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I love my job, but right now, a chisel is chipping away at that love.
I want time,needtime, to see where this can go with Alessandra. When I return to Seattle, I will talk to Dad. Explain the situation and tell him where my head is in all of it. Ask for his advice. If left up to me, I may not make the wisest decision.
“Wish I had answers.” My thumb slowly strokes hers. “All I know is, I don’t want this to be it.”
“Me either,” she whispers, barely audible.
I spear a piece of pancake and sliced banana, swiping it through the puddle of syrup on the plate. Holding the loaded tines in her direction, I feed her.
“Then it won’t be. Promise.”
Whatever it takes, I plan to stick to my promise. Even if it means me driving back and forth between Seattle and Lake Lavender throughout the week. Though I want more, I will take whatever I can get until we figure out a better solution. Until we get every day together. No matter how long it takes, Alessandra is worth the wait.
CHAPTER27
ALESSANDRA
“Java and Teas Me, Lessa speaking. How may I help you?” Subtle white noise fills the phone line. Pain lances my knuckles as I squeeze the phone handset. “How may I help you?” I repeat with more gusto.
This is the fifth call this week where the person on the other end says nothing. When I asked the employees if they’d answered any similar calls, they shook their heads. Mandi had a few hang-up calls this week, but we got those every now and again. I always assume those are solicitors or wrong numbers. But maybe they aren’t either. Maybe it is the same person that makes my mouth go dry. That makes me pick at my cuticles until they bleed.
“Must be a bad connection,” I lie. “Try calling back from a different phone.” I drop the handset in the holder, lean back in the chair, close my eyes, and exhale the breath I’d been holding.
I inhale and exhale a few steadying breaths then open my eyes. Straightening in my desk chair, I shake the mouse next to the keyboard. The sunset dipping below the horizon of the lake flashes to life on the screen. I take another cleansing breath and try to locate my zen.
A fraction calmer, I double-click the Mission: Watchdog Security app on the desktop. A dashboard pops up on the screen with alerts, communications from the security company, and a few of the many live feeds from the installed cameras.
After the spray paint vandalism, I caved and had a security system installed. Enough cameras outside to catch anyone approaching from any angle. A handful of discreet cameras inside, nestled in the crooks of machinery and sandwiched between art. Sensors on the windows and doors are only disengaged during business hours. And my least favorite… three panic buttons—one in the office, another under the service counter, and the last hidden under the kitchen prep table near the ranges.
I want my employees to feel safe. I want everyone who thinks about coming into Java and Teas Me to feel safe. But this all feels too much. Cameras and sirens and panic buttons. One unanswered call or bad password given to the security company and police will flock to this place like the FBI’s most wanted is inside.
Whoever the hell this is—the weird social media messages, the spray paint, the bizarre phone calls—I am over it. At my wits’ end. Done.
Perusing the overnight camera feed, I see nothing out of the ordinary. I close out the app, pay a few of the vendor bills, and exit the office.
“Where’s that smile I love?” August says as I step into the kitchen.
His presence has always been a burst of sunshine. Aside from his skills in the kitchen, his radiant energy is the top reason I hired him. August might be having the worst day on the planet and he still finds a reason to smile. Who doesn’t want that kind of joy in their life?
I lift my hands to my face, rub my eyes, drag my fingertips to my temples and sigh heavily. As the last of the exhale leaves my lungs, I use every muscle in my face to tip up the corners of my mouth.
“It’s only been a couple weeks and I am tired of all this extra security nonsense.” I step around the prep table and wash my hands in the sink near one of the ranges. “Logically, I know having the cameras and alarms protects all of us and the business.” I shut the water off and tear off paper towels from the holder. “But it makes me feel likeIdid something wrong. LikeI’mbeing punished instead of the person causing the damage.” I toss the towels in the bin. “Ugh. It irritates the hell out of me, but there’s no alternative.”
August wraps an arm around my shoulder and hauls me to his side. Beside him, I feel small. It’s not that August is feet taller. More like his spirit makes him larger than life.
“Baby girl, there will always be someone trying to knock you down. And each time they do, you stand right back up and flip ’em the bird.” He hugs me a little tighter. “Life is way too short to give your energy to someone who doesn’t deserve it.” He releases me and smirks. “Save your energy for that handsome fellow. The one that makes your whole body smile.” I cock a brow at him. “Oh, I see the way you two go all googly-eyed when he’s here. I may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but I know love when I see it.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Errrt. Pull the emergency brake, bucko. Love? As in L-O-V-E?
“Um, I have no clue what you’re—”
August holds up his hands. “Look, I get it. Everything is all new and shiny with him. But baby girl, I’ve been there.” He steps into me and lays a hand on each shoulder. “May not be what you expected, but it doesn’t make it any less true.”
I toy with my apron strings, dropping my gaze to follow the action. “Can we talk about something else?” I avert my gaze to the table. “What are you making? Maybe I’ll help.”
Something akin to pity fills his eyes, but I refuse to give it any attention. Instead, I focus on the table. Focus on the ingredients August is cutting for sides, quiche, and frittata. Grab my own knife and join in on the task. Monotonous. Tedious. Something that requires my full attention. And for a small blip of time, I zone out at the prep table with rock music playing from the Bluetooth speaker.
Braydon
