“Will do.” I shuttered the phone and shoved it into my pocket. Sebastian and Lizzie were only a few steps from the counter now. “Sorry. Haven’t had much time for a break today.”
“I can tell,” Sebastian said. “You look like shit.”
Yeah. I was getting way too far ahead of myself thinking this man had any romantic interest in me.
Lizzie gasped. Shoving her elbow into her uncle’s ribs, she shot him a look. “She looks beautiful. Watch your mouth.”
Laughing, I headed to the espresso machine for their usuals. “Tell him, Liz.”
“I didn’t mean that you literally look like shit,” Sebastian said quickly. “You look good. You always look good. But you look tired.”
“You’d be tired too if you were working on eighteen cakes in a four-hour shift.” As his java brewed, I propped my hands on my hips. “And managing the front at the same time.”
“You deserve a raise.” Lizzie leaned against the counter, trying her best to get a better view inside the pastry case. “Are those eclairs any good?”
“Delicious,” I said, starting that way. “How many do you want?”
“Three, please,” she said. “Sebastian told me we were rehearsing together tomorrow. Right?”
I had completely forgotten about that. But like Simone said, it was best not to alter our schedules right now.
“That’s the plan,” I told her. “What are we working on again?”
“That’s the thing. I don’t know. I have to decide on a song, classic or current, and prepare a performance. How do you decide that sort of thing? Like, when you’re preparing a set and choosing which songs to play, what are the deciding factors?”
Collecting all her eclairs into a pastry bag, I raised my shoulders. “It depends.”
“On what, exactly?”
“What style are you going for?” I handed her the bag of eclairs over the pastry case. “What do you enjoy the most? Is there any particular song you can’t get out of your head? Something that means a lot to you that you want to show to other people?”
She nibbled her lower lip. “I could probably think of a couple.”
“Pick three, and we’ll learn them all.” I returned to the espresso machine and finished up Sebastian’s Americano. As I passed it to him over the register, I smiled at Lizzie. “Once you have them nailed, then you’ll have a few to choose from for your recital. How’s that sound?”
Light shined in those big blue eyes. It reminded me of her uncle, but his had a shroud of something over top. A subtle gauzeof darkness that I doubted he would ever share with the rest of the world.
Smiling wider, Lizzie nodded. “That sounds perfect. I’m excited.”
“She really is,” Sebastian said, laying a twenty on the counter. “Hasn’t shut up about it since I told her.”
Lizzie narrowed her gaze. “You’re annoying.”
“Must be where you get it from.”
A roll of her eyes. “Whatever. I’m going to wait in the car.” A smile for me. “See you tomorrow, Gwen.”
Returning the smile, I waved. I went back to counting out Sebastian’s change, and he cleared his throat.
Was I the one making this interaction weird? Or was it him? To distinguish, I said, “You good?”
“Uh. I wasn’t trying to be an asshole,” he said. “You really don’t look bad. I just—You look great. I mean it. You always look great.”
This was what they meant when they saidmixed signals, wasn’t it? “Thanks?”
Judging by the slump of his shoulders and the tight line he pressed his lips to, that wasn’t the response he was hoping for. “I just meant you look like you’re having a hard day. I was trying to give you an opportunity to vent about it.”
Usually, Sebastian and I talked about my dog, or one of Rhiannon’s sick cows, or a piece of art, or current events, or whatever drama there was at the ranch this week. From time to time, we would bitch about my broken-down car or that he was in a rush to pick Lizzie up from school.
