Page 6

W ith shot nerves and hardly any sleep, thanks to an eventful night, my body is yelling at me to calm down.

I’m fine here. Whatever that raccoon was looking for, I sure hope it was worth it.

And me accidentally flashing my neighbor while attempting to stab a fake intruder will forever haunt my dreams.

By afternoon, I had done the laundry, swept the floors and unloaded the dishwasher. If Lana is going to let me stay here for the time being, I’m going to earn my keep. She also never came home last night. I’m guessing my best friend had the time of her life with her new man.

The oven timer beeps, and I take out a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies.

Baking calms my nerves, but I know I’m only stalling.

My plan today is to do a job search. Even if staying here is temporary, I need an income.

Besides, I am itching to wash my hands clean of dirty money.

I just wish my history of work is one you add to your resume.

The smell of chocolate sugar invades the room, and I breathe in slowly, inhaling the sweetness.

Everything is setting in. The party. The escape. The flat tire. I was bold. Some might argue, foolish. Sure, leaving was risky, but I can’t ignore the sense of relief that floats alongside. Though the relief merely flirts with the crippling anxiety.

As I go to leave, the door swings open and Lana walks in with her new man. He’s tall. Not as tall as Logan. But because Lana is small, his height shrinks her.

Here’s a weird thing. Why am I thinking about how tall Logan is?

His sandy blond hair falls in one enormous wave, flirting with his forehead. He’s wearing a polo shirt and khakis like he belongs to a fancy country club. Knowing from experience. He also looks like he’s stuck in the 90s.

Strange. He doesn’t seem like Lana’s type at all. I can’t picture it, but she’s smiling, so that’s all that matters.

“Hey. How was the trip?” I ask as I stand with my hip leaning against the kitchen counter.

90s man takes his time glancing me over.

The yoga pants and sports bra I’m wearing leave nothing to the imagination.

If there’s one thing I’m not shy about, it’s how I dress.

My neighbor seeing too much of me, now that is something to be shy about.

The idea puts me in a vulnerable state, and I’m left wanting to look my absolute best. It’s odd to care about what a man thought. Yet here I am. Caring.

Ugh. I could get a glass jar and fill it from all the humiliating moments with Logan. So many, so quickly? Shaking my head.

A subtle sneer appears on her man’s face before it changes into a smile. There was no imagining that. Having creeps gawk at me wasn't uncommon considering, but his gaze is far from innocent. And that pisses me off, because he’s dating my best friend. She doesn’t deserve a slimy shit weasel.

“It was pretty great. Mark took me to a winery.” Her words don’t match her deadpan expression. Lana drops her hand from his, then puts her small bag on the chair. “Mark, this is Sora, my best friend I told you about.”

He takes a step forward, his hand clammy as he takes mine. “Nice to meet you, Sora.” His smile is off-putting. Unsettling. But who am I to judge? He may be a nice guy and I’m just paranoid.

I force a smile in return. “You’re a very lucky man. Lana is incredible.” That backhanded threat is probably unnecessary.

“Don’t I know it.” He leans down, planting a kiss on her cheek.

Lana barks out a laugh. “Do I smell cookies? If you made chocolate chip, I’ll orgasm right here.”

I snort, finding Mark staring at me again. “They’re all for you,” I tell her, casting Mark a fuck off and I’ll kill you if you hurt my friend type of look.

“You’re the best. I missed your desserts. I can’t bake to save my life.” Lana finishes by licking the left-over chocolate off her fingers. “Mmm. So good.”

Mark eyes Lana with a heated gaze as she makes eating a chocolate chip cookie identify as a porno. He comes off like a horny teenager, if I’m being honest. But I am her best friend, and I need to give him the benefit of the doubt.

For now.

“How was your first night here? Everything go okay?” She chugs a bottle of water as Mark invades her space and the subtle sidestep doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Let’s see… Logan paid for my groceries while customers at the supermarket were aiming pitch forks at me. And Fred made a not so friendly visit.”

“Logan paid for your groceries. What about the money I gave you? And I miss Fred. He hasn’t been around for the last couple of days. Probably because I’ve been laying off the sweets. My students say I’m too hyper.”

“I’ll save the Logan story for another time. But yes, poor Fred was close to seeing the light per my butter knife.”

“No! He’s so fluffy and cute.”

“Who’s Logan?” Mark’s posture stiffens. “And who’s Fred?”

