Page 5 of Right Where You Left Me

Emma

G etting into the groove of things here at the cafe has been easier than I expected.

It wasn’t that I thought the job would be difficult to transition into; the early mornings and extensive prep work aren’t new to me, but the work environment had me worried.

Apart from the tension radiating off of Sage every time she’s here, things haven’t been that bad.

Piper has been friendly and seems to be really happy with my work so far.

I’ve been able to pitch some ideas to increase her food sales as well and she’s been open to them, so I think things are going to really work out for me here.

It’s the fresh start I wanted. What I needed.

It’s taken a long time, discovering myself, and I finally feel like I’m where I need to be to do just that.

After college, I didn’t really know what I wanted to do.

I had graduated with a business degree, but it never really felt right.

My dad had told me that it was the smartest choice, that I would be able to find a successful job after graduation, but I didn’t want to just be a corporate stooge somewhere.

I wanted to do something I was passionate about, and that’s when I realized that I could turn my love for baking and creating unique desserts into a career.

I was on the fence about where to go, but ultimately I applied to pastry school in Pittsburgh.

The rest is history. Baking has always brought me so much joy.

The kitchen has always been the one place that I felt like I belonged, that my hands could create something full of tenderness and love.

It’s what I’m best at, and I have created a successful career for myself because of that passion.

I love what I do, and I know a lot of people don’t have that luxury.

I’ve been lucky to have a job that I genuinely like.

It’s a job that I know I was always meant to have.

Knowing that I can help Piper, that she’s happy with the work I’m doing for her in her cafe…

That is all I need to know to solidify that I’m where I belong again.

I made the right choice in leaving the city and moving back to Cedar Falls.

Even though a certain someone won’t talk to me.

I shake the thought of Sage from my head.

She’ll have to talk to me at some point, and if she won’t initiate a conversation, then I will.

I’ll be my friendly self and I will win her over.

At least, I hope I can. It’s a weird feeling, having her hate me.

I know I fucked up in the past, but that’s just it.

It’s the past. It’s been over a decade, you’d think she would have let it go by now.

The cinnamon rolls I had set aside for their final proof after rolling them out and slicing them up are done and ready.

I plop them in the preheated oven when Piper walks in, dirty dishes in hand.

Her hair is in disarray and I stifle a laugh as she plops the dishes unceremoniously in the sink.

It must be busy out there. She spins quickly, reaching behind and untying her apron before she chucks it toward the laundry bin we have near the back wall.

“Everything okay out there?” I ask. “I’ll get to those dishes for you.”

“Oh.” She says, slightly out of breath. “Actually, do you think you could give Sage a hand out there? The morning rush just started and I need to run home. My husband Hank just texted me, one of the kids forgot their lunchbox and he can’t leave the office to grab it.”

“Oh. Of course.” I wipe my hands down the front of my apron and look out into the cafe.

Sage is at the register smiling at an elderly gentleman giving his order.

She’s in a crew neck sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up today, her forearm muscles rippling every time she shifts.

I can barely make out what her tattoos are from here, but her arms are covered in a rainbow of color.

I swallow loudly and force myself to look back at Piper. “You want me to make drinks or…”

“Just whatever Sage needs you to do. Thanks so much, Emma! I shouldn’t be gone more than a half hour!” Piper says with a smile before leaving quickly out the back door.

“You’re welcome.” I mutter. I wash my hands quickly and grab a timer to pin to my apron so I don’t forget about and burn the cinnamon rolls I just put in the oven. That would not be a good look for me. I’m flustered enough as it is.

I take a fortifying breath and walk out onto the cafe floor. The line of customers is long and I smile at a few of them as I sidle up next to Sage. “Piper sent me out to help. What do you need me to do?” I ask her brightly.

She rolls her eyes, her jaw clenching before she says, “The line of cups there might be an indication.”

I clear my throat. “Right. Of course.” I say and force a smile.

I make the drinks in the order she has the cups lined up and hand them off as I finish each.

I get a good rhythm going as I steam milk and pump syrup, it’s almost hypnotizing.

