“Sounds great. I’ll make you one of our house special drinks to try and grab a couple of our top sellers. Are you allergic to anything at all?”
“That sounds perfect, and nope. No allergies here.”
We have so many things that people love, it’s almost difficult to choose. I grab a box and some wax paper, landing on four differentpastries. Our buttery croissant, maple scone, fudge brownie and of course, the cranberry orange muffin. There’s still a few left here; maybe I’ll drop some off to Cora later on.
I sit his box on the counter and pull a few things out as the grinder turns coffee beans into grounds, and I start his drink.
“So, what do you do for fun around here?”
“Not a lot, actually. Occasionally a band plays at this bar on the outskirts of town,” I tell him and internally wince at the memory of the last time we were there.Girls’ night, my ass!
“Oh really? What’s it called?”
“TheGravel Pit.”
“That sounds like a good time. I’ll have to check it out sometime. Maybe I’ll see you there,” he offers suggestively.
“You never know.” I shrug noncommittedly as I slide his drink across the counter.
“It was great to meet you.” He reaches for the box, tucking it under his arm, then cradles his drink in his hand. Jake lets out a groan as he takes a sip of our signature Honey Vanilla latte. It was Mara’s idea, and at first I was apprehensive, but it tastes amazing.
“Same. I hope you come see us again.”
“Oh, I’ll definitely be back,” Jake promises, tipping his cup in my direction. “Thanks again.”
As soon as he exits, I grab the cloth and resume wiping down the counters. Mara should be back soon, and I think I’m ready to call it a day.
Like I’ve summoned her myself, Mara’s voice chirps through the lobby as she approaches the counter, bank bag in hand. “How were my little elves in my absence?”
I pin her with a look. When I was seven, I dressed up like a gnome for Halloween, and Mara has called me an elf ever since. It’s not even the same thing. “Are you ever nice?”
“That’s all you, Mils. You’re more capable of being friendly.” She brushes past me, heading for our small office.
I trail after her, trying to not feel defensive again. “Why do I feel like that’s not a compliment?” I stand in the doorway of the office and watch as she files the slips away.
“I couldn’t tell ya, Mils. We are who we are. You’re just the nicer one.”
“Well, at least one of us is.”
“Could you imagine if we were both nice?” She shudders. “Mom and Dad would have been so bored with us.”
I recall some of the stuff we put our parents through as kids and laugh. We used to pretend to be each other, and it worked well until Mara started to alter her appearance. It’d be impossible now.
“That is true. They did get a two-for-one deal after all. Had to get their money’s worth.”
“Exactly. We balance each other perfectly, Mils. You’re the light to my dark, the thumbs-up to my middle finger.”
“You make it sound like you’re a monster, Mara. You aren’t that bad,” I chide gently.
“Well, I guess that just depends on who you are and who you ask,” she responds, walking past me. “Back to work, my favorite Little Elf. Those brownies won’t make themselves.”
“Of course. I live to serve you, your majesty.” I mockingly bow.
“Thanks, peasant!” she hollers as she pushes through the kitchen door, toward the front.
I chuckle and pull out ingredients for a small batch of brownies, but only because I’m going to take some to Cora for Noah. It’s definitely not because Mara told me to.
Chapter Seventeen
