Riley was behind the counter, her red curls piled on top of her head, and a smear of cocoa dusting her cheek like festive war paint. She looked up and grinned.
“Well, look what the blizzard dragged in,” she said. “My favorite Benedict.”
I snorted. “You say that to every Benedict who walks in here.”
“Lucky for you, there’s only two of you,” she said, handing a latte to the woman at the counter before turning back to me. “And you’re taller, so you win on visibility alone.”
“Good to know my height counts for something.”
“It’s your only redeeming quality before caffeine.” She squinted at me then, her grin softening. “You look… off today. Everything okay?”
I blinked. “You can tell that?”
“I’ve been fueling your caffeine addiction long enough to know,” she said. “You usually come in here humming or whistling or looking like you just got away with something. Today, you look like someone stole your puppy.”
“Didn’t realize I was that readable.”
“You’re a bartender. You should know better. The whole world’s readable if you look long enough.”
I chuckled under my breath. “Maybe I’ve been looking at the wrong things.”
She tilted her head. “The festival got you down? Or something else?”
I hesitated. “Maybe both.”
“Mm-hmm.” She leaned an elbow on the counter, eyes twinkling. “So, what’ll it be? Regular black coffee or something festive? I’ve got a peppermint mocha special that might melt that scowl right off your face.”
“Just coffee,” I said automatically.
She sighed dramatically. “Boring as ever.”
But she poured it anyway, the rich aroma hitting me like a second sunrise.
I was halfway through my first sip when the door jingled again, followed by a burst of laughter and cold air.
Lydia.
And right beside her—Melanie.
My hand froze halfway to my mouth.
They were both rosy-cheeked from the cold, dusted in snowflakes, looking like a sorority ad for friendship and emotional stability. Lydia spotted Riley first and waved, then her gaze found me.
“Oh, hey!” she said brightly. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Yeah, just grabbing caffeine,” I said, forcing my voice to sound casual.
Melanie, meanwhile, was busy brushing snow off her coat. When she finally looked up, her eyes met mine, quickly, like she hadn’t meant to, then darted away just as fast.
Riley, of course, missed nothing.
Her gaze flicked between us, then a slow, knowing grin spread across her face.
“Ah,” she said. “Now I get it.”
I frowned. “Get what?”
“Why you’re all moody and brooding this morning.” She waggled her eyebrows. “You’ve got company drama.”
