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Did Sam break up with you?
Jay: I broke up with her but we weren’t even really together. She wasn’t you.
I’ve had it.
With a hurt snicker, I pull up my contacts and block his number.
“Coffee for Nevermore!” A barista sets a large cup down loudly.
I grab the coffee and weighty box of Regis rolls and flounce out the door, but I can’t get to my bike.
What now? I think with a huff.
There’s some random guy about the same height as Jay with the same mousy-blond hair strumming what sounds like folk music on a six string. He’s not the reason I can’t get to my bike, though.
A barefoot woman dances around madly a couple feet away, wearing a full-blown semi-formal wedding dress. Loose ringlets cascade down her back with every turn, but she’s between me and my bike.
Awesome.
Portland might be the weird capitol of the Pacific Northwest, but Seattle isn’t that far behind for the silver medal.
I shouldn’t be so pissed. At least they aren’t hassling anyone or blocking traffic.
It isn’t fair to hate Guitar Man for resembling Jay, either. Betrayal shouldn’t course through my blood so deep, but it does.
I try to go around the dancer, but she smacks into me mid-twirl.
The coffee cup crunches between us.
My mouth falls open in slow motion. Then I feel it before I see it.
Scalding liquid runs down my torso, biting my skin through the fabric.
“Ow!” I tumble down on the sidewalk, sandwiched between the pavement and the street dancer, who’s somehow landed on top of me.
“My dress—it’s ruined!” she shrieks, jumping to her feet like only a bride with a soiled wedding dress can.
I scrape myself off the ground and stumble to my feet, thoroughly annoyed.
“That’s probably why most people don’t dance around in their wedding dress in front of a busy shop,” I bite off.
“But we’re getting married!” she says, her lips curled in agony. “And now—now I have to do it with a coffee stain.”
Perish the thought.
I can’t bring myself to apologize. I just glare, my already low empathy tank has no fumes to spare.
“This is where we met,” she prattles on, oblivious to my death stare. “Our friend is coming to officiate. You just crashed my wedding...”
Oh, hell. For all that’s holy, Jay abandoned me for this kind of utter bullshit. I have exactly zero patience for it.
“Welcome to the club. If it makes you feel better, someone ruined my wedding, too. But if your guy’s still here and ready to put a ring on it, I’d hardly call that ruined.” I’m still holding the crushed cup and I give it another loud crunch in my palm.
Then I move to the trash can in front of Sweeter Grind and toss it.
“You deserved it, bitch! Karma!” she shouts after me.
I don’t look back because I have a bigger problem now. I raise the half-attached lid on the box of Regis rolls and groan.
They’re spattered in coffee and half their icing was ripped off in the fall. I toss them too and go back into the coffee shop.
There’s no chance I’ll be on time today. I dare Burns to raise hell about it.
“Nevermore?” The guy behind the counter looks up. “You’re back and covered in coffee? Tell you what, the new drink is on the house. Nasty spill out there.”
I wave my hand. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a company expense, but I need the same order again...”
“Will do.”
This time, when I walk out of Sweeter Grind with my new goods, guitar dude and his panicked lady are standing in front of a guy lecturing them about the evils of 5G wireless signals and trying to sell them what looks like a tinfoil 'shield' stretched over cardboard.
Only in Seattle. I roll my eyes and hop on my bike.
When I get to work, Burns stands outside of his office with his arms crossed like a pissed off teacher waiting for the last straggler from recess to show up.
With a sigh I don’t even hide, I walk up to him and shove the loot into his arms.
He snatches the cup out of my hand, sloshing me with a few beads of piping hot coffee for the second time today.
“Sorry about that.” Before I can respond, though, he snaps, “Come on in. We need to talk.”
What the frick now?
I follow him into his office, glaring at the box of Regis rolls as they land on his desk.
He slams the door behind me and waits for me to sit, silent as the grave.
Cool. What crawled up his butt this time?
My phone goes off.
“Is that important?” He falls into his office chair, pointing.
“I wouldn’t think so. You’re here.” I shrug. “I guess it could be my mom.”
Somehow, I don’t think I’m that lucky. Jay probably found a dummy number by now to keep blowing up my messages.
He nods.
