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“He hashair.”
“Get out.”
“I couldn’t believe my luck.” Marlene laughed. “I met him at a funeral. Can you believe it? We had the same friend in common and never even knew it until she was gone. Guess she was our guardian angel.” She passed Jamie’s door. “You have a fantastic night, sweet girl. Don’t stay out too late. Or, maybe, do!”
Jamie decided not to correct the assumption that she’d be anywhere except on her couch watching sitcom reruns. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Love is in the air,” Marlene called from down the hall. “La la da dee, la da,” she sang in a melodic voice.
That, it was. But Jamie’s own personal Valentine’s Day didn’t feel special. She watched a little TV, read a few chapters of her Michele Obama biography, scrolled social media, liking all the photos of her friends and their significant others at fancy restaurants, and climbed in bed with a small smile on her lips. Her solitary evening didn’t matter. The world was a good place, and days like today where positive energy rushed through every nook reminded her of it. And there was even that semi-awkward exchange with Bambi’s Mother that she could laugh about now. That’s what life was about. She shoved the melancholy aside and decided she’d instead wait and see what tomorrow delivered.You never knew when something wonderful was about to be dropped right into the middle of your lap. She hugged a soft pillow to her chest and mumbled the wordlucky. Because that’s exactly what Jamie was, and she would not allow herself to forget it.
Chapter Two
“And what about the coffee and, uh, wineshop place? Is it a grocery store, too? Damn,” Bryce asked from the head of the conference table. He had two empty Red Bull cans next to him and was popping a third. “Who do we have on that? Leighton, right?”
Leighton snapped her focus to the conversation in the room. Usually a very attentive person, lately she’d been daydreaming a startling amount. She was savvy enough to play it off, snatching up the file in front of her. “Bordeauxnuts on Sixteenth. Yeah.” She slid a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve swung by a couple of times. Low-key place. Charming. There are portions of the design that are salvageable, especially if we hold to keeping the coffee shop at the back of the store. The dining space is solid, just need to redesign the counterspace and build in a walkway. Very doable. The numbers are certainly not a problem. Investment is solid.”
“Encouraging,” Bryce practically barked. He overdid everything, and it was starting to wear thin. “Any red flags?”
She consulted her notes on her laptop. “The owner seems personable and friendly. I can’t imagine her being a problem.”
“Not when a big fat buyout check is waved in front of her face,” Jeffrey said with a smirk. Her colleague and complete opposite in every way proceeded to balance a pen on his knuckles, entranced. They were on the same team, unfortunately, but saw the process very differently. She frowned at him. He took too much pleasure in these swoop-ins. For Leighton, displacement was a necessary but unfortunate part of corporate expansion. Her job on the development team of Carrington’s was to assess each new property, its risks and rewards, and make herrecommendation to the higher-ups. Little Bordeauxnuts was in the way of the incoming Chelsea store and would have to go. Facts were facts. The little coffee/wine bar would hopefully land on its feet and seek out a new storefront once Carrington’s bought out the lease. Hopefully, the owner would be grateful for the handsome payout and call the whole thing a financial win.
That would all be handled by their real estate attorneys, however. She’d file her report, make her recommendations, a few projections, and move on to the next project.
She leveled Jeffrey a stare. “Not everyone is an ant beneath your shoe.”
He laughed. “Leighton, you robot. Try to enjoy what we’re doing here,” Jeffrey said, hands in a grabbing gesture, which was a metaphor for how he went through his whole life. Taking what he wanted. He also chewed with his mouth open at parties. “We’re the big guys swinging our dicks around. Enjoy it.”
The room of eight people cringed in unison. Jeffrey was a shark, and that’s why he was here, but it was certainly hard to like the guy.
She leaned in. “That’s a visual I will spend years trying to erase from my brain.”
“Can we move on?” Bryce asked.
“Please,” Leighton said. “I need more time with the coffee/wine bar, but the pizza place on the corner is definitely an easy wrap-up. Bored teenagers running the counter, no one who cares in sight. Business is close to nonexistent.”
“Perfect. Mary Ann, how are we on our upped timeline?” Bryce asked, moving their meeting forward with his no-nonsense approach. As her colleague shuffled through her file folder, Leighton’s thoughts casually drifted back to Bordeauxnuts and their amazing lattes. In fact, she had a surprising urge to swing by after the meeting, maybe finish the rest of her afternoon from a spot facing the counter. Was that awful, given that she worked for the company she knew was about to swoop in and evict? She swallowed the kernel of guilt. Everyone would be taken care of, and a brand new department store would service the good people of Chelsea. Plus, her job was to scout, and visiting the space was part of that task. She wasn’texactlya double agent. Plus, she needed coffee, and they had some. Easy.
When she arrived at the coffee bar, the late morning showed considerable traffic. The woman behind the register, whom she ascertained to be Jamie Tolliver, the owner, was just as cheerful as always. Adorable, too. Today, her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail through her cap, which she hadn’t worn before. A very cute look. Her blue eyes sparkled brightly. God, Leighton was a sucker for blue eyes. Even more so today, apparently.
“I’m back again.”
“You are.” Jamie swallowed. “I guess we’re doing something right.” A pause. It got longer. “Oh, sorry. What can I do for you? I forgot to ask.” She touched the top of her cap. “What can I have made for you? It’s been a morning.”
Leighton laughed. “Universally. I’ll take a pistachio latte if you think that’s a good choice.”
“I applaud it. Not enough people appreciate pistachio. The underappreciated flavor on our board. What can I get you to eat? Some of our warm doughnuts?”
Leighton inhaled the heavenly scent. She also spied the source, a machine dropping tiny fresh doughnuts into a tray behind Jamie. Her appetite and soul coveted and reached. “Well, now that I’ve laid eyes on them, how can I resist?”
“All part of our master plan,” Jamie said, stone serious.
Leighton tapped her card and caught several framed news articles on the wall, all about the bar and its unique approach to coffee and wine. “Wow. You were featured in theTimes?”
“Several different features over the years.” Jamie pointed across the room to the other wall where Leighton spotted more framed media. “AndTime Out New Yorkand a whole host of others. We’re incredibly famous.” She was joking but wasn’t entirely wrong given this coverage.
“You must be really proud.”