I’m halfway through the cups when I catch the eye of a smartly dressed gentleman standing near the hand off counter.

He looks to be in his late twenties, dark hair slicked back with gel and a perfectly fitted grey suit.

He smiles at me and I smile politely back when I hand him his coffee.

“Hi there,” He looks down at the name tag pinned to my apron, “Emma. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here before.” He says, his eyes crinkling as he shines his unnaturally white teeth at me. “You new in town?”

I shift on my feet, trying to focus on the next drink order and not the uncomfortable feeling that’s starting my build in my chest. “Oh. Um, I mean I grew up here.” I say and force a laugh. “But just moved back.”

“Is that right?” He says taking a sip of his drink. “Wow, this is really good. Way better than when Sage over there makes it for me.”

I force another laugh. “I’m sure that’s not?—”

“Why don’t you fuck right off, Pete. Don’t you have houses to sell or some shit?” Sage snaps from the register.

Her tone has me standing straighter and I turn to look at her, finding her glaring daggers at Pete. Her mouth is set in a firm line, those hazel eyes blazing with anger. I let out a shaky breath, at least it’s not just me that she’s training those rage filled eyes on today.

“That’s no way to speak to a customer.” Pete says with a frown. “I should tell Piper what kind of service goes on when she isn’t here.”

“Tell her.” Sage says blandly and waves a dismissive hand in his direction. “Not like she can fire me, I don’t technically work here.” She says turning back to the next customer in line with a smile, as if she wasn’t just ripping this guy apart with her venom.

“Oh my God.” I mutter under my breath. I can’t handle this kind of stress in the workplace. What if Piper does hear about it and thinks it’s my fault? I can’t lose this job. I can’t?—

“Well, now that the beast has been dealt with,” Pete’s voice cuts through my inner freak out.

“Here’s my card.” He says and slides it across the counter toward me.

His name in big bold letters ‘Peter Bradshaw’ with his phone number and a cheesy headshot perfectly capturing how blinding his artificially white, undoubtedly overpriced veneer filled smile is in real life.

“Call me sometime, I’d love to take you out to dinner.

” He says and winks at me, making me internally cringe.

Before I can even respond, he’s turning his back and leaving the cafe.

A cocky beat to his step as he walks out the door.

I stare down at his card on the counter like it’ll bite me if I touch it.

I don’t want it. Even if I was interested in men I wouldn’t want it.

The way he spoke about Sage made me feel…

angry and weirdly protective of her. I don’t want to hear anyone talk down to her like that.

She may be rough around the edges, but the Sage I knew was kind and wonderful.

I look over and she’s staring at Pete’s card too with a scowl on her face.

“You gonna call him?” She asks sharply.

“What? Oh. No.” I say quickly and swipe the card up off the counter and toss it in the trash can. “I don’t think he’s my type.” I say with a squeak.

Sage doesn’t say anything in response, but she does quirk a brow at me before she goes back to ignoring the fact that I’m here.

We finish the morning rush in uncomfortable silence.

I wanted to say something to her, but every time I got the courage to the look in her eyes stopped me.

She’s just so unapproachable now. Like she has a layer of ice surrounding her, and I have to pick at it bit by bit to even get a few words from her.

As soon as things slow down again, I decide to try to break the awkwardness between us. If we’re going to be seeing each other regularly we should at least be able to talk right? Even if we never get back to being good friends, we need to at least be able to tolerate the other’s presence.

“So. How have you been?” I ask and immediately regret it when she glares at me. I clear my throat. “What is it you do these days? When you aren’t here, I mean. Since like you told Pete, you don’t actually work here.”

Again. Silence.

Fucking great. Good job, Emma. You’re really killing it here. She’s so ready to be friends with you.

“Did you do anything with that art degree your dad was so thrilled you were getting?” I try one more time.

And that seems to have been the exact wrong thing to say because as soon as the words leave my lips she turns on me, her mouth curled into a snarl.

She’s always been tall, about a head taller than me, and she towers over me now as she leans down to look me in the eye.