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Petra’s eyes widen with astonishment. “Oh no. No, no. This is not good. I’ve already pitched this story to my editor, and he loves the idea. Maybe you can make your latte somewhere else, and the town can stop by to taste it so they can vote.”
I feel like crying. “I mean, I guess I could rent out a small space.” Ugh, I don’t have the money for this.
A crowd has gathered, and all I want to do is sink into a large pothole. I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“I’ll let you know, Petra. Getting my shop up and running has to be my biggest concern right now.”
She places a hand on my shoulder. “I completely understand. I know this would have been so good for youandyour shop.”
My shoulders drop. “I know.”
Water still rains from the ceiling, and Jack has now shown up and gotten to work. They shut the water off to the building, and I’m basically waiting to see how much all of this will cost me.
“Just think about it,” Petra says, walking away to speak with another bystander, watching the madness of my shopoverflowing.
“February, everything okay?” Harrison’s voice sounds from behind me, and I really don’t want to turn around and see the look of victory in his eyes.
Only when I turn around, he doesn’t look triumphant at all. Instead, he appears concerned. Like he really cares.
But that doesn’t stop me from lashing out. “Are you here to gloat?”
He places his hand on my elbow. “Gloat? No, I stopped by to make sure you were okay.” He steps closer, dropping my arm. “Are you?”
I will myself not to break down in front of this man. “Define okay?” I give a little laugh even though there is nothing funny about this situation.
Sometimes you just have to laugh. Like a defense mechanism. I think I’m laughing because if I don’t laugh, then I’ll cry.
“Jack’s the best in town. He’ll get it all cleaned up, and I’m sure insurance will cover the whole thing.”
“God, I hope so.”
Petra spots me talking to Harrison and walks back over. “Help me talk February into doing the best latte contest.”
I shake my head. “I wish I could, but I don’t know.”
Harrison’s eyes grow serious. “You have to do the contest.”
I shrug as Jack makes his way over.
“You’ve got a real mess inside. Gonna take a week or so to get it all sorted. You’ll have to stay closed while we work.”
“Closed for a week?” I can’t take this much time off.
Jack is an older man with a gray beard. His pants are a few sizes too large, and when he smiles, he’s missing a few teeth. “Could be longer.”
My eyes widen. “Longer?” I think I’m gonna be sick. I want to cry, but with half the town looking at me, I won’t.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Jack says, and heads back into my coffee shop.
I shake my head, no words forming in my brain.
Harrison steps closer. “You can use my shop.”
I know he’s not serious. He can’t be, can he? “Use your shop for what?”
He scrubs a hand down his face. “For the contest. To perfect your drink too.”
He acts like he just solved world hunger, and I’m wondering why he wants me in the contest at all.
