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“Miss Janssen, about your tenancy—”
I raise my hand. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to take a raincheck. I start my new job today and I’m already running late.”
I head for the door, but am stopped when Lucian lifts his arm, blocking the frame. Standing feet away, he leans in closer. “I don’t recall a single spot of rain on my journey here.”
Instinct tells me to back away, but I don’t. My gaze travels down to the perfect Cupid’s bow of his lips, lips that are inches from mine. I have no option other than to breathe him in. His breath holds a minty freshness, the essence of coffee lingering with each exhale. We lock eyes, and for a second, I imagine us to be the only people in the room.
How can someone so conceited and self-absorbed look so good? His features are strong, accompanied by a trim beard that frames his jaw and mouth. His skin doesn’t appear to have been kissed by the sun but possesses a naturally bronzed hue, his hair a dark brown with flecks of gold running the length. But his eyes, his eyes are what have me hypnotised. Vibrant and intoxicating, they’re the deepest shade of green I have ever seen. I stand, completely absorbed by the moment, completely absorbed by him.
“The rain is metaphorical,” I stutter, trying to slow the erratic beating of my heart. “Much like the metaphorical storm I’ll bring home with me if I lose my job.”
“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Lucian says with an amused expression on his face.
“No,” I answer quickly. My gaze is transfixed on his eyes and their many shades of green.
“So then, leave.”
I blink and notice his arm is no longer blocking my way. I hurry from the staff room and wonder how long I stood lost in the moment, gazing into his stupid, hypnotic eyes.
“I’ll be seeing you, Chelsea,” are the words that follow me as I exit the shop.
I pull into the car park at Hazelwood Farm and park outside the café. It is a cute one-story building, the walls pink like candyfloss.
I turn off the engine and slide out of my car to be greeted by Wren Richardson, the farmer’s daughter. I had the pleasure of meeting her a few days ago when I came for an interview. At first she seemed reluctant to give me the job, but my friend Cole managed to talk her around.
Her long auburn hair whips in the breeze as she extends her hand. When it comes to introductions I am usually more of a hugger, but from the rigid way Wren holds herself I know she is not.
I take her hand and shake enthusiastically. “Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to work here. I promise I won’t let you down.”
Wren’s eyes widen and she wriggles her hand from my vice grip. “Like I told you on Friday, the job isn’t permanent, and the position will be on a rolling six-week contract.”
I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Honestly, that’s perfect.”
The corner of Wren’s mouth quirks up, and she spins around. “Follow me. I have your uniform laid out ready and paperwork for you to fill in. I’ll show you the ropes. I’ll have to leave you to go check on one of the beehives, but I won’t be long…”
Wren continues talking about her bees. She talks while I fill out the paperwork, all the way through the induction video and doesn’t stop talking until—like her—I am clad in a green Hazelwood Farm T-shirt and shorts.
Before Wren leaves to check on her hives, she introduces me to her sister, Avery Connors, and her husband Joe, who work side by side in the kitchen. I will be waitressing along with their daughter, Brooke, whilst Maddie works the till. As well as my duties, there is a lot to remember. I don’t have a chance to think as orders come in. Luckily, it doesn’t take long for me to memorise table numbers and deliver food in a timely fashion.
Wren arrives just in time for the afternoon rush. Customers line up at the till. The queue is so long that it spills out of the door.
“The café never used to get this busy,” the elderly lady I am serving complains. I’m unsure if she is speaking to me or the woman who is sitting opposite. I don’t know what to say in response, so smile as I place their Caesar salads down in front of them.
I take a step back, and in doing so nearly crash into Wren. She flashes a glance at the elderly woman before turning her attention to me. She gestures for me to follow her, and I do. When we are out of earshot, she speaks. “Mrs Andrews is right. The café used to be quiet, that is before the construction workers began work here.” Although her expression remains neutral, something about her tone tells me that she isn’t happy about the fact.
“I’m friends with three of the construction workers,” I tell her. “Rick is my sister’s fiancé, and Seth is marrying my best friend Lizzie at the end of the month. Her big brother is the project manager…”
“Cole,” Wren answers for me. I don’t miss the way her cheeks flush red at the mention of his name. She doesn’t wait around long enough for me to ask questions, and hurries to take her next order.
Humming to myself, I make my way around the café. I carry a plate containing a ham sandwich to table nine. At the same time, my gaze sweeps the room to see if any tables need cleaning in readiness for the next customer.
I stop dead, my heart slamming into my chest. Sitting alone at a window table is none other than Lucian Calloway. I’ve been so busy that I didn’t see him come in. But he has seen me and makes a point of keeping his gaze trained on every move I make.
He followed me, there is no other explanation for why he is here. I’m about to head over to him and demand answers when Cole sits at the seat across from Lucian. They appear to be deep in conversation, though Lucian does not take his eyes off me. Blocking Lucian out of my mind, I continue to serve and am relieved to see Wren deliver a silver tray containing drinks to their table.
All I have to do is ignore him and pretend he isn’t even here.
How hard can that be?
