license or buy outright from you.?
She looks at me for a tense second and then bursts into a fit of laughter.