Page 3 of Home Brewed (The Perfect Cup #1)
Hazel
J ustin has worked at a combination coffee house-slash-bar called Booze there are no bags under her eyes and there still seems to be a light on within her.
“Hi,” I say as politely as I can muster, “My name is Hazel, I’m Justin’s girlfriend.” I nearly vomit saying it, “I’d like to speak to the owner.”
“Hi, Hazel!” God, this girl is as loud as she looks, if not a little confused. “He’s in the office in the back, I can grab him for you! ”
“Him?” I panic. I have been praying that Justin wouldn’t be here. I’m really not ready to face him yet, “Sorry, I don’t need to see Justin, you don’t have to bother him. I’m looking for the owner, Shirley McLain?”
“Oooh.” Her face fills with understanding, “Shirley actually sold the shop a few months ago. There’s a new owner, Beck! He’s pretty great.”
“Oh, Justin never mentioned that. That’s so weird.” Then again, I guess he was good at not mentioning a lot of things. The clenching in my stomach only strengthens with each new thing I find out he hid from me.
“Sorry, Justin?”
“My boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend, I guess,” I grumble, hating having to admit this to a stranger.
“Umm, sorry, I’m newer here. I only started a few weeks ago and I don’t know everyone yet. Does he work the bar side? I’m on the coffee side exclusively for now.”
“No, he worked exclusively on the coffee side as well…” I am officially confused. Did I get his workplace wrong? That’s impossible, he has literally taken me here before.
“You know what, Beck can probably clear this up, I’ll go grab him!” and she takes off before I can get out a reply.
I am starting to get more anxious by the second. What the hell is going on here? I know he works here. He may have been a liar, but I did our taxes, I’ve seen his T4.
Perky Mchappy comes running out from the back, ponytail swishing behind her, “Beck says just a minute and he’ll be right out.
Can I get you a drink in the meantime? On the house.
” She offers me a stunning smile, and for a moment, I don’t resent her for her joy.
Plus, she’s offering me caffeine in my time of need.
Dammit. I like this chick.
“Sure, could I get a caramel mocha latte made with half whole milk and half cream, extra whip and chocolate drizzle?” I feel myself blush a bit, rattling off a more complicated drink order than most people get .
“A girl after my own heart! I love sweets as well. I’ll grab you a large if you wanna pop a squat on one of our comfy chairs over there?
” She gestures at the overstuffed armchairs facing each other by the window.
It had always appeared to be the best spot in the café to sit the whole two times I’ve been here.
“I’ll point you out to Beck when he’s ready. ”
“That sounds great, thanks.” I smile as warmly as I can muster. “What was your name?”
“Stella, pleasure to meet you.”
“Thanks Stella, I’ll be over there.” I meander over to the chair and plop myself down. All of the exhaustion that I’ve felt over the past week suddenly washes over me, weighing down my limbs. I’ve done everything to push it down, to make it through, trying to cheer myself up.
I’m wearing one of the few sundresses I felt confident enough to buy lately.
It comes all the way down to my shins, which I love because Toronto is so windy, and it’s a soft, petal pink and covered in tiny maroon flowers.
I remember feeling so pretty when I first tried it on, so excited to wear it.
When I showed it off to him, Justin simply looked at it and tossed out a ‘Wow, pink,’ before returning to his video game.
Every time I have a memory of our relationship; I want to punch myself right in the neck. Had I really been that desperate for affection? Considering my family history… probably.
Stella skips over to bring me my coffee not a minute later in one of the cute, unique mugs they use here.
They must thrift everything because they have the most eclectic variety of glassware for both the bar and café behind the counter.
I take the first few sips of my sugar-loaded salvation when I hear Stella say, “She’s just over there,” behind me.
I’m on an immediate swivel to look around as the owner approaches.
Fuck. Me.
I was expecting an older man with a friendly smile and a bit of a hipster vibe, maybe some grey hair. That is not at all what comes out of the back office .
Who the hell is this Beck, and why is he so hot?
It’s an active effort not to drool as he walks up to me. He’s easily 6’2” and has shoulder length dark hair that I have to curb the urge to thread my fingers through. His smooth brown skin looks warm to the touch, and by the time I see his eyes, I’m a goner.
No wonder Justin never brought me around here. My brain is short circuiting as my insides simultaneously melt.
Is he actually this hot? Or do I just need to get laid? I think to myself, trying to remember when the last time I had any kind of decent action. It’s depressing that I can’t come up with anything.
While I have my internal crisis, Beck folds his sizeable frame into the chair across from me and extends his hand, dazzling me with a smile.
“Hi, I’m Beck. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hi! Hazel. I mean, I’m Hazel, that’s me,” I say, placing my hand in his significantly larger one, trying to appear more put together than I feel.
I have never been a hand person, but my god, I understand it now.
All I can think about is how it would feel, spanning the width of my waist, weaving into my hair…
Jesus, I need to get a hold of myself. This is my ex’s boss. I shouldn’t even be thinking of things happening. No matter that it had been going stale for a while. It’s not like we slept together a lot to begin with. Or that Justin knew what a female orgasm was.
And that thought brings me right back to the present, to why I’m here in the first place.
“So, I understand you wanted to talk to me about Justin?” Beck takes my awkward silence as his cue to dive into things. I nod. “Well, I’m sorry to say we weren’t sad to see him go. I can promise you, though, that the termination was the best-case scenario for everyone involved.”
Wait.
WHAT? !
“I’m sorry,” I flounder, trying and failing miserably to mask my shock, “When did he stop working here? What happened?” My nails bite into my palms as I clench my hands, trying to calm myself.
“Oh…” He stammers and glances off to the side, his greenish-hazel eyes catching the light, setting my thoughts running again, “Yeah, I probably shouldn’t say, but I fired him a month ago.”
What the hell?