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“I just found out that Margot’s left,” Kate sighed as she poured the coffee into a mug for Tom, the bittersweet aroma hitting her. She grabbed another mug and poured one for herself, too. Caffeine was definitely much needed today.
“Left? Where?” Tom twisted his baseball cap backwards and gratefully accepted the coffee.
“Gone to Rockapalooza.” Kate shrugged, showing him the crumpled letter. “It’s her big break, apparently.”
“We’re talking about the same tone-deaf Margot that was always warbling around here, right?” Tom’s incredulous expression made Kate laugh, and she was grateful for it.
“Yes, the very same.”
“She’ll be back.” Tom grinned. “No chance that one’s making it on the world stage.”
“I don’t think I’d take her back if she came, though. I need someone I can rely on, you know?”
Kate’s heart sank as she considered her options. She’d been through dozens of staff in the last year alone, all leaving for one bizarre reason or another. She was starting to think that it was her — after all, she was the common denominator in the situation. But they all professed to enjoy the job, only that it wasn’t their passion.
The problem was, this cafewasher passion. Her passion and her whole life. And her inability to keep help in the building long enough to actually give her a chance to expand and grow it was seriously thwarting her dreams for the place. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to run her own business like Edna had thought when she left it to her?
“What are you going to do?” Tom’s question jolted her back to reality.
“I honestly don’t know.”
“You can’t run everything by yourself, Kate. Even you’re not that good. Although this is a damn good cup of coffee.”
Kate smiled and took a sip of her own cup. Itwasgood coffee.
“I know. I’ll figure something out. I always do.”
That was the truth, wasn’t it? This was hardly the greatest challenge that Kate had faced in her twenty-five years, it was just the latest in a long line. She’d always found a solution before, she’d always managed to make it work. The problem was that she was tired. Tired of doing it all on her own, tired of having to get creative, tired of nothing ever running smoothly for her. Other people seemed to have an easy ride of it, why couldn’t that be her?
The bell on the door of the cafe dinged, signaling the arrival of her next batch of morning customers, so she plastered on a smile to hide the whirr of anxiety that was churning in her stomach as she poured coffee, made breakfasts and listened to the small talk of her fellow townsfolk while trying to keep all the plates spinning — not literally, of course — and everyone fed and happy. Everyone except herself, of course. There wasn’t time for that.
CHAPTER3
EMILE
Emile forced himself to smile at the flight attendant who had brought him a glass of champagne. It wasn’t her fault that his parents had kicked him out of the country.
If there was one thing he’d learned as a royal, it was that it always paid to give the people what they wanted; it only took one harsh word or a missed ‘thank you’ when receiving service before the gossip mill was turning against you. People talked. Particularly about their encounters with royalty. After all, how often were you serving the Prince of Charcieux champagne on board your flight? Even if it was only the one who was third in line to the throne. That still meant something to most people.
Usually, Emile didn’t have trouble raising a smile, especially for pretty flight attendants who blushed when he thanked them for looking after him so well. If it had been another day, one where he hadn’t just been exiled, he’d definitely have been asking for her number and taking her for a drink once they landed. Not that you had to have a pretty face to be worthy of a little politeness. Emile may have the reputation of being a bad boy, but he wasn’t a total douchebag. Or at least, he liked to think that he wasn’t. His parents’ actions today had started worming their way under his skin and he was beginning to doubt himself.
He’d packed as much stuff as he could carry and headed straight to the airport. Luckily, there were other perks of being royal, which meant he hadn’t had to face the crowds queuing for their flights, no doubt scrolling through the gossip about him on their phones as they waited in line. He may have been exiled, but he still got to bypass the usual security checks, and he’d been on a plane to Arizona in no time. As soon as he’d heard the option from the list of flights the concierge had read out to him, he’d jumped on it; Rockapalooza was about to start and where better to forget his troubles than a music festival in the desert? Given the festival’s wild reputation, he mightliterallybe able to forget, which would be very welcome right now.
Sipping on the champagne, his hangover finally started to ease as the crisp bubbles burst on his tongue, and he fired up his trusty group chat. If you wanted to get into some trouble, these were the guys to find it for you. And since he was already in more trouble than he’d ever been before, what was the harm in a little more? He might as well make exile fun.
Emile: Change of plan, boys. I’m on the way to Rockapalooza. Care to join?
Logan: Baby, you don’t need to tell me twice.
Jacques: Thought you’d never ask. I’m already in Cali, I’ll meet you there.
Raphael: I’ve already got some Airstreams booked. Give them my name at the gate, they’ll sort you out.
Logan: Who’s bringing the absinthe?
Emile: Never again.
Jacques: You were wasted last night, bro.
