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“Hi, this is Jared calling from Pacific Northwest Collection and Debt Consolidation?—”
“Wrong number.” She slammed the phone down and turned her back towards Ben until her pained expression changed. Exhaling, she faced him with a forced grin.
He narrowed his eyes and leaned against the counter. “Been a lot of wrong numbers lately.”
She swallowed. “So annoying, right? I must’ve gotten on some list somewhere.”
“Yeah. Some list…” He pushed himself from the counter and reached back for the sugar packets.
When he walked away, she exhaled. She loved him, of course. But she refused to burden him with the mess she’d created. She rubbed her thumbs against her lucky charm and moved back to the floor room.
No way could Ben find out the truth.
FOUR
MACK’S DRINK SPECIAL: VANILLA INSPIRATION CAKE AND AVOIDANCE AMERICANO
The barista—Charlie—floated in her shop. How do some people converse so effortlessly with others? Social suaveness was an underrated and highly coveted skill. She asked a guy about his corgi, high-fived a little kid, and recited one-liners from movies. She was so fluid and joyful in her movements like she was dancing in a ballroom instead of ringing up orders. Even her fingers had flair when writing on the cups.
Her fingers danced in anticipation… Wait! Mack could use that line.The sound of laughter bounced against the hallowed walls…She could use that, too.The dark red lips hid something, a secret she was willing to die for… All of these could work. She swiped open the note app on her cell.
Two coffees later, Mack melted into the chair. Everything about Charlie was a beautiful contradiction. The feminine makeup and hair set against the multiple piercings and tattoos. The ’90s grunge songs she sang while working in her Renaissance-style dress. The gentle voice escaping from deep red stained lips.
The more Mack observed, the more she thought about her main character, Shelby, in her newest book—a young suburbanmom by day, drug runner by night.Breaking BadxQueen of the SouthxGood Girls, who used words likefudgesicleinstead of the f-wordbut also ordered a hit on a rival. Maybe Shelby could have hidden tattoos, flowy dresses, and a butterfly purse to carry her 9mm.
Mack’s thumbs flew across her phone but weren’t fast enough. “Hey, do you have a paper and pen by chance?”
“Yeah, one sec.” Charlie dug underneath the counter.
Mack shoved her phone in her pocket but picked it back out when it felt too bulky. She crossed her arms but remembered her agent said not to do that because it made her look standoffish. She awkwardly stuck her hand in her front pocket and committed to keeping it there while she reached for the oversized dragonfly pen with her free hand.
In her zone, Mack barely registered when the male barista asked if she wanted another coffee, when her mom called for the third time, or when the shop’s volume went from active to quiet with rotating customers. The black ink turned gray and she asked Charlie for another pen.
She flexed her cramped fingers, then handed the pen back to Charlie. “Thanks for this.”
“Looks like you’re working on something important, huh?”
“Yeah. And I think I found my new spot to work.” She gathered her items. “Hey, I didn’t catch your name.”
Lies. But she wasn’t about to tell Charlie that she’d committed her name to memory the second the mother/daughter duo walked in.
“You can call me Charlie, Cherry, or Cookie, but I draw the line at Kitten.”
The tiniest tingle in a spot that had been dormant for a few months activated. Maybe not all hope was lost. “No Kitten? Guess there’s no point in saying anything at all, then.” She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Charlie.”
Tomorrow she’ll think I’ve come back for coffee.
AfterMack returned to her parents’ condo, she stacked a few pillows on her knees and rested her laptop on top of them in a pitiful attempt at a makeshift ergo station. She descended into the hypnotic, hazy world of fiction writing, as her mind overlayed words and images that she translated into her computer. Her fingers pounded against the keyboard until her stiffened legs screamed at her to move. She moved her cursor to the document title, deleted it, and gave her manuscript a new working title—Charlie.
Her phone buzzed.
??: Hey you! Cue up all the stalker vibes. I sent you a few messages. Did they come through? Just wondering if you’d like to catch a drink in the next few weeks? I’ll be back in NYC for work and would love to see you!
Mack: So sorry. I thought we were on the same page
Delete.
Mack: Hey, sorry, in Seattle. Maybe see you next time I’m back in the city
