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REMI
On Friday, I woke up early, going through a series of poses on my yoga mat to gently wake up my muscles and center myself.
Even though I’d cleaned up the store, the constant reminders of what happened frayed my nerves. There was the broken fridge in the back and customers asking about it.
Showering and dressing quickly, I stopped downstairs for a coffee from Java Coffee. Usually, I avoided caffeine, but the stress from the past few days interrupted my sleep.
The coffee shop was a combination coffee shop and bookstore. Its paneled walls, overstuffed leather chairs, and stacks of books were warm and inviting. There was even a shelf filled with games. At this time of the morning, there were only a few people working at the tables with their laptops.
The owner, Brooke, slid my cup across the counter. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
I sipped the hot coffee. “The break-in’s messing with my good vibes.”
Brooke was a good friend and knew about my desire to keep a positive outlook.
She grimaced. “I heard about that. I’m sorry.”
I shrugged, the tension in my shoulders from the last few days still there. “He only got the small bit of cash I keep in the register.”
She winced. “You shouldn’t keep anything in the drawer.”
I sighed. “I know.”
“At the Shops on Main meeting, Officer Castle said to be more careful.”
“I am.” My lips pursed at the mention of Colton.
“If you need anything, let me know.” Brooke’s gaze drifted to the door when someone came in.
“I will.”
“We need to do a girls’ night soon.” She waved before moving to help the next customer.
“Absolutely.” I returned her wave, walking out into the early morning sunshine. Our friends tried to meet for brunch once a month, but they were starting to pair off with significant others, and our get-togethers were becoming fewer and farther between.
I detoured from my usual morning walk to check on my most prized possession, my Volkswagen Beetle. It was baby blue and represented my personality, light and happy. The bug, I was proud of. The stack of parking tickets under the wipers? Not so much.
I rarely drove it, which was the reason I got so many tickets. I’d park it in a two-hour zone, then promptly forget about moving it until I checked on it a few days later. Frankly, I was lucky it hadn’t been towed.
Groaning, I placed my coffee on the hood. Grabbing the tickets, I rifled through the stack to see Colton’s name on most of them.
“You like getting parking tickets?”
I jumped, my hand going over my heart. Seeing Colton standing a few feet away, I said, “Jesus. You scared me.”
“You should be more aware of your surroundings.”
“Nothing happens in the morning.” I cringed, knowing he’d think that was a naïve thing to say.
He raised a brow.
“Are you worried about me or where I park my car?” I stuffed the parking tickets in my oversize purse and swiped my coffee cup from the hood, heading in the direction of my store with none of the peace I usually felt in the morning.
Colton fell in step with me. “Both. Everything.”
“You know, you could just look the other way, or leave me alone.” I was talking about my car.
“I can’t ignore blatant violations of parking restrictions.”
