Page 25 of An Espresso Machine’s Guide to Love & Mischief

My heart drops into my gut like a stone through rotten ice.

“Are you sure, Diva?” Nephrite hisses.

“I don’t mind waiting,” I add. “You don’t even need to hire me for another chore. Consider this one on the house.”

“I’m sure,” Diva’s voice is tight. “Thank you for your help, Fletcher, but we’ve got it from here.”

“Diva,” Nephrite hisses.

“Neph,” Diva hisses back.

“Diiii-Vaaaaaaaa!”

“Neeeeppphhhhh.”

I glance between them. What the hell is going on?

Nephrite sighs. “Thanks again, Fletcher.” She waves Donovan over, and he skips across the lobby to join us.

“You’re welcome,” I try to sound cheerful, but it comes out as flat as a can of pop that’s been left out for too long. Something that seems to happen every time I get distracted.

I head toward the exit and pause to look over my shoulder. I can’t tell if Diva’s looking back at me, but I school my features into indifference just in case she is.

Donovan and Nephrite pick her up and slowly make their way toward the elevators. How dare this random man touch my Diva?

Except she’s not mine. She didn’t even want me to stick around. But I still wish those were my hands on her cool metal surface.

I want to race after them and take his spot hauling my beautiful espresso machine. But if I do, she’ll never get to confront Milan—and somehow, in the span of a few hours, her happiness has come to mean more to me than my own.

Sighing, I turn and head through the sliding glass doors back onto the street. Sirens wail just down the street. Flashing emergency lights reflect off nearby building windows. It’s not an uncommon sight, but I’m still curious to know what happened.

Police cruisers have blocked off a section of the road, and two ambulances are parked behind them, next to a red car that’s halfway on the curb.

Shit, it must have been an accident. Fucking drivers in this city, man. First Mrs. Ellis, and now this.

I take out my phone and open the ChorePossum app. My throat closes up like that time I tried to swallow a jawbreaker whole. I’d like to say I was a kid, but I was not. And yes, Ben did pay me ten bucks when I won that bet.

My finger hovers over the ‘mark chore as complete’ button for Nephrite and Diva’s job. If I tap it, I’ll never see her again. If I don’t, I won’t get paid—or be able to take on another chore.

I’m already short on this month’s rent, so I force myself to hit the button and accept my two hundred dollars, plus tip. Nephrite left twenty percent. I feel a wave of guilt at accepting money for carrying Diva, even though I’ve earned it.

A new job pops up almost instantly. Help a guy coordinate a flash mob for his proposal for five hundred—easy, fun, and just enough to cover rent.

But if I go, I won’t be back by the time Diva’s done confronting Milan. What if she leaves and I never see her again? Or something goes wrong and she needs my help?

What if Milan calls the police and Nephrite is arrested and Diva is unplugged and dumped in the trash and I never know, so I can’t rescue her, and… and…

I stare at the office building’s door as my finger hovers over the Accept Chore button.

Chapter 12

Diva

We exit the elevator on the top floor. Neph and Donovan carry me through a sliding glass door into a gleaming reception area. To the right, there’s a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the Toronto skyline. If I had any water left in me, I’d drool.

It’s been so long since I was somewhere with a view of anything other than the cafe and the loch across the street. The shining skyscrapers stab at the sky like spears. The CN Tower rises above them all, looking the same as it did that time a Danish drag queen and I mooned people through the glass floor. Good times.

“Welcome to Del Ray Enterprises.” The receptionist behind the desk greets us with a sunny smile.