Page 10 of How to Break My Heart 1
Eva
With a deep breath, I remove my green apron and hang it up in the back. The café isn’t big by any means, but we have a small office right behind the kitchen. There’s a desk with my laptop for when I have to do paperwork and other tasks.
Above the desk is a corkboard with photos pinned to it. My eyes wander to the one of me and Maddy drenched in tomato juice from partaking in La Tomatina in Spain. We laughed so hard that day, I swear we both peed our pants.
Beside that photo is one of Maddy frowning with a bruised wrist from the Gloucester cheese-rolling festival. I smile at the memories. Who would have thought that two girls seated next to each other in freshman biology, both trying not to throw up while dissecting a dead frog, would end up here?
My best friend is getting married.
I press my palm to my chest to suppress the overwhelming feeling of life moving fast. One minute, we’re just kids doing stupid kid things, and the next, we’re planning weddings.
After grabbing my purse, I wave goodbye to Billie. She’s busy talking to the couple who have finally managed to pull their tongues away from each other. Maybe this is the beginning of their love story, and my café plays a part in their forever… or a kinky night involving the donuts Billie made this morning.
As I walk out the door, I smirk, leaving that awkward encounter for Billie to handle, and head toward the clinic just a block away. The crisp winter air is exactly what I need to clear my head.
The door to Fairy Lane Treats opens as the owner, Mrs. Dorothy, steps out. I brace myself for the inevitable, certain that she has two main goals in life—to sell candy and to set me up with whatever single man she can get her hands on.
Her pink-stained lips raise into an overbearing smile. “My dear, aren’t you looking beautiful on this special holiday.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Dorothy, as are you.”
“Stop.” She flicks her hand with a giggle. “It’s my and Mr. Dorothy’s fortieth anniversary today.”
“Oh wow! Forty years married.” I let out a whistle. “That’s true love.”
“No, my dear.” She glances around to make sure no one is listening, then leans in close. “Forty years since we first fornicated.”
I freeze. “Fornicated?”
“We weren’t married yet,” she whispers. “But I don’t want you to follow in my footsteps.”
“Oh, right. Yes, I wouldn’t want to be a bad girl,” I lie, then force a smile to stop the wordfornicatedfrom repeating in my brain.
“Now, there’s a young fellow I’d like you to meet…”
Mrs. Dorothy rambles on as I nod, pretending to listen but zoning out while glancing around the street to see what is happening.
I chose Cinnamon Springs because of my fond memories, yet everyone moved on.
My parents moved to Utah years ago, finally living their farm life with a gazillion animals. Every time Mom calls, they’ve added some new member to their ever-growing flock. I heard her throw around the wordgrandkidsbut hung up before the conversation segued to my love life, or lack thereof.
My brother, Elliot, lives in Cannes. We still keep in touch,but I miss him terribly. It’s not the same with everyone so far away. He’s busy building his life as a pastry chef at some high-end restaurant with women throwing themselves at him. That’s according to Mom, anyway.
Maybe a trip to see him might cure whatever funk I’m in right now, but the last time I attempted to do that, my flight was canceled, and a hurricane stopped me from leaving the States. I took it as a sign and stayed home.
I return my focus to Mrs. Dorothy as she smiles with eyes wide in anticipation.
“So, how about dinner tonight?” she asks, watching me intently. “I’m sure Basil can make it if I ask him.”
Surely, a red flag is being set up on a blind date with a guy named after an herb.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Dorothy, I have plans tonight. Maybe another time?”
She nods politely. “You let me know, dear. I’ll have you know my sister, Winnie, is a spinster.”
And this is my cue to leave.
I distract Mrs. Dorothy by complimenting her on the new storefront. The big rainbow lollipop spinning in the window is sure to draw a crowd, I tell her as I make my exit.
Table of Contents
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