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Probably whichever one is needlessly complex and obnoxious. Is there an order for a large non-fat chai Frappuccino in a medium-sized cup at exactly 178 degrees with freshly squeezed oat milk, 113 granules of sugar, 1.23 pumps of caramel, 2 ounces of organic triple-whipped cream, a pinch of tarragon (if you have it, if not Saigon cinnamon), and an emptied tea bag that once had Meyer lemon tea on the list?
“Okay, well, I need to check on my other tables. I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.”
“Great. Thanks,” Nash says as she takes off.
“A music video?” I hiss once we’re alone. “Why would they be filming a music video hours before a concert? There’s already enough chaos to deal with. What’s the rush?”
“And why would a top-tier label exec need to be here for it? They have entire departments for this shit.”
Right, yeah. Good point.
“Could it be related to the engagement? Some publicity stunt?” Nash suggests.
“Without Larinda? She doesn’t know anything about this. I’m sure she would have mentioned it if she did.”
A chill runs through me as I peer into the store for some phantom clue about what’s going on. Something isn’t right. I feel it in my gut and suspect whatever it is might be related to the notebook threat I found.
“I have to get over there and find out what they’re up to,” I say.
Nash shakes his head. “Dude, I get your concern. Believe me, I feel it too, but there’s no way for you to do that. They have the place completely sealed off.” He waves toward the window where we can see some of Jarvis’ security blocking the entrance to the store. Behind them is a circus of flashing lights and movement that definitely seems excessive for belt browsing.
“There must be a rear door,” I say. “We could sneak behind the store?—”
“And what? Even if you get inside, then what?”
“I don’t know, I’ll figure it out, but I can’t sit here and do nothing!”
“Well, you can’t just march over there and say ‘Hey, how’s the evil belt scheme going?’ either. I’ve been abducted and interrogated by imitation mobsters, and trust me, it’s not fun.” He scrunches his nose in thought. “Actually, it was kind of fun, but the point is, yours probably won’t be.”
“Yeah, I’ve already had my own run-in with security,” I mumble.
He’s right—about all of it—but I also know this gnawing sensation isn’t going away.
“So what are we supposed to do?” I ask, adjusting my hair beneath my ball cap. My knee thumps the underside of the table.
“Okay, look,” Nash says after a pause. “Try Chad again. Maybe he’s got something.”
“There’s no chance of distracting him when he’s in Jarvis mode. He takes his servant role very seriously… too seriously, really.”
Nash grunts and leans back in his chair, his fingers now tapping the table as well. If there was a mainstream market for “anxiety beat” music, we’d be hitting charts.
I scan the café in search of any magical solution, but several seconds later, all I’ve got is recruiting the elderly couple two tables over to run interference while we try to sneak past the guards.
Then I spot the small display of Kitty’s Kafé merch. They’re even selling the hats and t-shirts worn by the employees. The idea forming in my head is 100% not a good one, but what fun is a spy caper without a disguise?
“Hey, I have an idea,” I say, signaling Kim.
Nash’s concerned expression is justified but I don’t have time (or interest) in letting him talk me out of this.
“Need something?” Kim asks as she approaches.
“Yes, please. The check and also…” I point at the merch display. “How much for those hats and shirts?”
I was right. Nash hated my idea. He really hated the fact that with Kim’s help, we were able to make it happen.
“This is beyond stupid and never going to work,” he hisses at me as we approach the back entrance of The Belted Stag with drink carriers in hand. We’re also wearing the Kitty’s Kafé uniforms (ish) we purchased.
But the best part? My new favorite server asked her very busy manager to let her deliver The Belted Stag order while we tagged along to carry it. We then convinced Kim that the most polite way to do so would be through a back entrance so as not to interrupt any activity—for example, music-video filming—that might be occurring inside the store.