Lana throws him an empathic bone. “Fred is our raccoon, and Logan lives next door.” She’s about to continue, but he interrupts.

“You never told me your neighbor is a dude.” His body language, once playful, turns tense. Both me and Lana stare at him.

Her boyfriend of two minutes appeared as a pick me guy and I’m not a fan.

“He’s just our neighbor. Lives in the other half of the duplex,” I cut in, crossing my arms over my chest.

Mark forces himself to relax while rubbing Lana’s shoulder. “Oh, okay, babe.”

Babe? That better not be for me.

After the conversation dies, I leave them, ditching my sportswear for something more professional with heels to match. I bought a mix of options just in case.

Lana’s vintage coatrack holds my small purse, and I grab it on the way out. “I’ll see you later, Lana. I’m going job hunting today.”

Mark sits watching TV, his hands interlocked behind his head, Lana snagging a glass of milk. Couldn’t be more uninterested if she tried.

Her face drops. “I was hoping you’d grab lunch with us, but I get it. Knock em dead.”

“Sorry. Another time.” I pull Lana into a hug, catching Mark staring at my ass on the way out. “It was so nice to meet you, Mark.” Bitterness runs off my tongue as I fight like hell not to roll my eyes.

It’s official, I’m swearing off men. There are too many continuous unappealing aspects about them. But I’d make damn sure to have a talk with Lana if Mark doesn’t get his shit together. If he’s that way with me, I can only imagine what he is doing behind her back.

Having exhausted all possibilities, my feet are killing me.

I never walked this much in heels. Sure, I’ve attended formal dinner parties, forced to have lunch with women I had nothing in common with, but walking around town developing blisters isn’t what I’m used to.

Hell, I’ve never even driven anywhere myself.

It was part of the rich lifestyle, but I knew it was only to keep me isolated between club shifts.

The fresh memory sends a disturbing chill down my spine. Am I really doing this? Running away and starting over. I must be delusional if I believe it to be that simple. Jason will look for me if he hasn’t already. First sign of trouble, I’m out. Lana doesn’t deserve to be in the middle of it all.

Application after application. One of them has to want me. With no qualifications, it seems impossible.

The last place I decide to check is Sunlight Creeks’s very own café. A thrill floats inside me, wishing I’d started here.

When I saunter inside, the little bell above the door rings and an older lady pops up from behind the counter sporting a wide, genuine smile.

“Hello there! Welcome to Shelby’s Café. What can I get you, dear?

” Her short graying hair is in large tight curls and she’s unfortunately sporting a wrist brace.

“Actually, I was wondering if you’re hiring. I’m new in town and can really use a job.”

It’s been so long since I’ve worked a real job. The memory of being forced to perform churns my stomach, but I put that aside for now and plaster on a fake smile. Faking positivity can trick your mind into believing it's real and I’ve gotten good at doing that.

“Well, let’s see.” She turns around facing the back of the coffee shop. “Frank, honey, take over for me. I’m going to talk to this nice young lady.”

An older gentleman appears from the back with a polite grin while she gestures for me to follow. It’s a cute place, a little outdated, but cute. It has character. Old soul vibes with Victorian décor. Suppose it’s fitting for those who owned it.

The old woman winces as she sits down at the small round table. “These old bones aren’t what they used to be.” She chuckles through the obvious discomfort. “My name is Shelby. As you might have guessed.” Her wrinkles are prominent as she flashes me with a polite smile.

I reciprocate. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Sora.”

“What a lovely name.”

“Thank you.” My mother loved the name so much and she knew I’d be Sora. It means sky.

She’d found the Asian culture to be beautiful. Lana’s mother would spend hours talking to her about how she’d grown up.

“Now tell me. Do you have any experience? Ever worked in a coffee shop before?”

“No.” I bite my bottom lip. “But I do love coffee.” Maybe my love for it will help my case or I’ll just crash and burn.

She tilts her head with a friendly nod. “How about any type of retail service like food or dining?”

“Well. Not exactly.”

“Mmm. Why do you want to work here, Sora? Besides needing a job.”

I’m losing this. This sweet old lady is never going to hire me.

“I…” I let out a breath. “I really need this job. And if you give me a chance, I really think I’ll be good at it.” Coffee. Pastries. Soft music. It has all the right vibes. This place is perfect for me. “Please.”