Page 13 of Where Roads Lead

It wasn’t often I felt like an idiot, and I wasn’t about to let this new girl turn me into one.

Luckily, she followed me without a fight.

“What do you want?” I asked, feeling a bit more clearheaded now that I was behind the counter.

“Iced vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon. Please.”

Sprinkle of cinnamon? I rolled my eyes.

I moved to go make the drink, not bothering to put it into the register. Then paused.

“Name for the order?” I added as an afterthought.

“Elsie.”

I nodded, then felt stupid for doing so, because her name didn’t warrant any form of acknowledgment, and then busied myself with preparing it before I could embarrass myself further.

I pushed the drink across the counter to her, watching her light up at the sight of it. Simple girl, if coffee made her eyes sparkle like that.

“On me,” I told her before she could slide a debit card out of the back of her phone case.

It was supposed to be an offering of good faith, so hopefully we would never have to relive one of these charged encounters again. I should’ve known that with her, it wouldn’t be that simple.

“I can’t take this without paying.”

I exhaled deeply.

“Yes, you can.”

“No way,” she said, prepared to duke it out once more.

“Elsie,” I said firmly, running a hand over my face, feeling utterly exhausted by the last ten minutes of my life. “For my own sanity, just take the damned coffee, please. You’ll be doing me a favor.”

“Fine,” she told me, shoving a handful of dollars into the tip jar. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I matched her tone, watching as she turned to leave.

“Nice to meet you, Ava,” Elsie said as she left, and my eyes widened at the realization Ava was behind the counter next to me.

It was partially her place too, in theory at least, since she’d inherited my brother’s share. I had no problem with her being back there.

What I did have a problem with was the fact that my head was apparently so clouded, I hadn’t even noticed she was there.

She waited until Elsie was out the door before she turned to me with something like accusation in her eyes. “What was that about?”

“What?”

“I’ve never seen you like that with someone.”

“I’ve never encountered someone like that.” I gestured wildly toward the door Elsie had left from, trying to defend whatever rude behavior I figured she was referring to.

She pursed her lips. Usually, her way of letting the conversation die, while letting me know she was unsatisfied with the conclusion of it.

I turned, busying myself with cleaning the espresso machine, if only so I had something else to focus on.

“You never ask anyone’s name when you take their coffee order,” she said with a frown.

And yet Ava wasn’t done.