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“And I’m standing there in shock while this girl starts coughing all over the place, and brownie chunks are flying everywhere?—”
“And I drop the phone, and the screen shatters, and now her boyfriend gets behind her and is smacking her on the back, and I’m screaming at him that he’ll make it worse?—”
“And Charlie stomps in like a badass and gives her the Heimlich, and nothing’s happening. Charlie’s literally lifting this girl off her feet untilbam?—”
“Brownie chunksandthe ring fly out of her mouth and hit Ben right in the face?—”
Mack laughed as her eyes ping-ponged between the two of them.
“I was so pissed,” Ben continued. “I started yelling?—”
“Screeching,Ben, not yelling. Like a cat stuck in a dryer. And while he’s slapping the heck out of his face to get the brownie chunks off, he accidentally kicks the ring. The guy ditches his girlfriend to tackle the ring, and Superman-slides across the floor on his belly.”
Ben let out a deep, throaty chuckle. “Such a disaster.”
The burn in Mack’s core from laughing so hard spread to her chest, and she relished the rare moment as Charlie and Ben caught their animated breaths.
“And that… is the story of Browniegate.” Charlie grabbed the wadded-up paper towel from the counter and rehung the spray bottle. “Ben’s getting his Master’s in nursing, but he can’t handle bodily fluids.”
A devilish grin flashed across Ben’s face. “Some bodily fluids I don’t mind.”
“Benjamin!” Charlie smacked him on the shoulder. “Dirty boy. Not in front of the customers.”
The two of them resumed their restocking and lightness seeped into Mack. God, it felt good to laugh. Since her book launch, deadlines and expectations clouded every day. Charlie and Ben were the type of people she needed in her life—ones that helped her forget she was buried in a coffin of indecisions and self-doubt.
Her fingers hovered over her keyboard while Charlie stuffed cardboard cup holders into a container. “It’d be so fun to work at a job with your best friend and laugh all day. Even when I worked in an office, I never had this type of camaraderie.”
Charlie’s arm strained to reach the lids tucked in the corner. “What is it that you do?”
Mack swallowed. She wanted to be the one asking questions, researching this woman’s fluid movements and effortless sexiness. Not answer personal questions. She shoved her hand under her seat to stop herself from scratching her suddenly itchy skin. “I’m, ah, a writer.”
“Oh yeah?” Charlie’s face lit up. “Anything I would’ve heard of?”
No matter how many books she sold, conferences attended, or podcast interviews given, the imposter syndrome demon hovered like a shadowy figure. “Um… maybe?” She put the back of her palm up to her mouth to conceal a cough. “I only have one book. A thriller.”
“Really? Thriller is my favorite genre.”
Those eyes.
“Mine, too.”Duh.
Charlie dug a box from the cabinet. “What’s the title?”
Mack had her fair share of bad reviews. Some gut harder than others. Some she brushed off because people are jerks. But it’d make this entire interaction awkward as hell if Charlie read the book and hated it. “The Edge of the Shadow.” Fire spread up her neck.
Charlie stopped stuffing straws into the holder. “No.”
What didthatmean?“Yeah.”
“No effing way.” Charlie marched to the bookshelf and plucked out a book. “You’re ‘M. Ryder’?”
Mack nodded hesitantly, forgetting the word one used to confirm a suspicion was correct.
Charlie flipped to the back jacket cover and held it up, looking between Mack and the author’s photo. “I can’t believe this. Ilovedthis book. Ben! Come here!”
Mack was still irritated that Viviane convinced her to wear a blazer for that headshot. But soon, a tingle spread in her chest. She’d heard people say they loved the book before. During interviews, the host always started by saying how much they loved the book. People at writers’ conferences and book signings told her how much they loved the book. Her family screamed from their rooftop,literally, how much they loved the book. But something about Charlie saying this with her silky tone sounding all genuine and warm was almost too much. Mack wanted to hear it one more time while hiding under the chair.
“What?” Ben entered from the back room and shoved the box in his hands to the corner.
