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“Sophie,” she said. “Could you take Mr Jordan a chocolate brownie outside? I should see to the other customers.”

Sophie smiled. “Sure thing, I’ll get you a water too,” she said. “Don’t you worry about anything, Mr Jordan. You just go and sit outside.”

A moment later, Sophie was behind the counter fetching Mr Jordan a brownie and water. Mr Jordan had taken a seat on abench outside, while inside the cafe, the tables were all settling back down as their chattering recommenced. Judging by the way glances were continually darting out the window, Gemma was sure that at least one conversation was about Mr Jordan’s fall. She would have much rather he’d stayed inside so that she could keep an eye on him, but she could hardly force a grown man to stay somewhere he didn’t want to be. Still, she would check on him in a couple of minutes. Finally, drawing her attention away from Mr Jordan, Gemma went and picked up a menu from the counter.

Locals and regulars knew it wasn’t table service, but despite the sign, many onetime customers weren’t aware, so they would always take the menu to them. They would tell them to come to the counter to order if it was busy. Otherwise, she wouldn’t mind spending a bit of time going back to take it herself. It was that type of relationship that made people come back. As Gemma headed towards the man, she was absolutely certain he had never set foot in the Waterfront Café before, because if he had, she would have remembered. His hair was dark, lightly styled in a way that looked relaxed and yet well-groomed. And his dark, deep-set eyes had a definite broodiness about them.

“Good morning,” she said, placing the menu down on his table. “Sorry about that bit of commotion there. Unfortunately, we’re all getting older, and it creeps up on us, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

The man pouted. There was no hint of a smile on his face. In fact, surly was the word that jumped into Gemma’s mind, but she tried not to let the thought settle. Each person had their own thing going on and likely had plenty of reasons not to smile. She would always give a customer the benefit of the doubt and assume they were lovely until they proved her otherwise.

Gemma was about to say he could go to the counter to order when the man parted his lips.

“Do you already know what you’d like to drink?” she asked, assuming that was what he was going to say.

Instead, his mouth closed again, and he inhaled deeply before he spoke.

“I wasn’t going to order a drink just yet,” he said. “I actually think we need to have a proper conversation about how you handled that entire situation.”

CHAPTER 5

Gemma tilted her head to the side. She was certain she had misheard the gentleman, or at least misunderstood what he had said. Was he referring to the situation with Mr Jordan? She couldn’t see what other situation he meant, yet why he would wish to talk about it made absolutely no sense. After all, it wasn’t like he’d made any attempt to help Mr Jordan.

“I’m sorry,” she said, still fighting to keep a smile fixed on her face. “I’m not exactly sure I understand what you mean.”

“Perhaps it would be better to talk about it in the kitchen?”

She fought down a scoff. “The kitchen? No. The kitchen is for staff only.”

“I understand that but?—”

“It sounds a little like you have a problem with how I run my cafe?”

The man sniffed. “At this precise moment, yes, I do.”

His words were muttered, spoken under his breath, yet more than loud enough for Gemma to hear. Her blood began to boil.

Any benefit of the doubt had been erased. This customer was not a nice person. They had not said something without thinking, then hurriedly wished to backtrack or profusely apologise. They were entitled and rude and not the type ofperson she wanted to waste her time on any longer. Her jaws ground tightly together as she reached down and snatched the menu back off the table.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid we’re not serving right now,” she said.

The man raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me. What are you talking about?”

“Let me make myself a little clearer. We’re not serving you right now,” she said. “Or ever, actually. You’re not welcome. You need to leave.”

The man’s lips parted. Though rather than looking angry or even continuing his confused expression, a smile curled up on the corner of his lips.

“Oh, I think you may have misunderstood me here,” he said.

“No, I don’t think so,” Gemma replied. “I understood you perfectly well. You were incredibly clear. You had to wait an extra three minutes for me to come over here and give you a menu because I wanted to prioritise an old man’s health. An old man who I happen to be very fond of. Who comes into this café every day and is nothing but polite and kind? Two things that you are clearly not. This is why I am telling you that you will not be served in this café. Not now. Not ever.”

Even though Gemma’s eyes remained locked on the man’s, she could feel the rest of the customers staring at her. If she turned around, she suspected she would see Sophie behind the counter, gawping wide-eyed. It wouldn’t be a surprise. Gemma had never spoken to a customer in that manner before, or any other person, for that matter. But she was furious.

Someone thinking a cappuccino was more important than coming to the aid of an elderly man made her feel near nauseous, and it was taking all her strength to control the tremble in her hand.

“You need to leave now,” she said. “I will not ask you again.”