“A large hazelnut latte.” The sound of drumming fingers against glass. “Soy milk this time, Bez. My youngest grandson’s riding my ass about my cholesterol again.”
And that was why he put up with Sylvia’s nosiness, even on the rare occasions when she caught him out in the open. There was no pretense to the elderly woman. No surface politeness masking something entirely different. Her bluntness was kinda refreshing.
The familiar sounds of a latte-to-be drifted to his ears, and he began working on the dough for Sylvia’s leaf cookies, because he was a sap.
Another jangle of the cowbell. “Hey, Bez! Hi, Sylvia!”
Athena. Fuck. His. Life.
He liked her, yeah, but the woman was chatty as hell, irritatingly interesting, and a major distraction during her frequentvisits. Between her and Sylvia, he wasn’t leaving this kitchen foranything. Not even if it started raining dollar bills outside. He had work to do, goddammit.
Thank Christ the rest of his equally chatty, way-too-big family was driving across the continent and visiting fifteen billion national parks. Dealing with their nightly calls was a damn hassle, but at least they hadn’t been able to descend on him for nursing purposes.
They’d invited him on the trip, obviously. He’d told them he couldn’t spare that much time away from the bakery. Wasn’t retired, like his parents. Couldn’t work remotely, like his siblings. The honest truth. But his family also couldn’t have paid him enough to ride in their cramped fucking rental RV for two entire goddamn months, much less wear the custom-designed “Dean Clan Trip of a Lifetime!” tee with the huge smiley face on it.
His youngest sister, Emily, swore they hadn’t put it there to taunt him, but he knew better. His family was a bunch of smartasses, through and through.
Shaking his head, he bent back over the cookie dough.
After a couple minutes of conversation with his clerk about random shit, Athena got to the point. “What’s going on, Bez? The bakery’s been closed for days, and Karl hasn’t answered my texts all week. And yeah, Special K is a crusty, homicidal hermit, so his unresponsiveness isn’t exactly an unprecedented occurrence, but the shop being closedis. Is he okay?”
Torn between irritation and reluctant warmth, Karl shook his head.
He hated that nickname. Had made the mistake of telling her so. Now he couldn’t escape it. Even the other women in that bizarro Nasty Wenches book club had started calling him Special K, despite his most fulminating glares in response.
Still, he should’ve checked his texts. It was sweet of her to check on him, and she might be a major pain in his ass, but she was a good friend too and a good partner for Matthew. Karl hadn’t heard that solemn bastard laugh so much in... ever. Never seen him so loose and happy.
“Well, if you really want to know...” Bez’s voice turned low and conspiratorial, and Karl cranked down the music a notch to hear more clearly. If she gave away his presence in the back room—“Karl’s archenemy finally caught up with him, Athena.”
Fine. She could spout all the bullshit she wanted, as long as she let him do his job undisturbed. Not like Athena would believe her anyway. That too-serious tone was a dead giveaway that Bez was joking.
Athena fake-gasped. “Was he camping?”
As if he’d ever gocamping. A bear might shit in the woods, but Karl? Nope.
“You know it,” Bez confirmed.
“So he was attacked in the desolate, unsanitary wilderness before he had a chance to strike his fatal blow against his nemesis?”
Silence. Karl imagined his clerk nodding in fake solemnity, her teal-tipped ponytail bouncing.
“Heavens to Betsy. Such tragedy,” Athena said after a few moments, her words hushed and heavy with exaggerated horror. “Are you certain there’s no way to save him?”
“It’s too late.” Bez heaved a dramatic sigh. “I hate to tell you this, but... he’s already part of this afternoon’s featured daily muffin. The lumps aren’t just dried cherries this time. They’re dried cherriesandKarl.”
Athena paused. “Are you saying today’s muffin flavor is Special K... with red berries?”
At that, the two women began snickering. Glass clicked against the marble counter out front.
“Hey, Sylvia, your—” The bell jangled, and Bez cut herself off. “Where is that woman going without her latte?”
Athena sounded unconcerned. “Maybe she saw someone she wanted to talk to. I’m sure she’ll be back. Anyway, in all seriousness, Bez, is Karl all right?”
“He’s been sick with the flu, but he’s doing better. He’s even been working in the back this morning, although he, uh...” Bez thought for a moment. “He must have stepped out just before you arrived.”
“Sure he did.” Athena raised her voice to a shout. “I know you’re back there, Special K! If you don’t want to talk to me, fine, but answer Matthew’s texts! He’s worried about you! And fair warning: Once you’re back to a hundred percent, there’ll be no escaping me and my Endless Chatter of Doom!”
His lips twitched.
