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“That kind of work with Ira,” I confirm.
He studies Vincent with a tilted head. “And now he runs a bakery?”
“Yes, he does.”
“Surely there’s a longer story there.”
“He’d never tell, but his wife owns the bar next door,” I say. “We’ll swing by there next. She’s very chatty.”
Oliver hums as Vincent returns with our coffees. “So, you worked with Ira Botsford back in the day?” he asks him. “You guys toppled dictatorships and stuff?”
Vincent shrugs, his face expressionless. “I’m not at liberty to say,” he says.
“Badass,” Oliver whispers with awe.
I roll my eyes as I reach into my handbag for my wallet, but Oliver sets a twenty-dollar bill on the counter before I can.
“Keep the change, sir,” he says. “You’ve got a nice place here.”
Vincent takes the money with an appreciative nod. “Thanks.”
I grab my coffee and pastry box, along with the receipt. “See you around, Vin,” I say.
“Bye, Paige. You two have a good night.”
Oliver bows his head in respect. “You, too.”
I grab two plastic forks off the rack by the register and motion for Oliver to follow me toward the first open table. As we sit down, Oliver takes another long glance around, getting a good look at the bakery before sipping his coffee.
“Good coffee?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Good coffee,” he repeats.
I offer him a fork. “And the only thing that makes it better is swallowing it down with a chunk from this thing.” I open the pastry box in the center of the table. “And please do, because I can’t eat this entire thing by myself.”
“Let me guess. You and Graham usually share?” he asks.
I nod. “I’d be thirty pounds heavier if it weren’t for him.”
Oliver chuckles as he slices off a piece and sticks it in his mouth. “Vincent made this?” he asks, his eyes widening as he chews.
“He makes everything here.”
“What a fascinating man.” He goes back for more cupcake. “We should definitely stop in next door and see his chatty wife.”
I laugh before taking a sip from my perfect coffee. “Graham and I usually do at least once during Boston visits.”
“Wait, really?” he asks. “Graham actually leaves the hotel?”
I nod. “He does.”
“To go to a bar? Where fun happens?”
“It’s literally one of the few places he’ll go in any city.” My smile drops a little. “It’s weird to think he and I won’t be doing that very much anymore.”
“Do you think you’ll miss the road?” he asks.
“I already do, truthfully. It feels strange to fully unpack my suitcase if that makes any sense at all.”
