AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I look past Hector and see Luke carrying a cardboard box overflowing with other cardboard boxes to the back of his shop. “I told him to keep the noise down this morning, but somehow I doubt that’s why he’s quiet.”
Marisol, a barista who works here a few days a week while her kids are in school, hands me a giant glass of ice water from behind the bar. “You always know exactly what I need, Marisol. Thank you.”
“You’ve been working too hard, and it’s hotter in here than usual,” she says before hurrying back to work.
“She has a good point, Allie. When was the last time you took a day off?” Hector asks, arching a dark brow at me knowingly.
“I don’t have time for days off right now, Hector. You know that.” He should know better than anyone. We’ve been talking all week about options for a newTurbinelocation. Between that and running the shop, I can’t afford to take time off.
Hector shakes his head and pulls out a brown paper package with a striped ribbon, handing it to me. “Open this. It’s for you.”
A gift?Unwrapping it, I find an orange pen and a toffee-colored leather notebook, detailed with floral embossing. “What’s this?” I ask, running my fingers over the grooved blossoms.
He taps on the leather cover. “Read the first page.”
I open to that page, and on the top, in orange block lettering, it reads:
Allie’s I-Can-Do-Anything Notebook
He turns on his barstool, so we’re facing each other. “You’re starting something big and new. It always helps to have somewhere to gather your thoughts. Oh! And the pen is orange because red is aggressive and black is boring.”
I pull him in for a big hug. “Well, dammit, that is really sweet. Thank you so much.” I try to imagine my thoughtful friend sitting on a stool here when this building is a bar, not a coffee shop. I can’t decide if I’m sad or maybe jealous, but either way, I don’t like it.
Hector smiles wide, his perfect white teeth shining against his rich brown skin. “Now, look at this. This is the best part.” He reaches across to the journal and flips to the next page. In more orange script, he’s written:
134 Cactus Ave - 9am, Feb 13
279 Paseo De Montaña - Noon, Feb 13
2389 Desert Canyon Dr - 10am, Feb 16
He’s been sitting at the counter with me this week while I’ve been scouring online for potential new homes forTurbinewith attached office space for Devon. These are the addresses of some of the best options.Did he make appointments for me?I was going to, but I haven’t had a chance yet.
“A little push to get you started.”
I don’t need a push.I’m already working on this. I force a smile and thank him. His intentions are good, and I know the correct response would be gratefulness. On some level, Iamgrateful, but I don’t want anyone else to solve this for me. I reach for my water glass and realize I’ve already downed the whole thing. “Is it hot in here to you?” I ask.
“Yes,” Hector nods emphatically, thick hair that’s more salt than pepper these days flopping forward as he fans himself with his hands. “I thought maybe you turned off the A/C.”
“It’s ninety-five degrees outside. Who would turn off—” My voice trails off as realization dawns on Hector and me at the same time. We turn our heads in unison to see Luke walking from the back of his shop toward the front.
“This should be fun,” Hector laughs.
“For who?” I ask, already making a beeline for the thermostat.
“For me!” Hector calls to me as I disappear into my office by the back door. Sure enough, our A/C is turned off, and it’s eighty-three degrees in here. There’s a lot of charm with a vintage building, but it has its challenges, too. The A/C system isn’t up to par with what it should be in the middle of the desert,so whatever the temperature is at Lucas Pine’s stupid motorcycle shop is the temperature at Turbine.
Throwing open the back door, I find him in the employee parking lot. He’s wearing a gray t-shirt that’s practically soaked with sweat, jeans with holes in them that look earned and not store-bought, leather work gloves, and dark boots. I watch the muscles ripple across his back and shoulders as he throws a roll of old carpeting into a giant dumpster that isn’t usually here.It really is inconvenient how attractive he is.
He heads back into his shop without seeing me, and I follow behind him. “Why the fuck is my A/C off?” He doesn’t respond and keeps walking toward the pile of torn-up carpeting, back still to me. I follow after him, getting louder. “Hey, jackass! Why is my A/C off?!”
Still no response. I walk around and place myself between him and the construction trash he’s headed for. “Hey!” I wave my hand in his face.
Luke pulls wireless headphones out of his ears and puts them away in his pocket. Maybe he wasn’t ignoring me then, just listening to music.Somehow, that’s even more irritating.“Why are you here, Allie? Am I not being quiet enough for you?”
“You need to turn on my air. It’s sweaty as hell over there.” I point over his shoulder toTurbine.
Luke wipes sweat from his brow with a bandana he pulls from his back pocket, the tendrils of his hair falling back against his forehead in a perfectly imperfect way. “It is?” He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head sarcastically.
