Page 13 of To Love the Stars too Fondly

Guess it had, and blaring red signs in her visage screamed at me to stop this line of questioning.

For once, I listened. “So…real estate?” I said, hoping it was an interesting segue. “Do you not have Daddy’s money?”

To my surprise, Alex shook her head. “My dad doesn’t have the money. My mom is the Winthrop. He took her last name. And, uh, no. Not anymore. I got my start in investing when I still had an allowance. Thank God, because I’d be homeless. She and I don’t talk anymore.”

“Oh.” I understood. My own extended family hadn’t been in the picture for almost ten years. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. She’s a bitch.”

“Fair enough. What a fucking bitch.”

Alex burst into laughter. I’d done something right. “Can’t relate to the Mommy Issues,” I continued. “I don’t talk to my extended family though. They’re all out East. Strong Evangelical roots there. They, uh, cut me off when I got a girlfriend in high school, and they cut my mom off for not cutting me off.”

“Good on your mom, at least.”

I nodded. “She’s a great mom.”

The conversation stayed light after that. 9 o’clock soon came, my phone alarm ringing to remind me to lock the doors. I tried to hide my disappointment as I bagged the trash can by the door. “I have to kick you out now. Sorry, rich girl.”

Alex’s hand went to her pocket. “And you’re really not going to let me pay? It’s my third free coffee in a row.”

“Coffee is cheap. There are probably better ways to thank you.”

That sounded weird.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Alex said, not a hint of implication in her tone. “Get home safe, all right?”

I glanced despondently at the pouring rain but forced a smile. “You too.”

The tension returned as Alex lingered at the door. “Uh, text me if you want me to have your number, by the way,” she said. “You have my card.”

I prayed my blush wasn’t too apparent. “Will do.”

Alex gave me that fuckboy wink, leaving me more flustered than I would ever admit, and stepped into the dark night, running to escape the rain.

When I locked the door behind her, I peered through to see if I could identify her car but faced an empty street. Not that I had much interest in cars, but who wouldn’t wonder what a disowned heiress would drive?

I couldn’t keep her out of my head as I attempted to count the register, the numbers jumbled as I replayed our conversation. Just the fact that we’d had one was strange. It was so easy to talk to her, so easy to forget there was a world of rain and wind beyond the door and take solace inside this little shop.

All those nice thoughts left, however, when I opened the back door to take out the trash, blasted by the aforementioned rain and wind. Dammit. I’d either be walking my bike home or waiting until 10 when Chase could arrive.

With final closing procedures done, I did a quick check back inside but hesitated before putting my apron on the hook. Maybe keeping it as an extra layer wouldn’t be a bad idea, but it wasn’t technically mine, and I wasn’t about to pay to get it cleaned if I ruined it. And even though Mom had reminded me, I didn’t have a jacket, just my white button-down, which would get me an entry in a wet t-shirt contest in this weather.

I stepped back outside, the door locking automatically behind me. My store keys were suddenly quite the tempting treasure as I stared despondently at my bike. I could just stay. I probably wouldn’t even get home by 10. My teeth already chattered, my arms instinctively wrapping around myself as the wind sprayed water even under the slight lip of the roof protecting me from the downpour.

Waiting until 10 for a ride was winning the debate, but…I still felt ill from yesterday.

Headlights suddenly spotlighted me. I froze as a car approached, then found my bearings and fumbled with my keys. Cliff. It had to be. I shook too violently to jam them into the lock. Dammit, dammit, dammit!

“You’re going to bike home in this weather?”

Alex?

I turned, and there sat Alex, window rolled down, and judging by the soft LEDs lining the car’s interior, this was a vehicle worth more than my yearly earnings.

Too cold to feel judgement or relief, I tucked the keys into my pocket, doing a fine job of pretending I hadn’t just had a near panic attack. “It’s the best way to upkeep my mermaid hair.”

Alex stared incredulously, droplets of water splattering inside the window. “Get in.”