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I opened the door and recognized the voice of my bestie screeching.
My first instinct was to shut the door and run, but I looked toward the commotion and saw Amy May standing, hands on her hips, and yelling at our other two friends, Bea and Carmen. They were sitting on one of the plush couches looking up at Amy May with guilty expressions.
Uh-oh, I thought, mentally pulling on my big girl panties and walking over there.
I waved at Cynthia, who was eyeing my friends with a worried look, and gave her a reassuring smile.
“Amy May, what’s going on? Why are you screaming in the middle of the book store?” I asked softly, keeping my tone light so as not to fuel her flame.
She turned to me, eyes narrowed, and I knew it was too late. That flame was stoked.
“Can you believe this?” Amy May seethed, throwing her hand out toward Bea and Carmen. “I was walking by, minding my own business, when I look in the window to see these two Benedicts sitting in here eating her cupcakes.”
“Do you mean like, Eggs Benedict, or Benedict Arnold, cause the second one makes a bit more sense,” I asked, hoping to distract her and get her to calm down.
It didn’t work.
“Don’t get cute with me, Lila, you know very well I’m talking about the traitor . . .”
“Hey,” Bea said, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest. She was still in her police uniform, obviously having just gotten off work. “Carmen and I met here to look at books, and since they happen to serve coffee and pastries, we decided to treat ourselves. There’s nothing wrong with that, Amy May. It’s not like we’re boycotting your bakery in favor of Cynthia’s, it just happened.”
I looked at the table, and sure enough, there was a stack of historical romances, Bea’s favorite, and in front of Carmen, there were self-improvement books.
“See, it’s not a big deal,” I started, but Amy May wasn’t having it; instead, she turned on me.
“And, what are you doing here? You stepping out on me, too?” she asked, her eyes beginning to fill.
Oh no, she is going from pissed to hurt, real quick.
“No, Amy May, come on . . . You know we all love you and your baked goods to pieces. I was coming in to grab coffee, because I work tonight, and because Cynthia is my friend. I wanted to say hi. Bea and Carmen have already said they came in to shop for books . . . No one is stepping out on you.”
“Whatever,” Amy May said, wiping angrily at her cheeks. “Enjoy your books,” she told Bea and Carmen, then looked at me and said, “And, enjoy your new friend.”
I watched, mouth hanging open as she stormed out of the shop.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, swinging my head back to Bea and Carmen.
Carmen looked shocked.
“I don’t know. One minute we were talking about Bea and Shannon trying for adoption, and the next Amy May was towering over us letting it all out. I have no idea what happened, but I’ve never seen her so mad.”
“There must be something else going on,” Bea guessed. “Because she’s never blown up like that before. And, there’s no way she was just walking by, I think she saw us come in and came down to bust us.”
“Hmmm, I’ll have to check in with her and see what’s up,” I said, just as Cynthia came over.
“Everything okay?” she asked, her voice serene.
Cynthia was pure hippie with a side of gypsy. Totally co
ol with her long curly hair and flowing skirts. She had so many bracelets on her wrist, they jangled with every movement, and she had the coolest bookstore I’d ever seen.
“Yeah, sorry about that, our friend Amy May was a little upset,” I replied, then I gestured to the couch. “Have you met my friends, Bea and Carmen? Guys, this is Cynthia, the owner of this rad shop.”
“Nice to meet you, Officer,” Cynthia said to Bea, then to Carmen, “And you’re the journalist, right? I believe you did a piece on the shop after we opened. Thanks for that.”
“It was my pleasure,” Carmen said with a delighted smile.
“Nice to meet you too, you have great coffee,” Bea added.
