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It’s not just about winning the bet with Kingston anymore, though. I want that, but I also want to actually get to know Indie. I’ve never been so intrigued by a woman before. Indie is friendly to me, but she refuses my advances with a shrug. She’s the polar opposite of the puck bunnies who look at me with hearts in their eyes.
“She’s not here,” Angie says as soon as she sees me.
Kylie gives me a puzzled look. “Who’s not here?”
“Do you know when she works next?” I ask Angie.
“Oh, you didn’t hear?”
My heart pounds a little harder. “Hear what?”
“She quit yesterday. She got a new job and V—” She looks over her shoulder and then gestures for me to move closer.
I approach the register and she dramatically whispers, “Virgil was so pissed, he told her not to bother offering a two-week notice. I think he had a thing for her.”
“Shit,” I mutter. “Where’s her new job at?”
Angie pulls a business card from a pocket in the apron she’s wearing and passes it to me.
“She said to give you this if you came in asking about her.”
I look down at the card.
Indira Garrison
Designer
Wright Designs
There’s a phone number and email address at the bottom. I look up at Angie, grinning.
“Designer? Like graphic design?”
She scrunches her face in confusion. “It’s something to do with art, but I’m not one-hundred-percent sure what. She was so happy when she told me she was leaving. She cried.”
My heart swells with happiness for Indie. Of course someone snagged her away from this place. But then I frown down at the business card in my hand. Indie’s amazing. What if this new job involves working with single men who will be able to hit on her all day, every day?
“Thanks,” I tell Angie, turning away from the register.
“Uncle Pike, what about the cookies?” Jasmine asks.
“Oh, yeah. Just pick a bunch out and we’ll take some extra home.”
Jasmine lights up as Angie grabs a box to pack the cookies in. Kylie gives me a quizzical look.
“Who are you looking for?” she asks. “Don’t think I didn’t notice when you ignored me the first time.”
“Her name’s Indie. She worked here until yesterday, apparently.”
My sister grins. “You’ve got the hots for a barista.”
“You’d really like her.”
“When do I get to meet her?”
I frown. “Uh…I haven’t convinced her to go out with me yet.”
Kylie nods at the business card in my hand. “She obviously wants to hear from you.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna call her.”
“Tell me everything about her. How did you meet?”
The memory of meeting Indie for the first time makes me smile. “We met when she chewed my ass out at practice one day.”
“I like her already.”
Angie passes the box of cookies over the counter.
“If Indie won’t go out with you, I will,” she quips as I pay for the cookies. “Just sayin’.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Jasmine has a cookie in her hand as we walk out of the coffee shop. Kylie takes her hand as we walk down the block, and she glances over at me.
“Do women just hit on you out of nowhere like that all the time?”
I shrug. “It happens.”
“So they don’t care if you’re a serial killer? They just want to go out with you because they think you’re hot?”
“What’s a serial killer?” Jasmine asks.
“Ask me again in five years,” Kylie answers.
“I guess some women are more superficial than others,” I say with a shrug. “But Indie’s not.”
“You’ll have to be more than just a pretty face, then.”
“I’m working on it, sis.”
On the walk back to my SUV, I slide Indie’s business card into a safe spot in my wallet. I plan to call her tonight. It’s time to up my game.
Chapter Eleven
Indie
* * *
I look from my reflection in the mirror and then over to my sister, and then back at the mirror again.
“I can’t do this, Rue. I feel like an impostor. I don’t even look like me.”
She puts a hand on my shoulder. “Stop that shit. This suit fits you perfectly, but don’t get too attached because I want it back when I lose the twenty pounds I’ve put on in the past two years.”
“It’s not just the suit.”
“What then?” She gives me an aggravated glare. “Do you feel like you belong in a Just Brew It polo forever? Because if you never want more for yourself, you’ll never have more.”
“Rue.” I turn to her. “My whole life has been turned upside down in the past six weeks. It’s a lot to process. I didn’t think I’d have a chance at a career in the art field for another ten years at least.”
“So you got a chance a little bit sooner than planned. Cynthia saw something in you. You’re flying to LA tonight to meet clients with her. This is fabulous, and instead of being happy, you’re wallowing around in how undeserving you are.”
