Page 124 of That Fake Feeling

Myheart feels like it’s grown arms and is punching the air.

Victory.Sheknows her.

Halfof me relaxes with relief thatIcould be on the verge of findingRose.Butthe other half clenches with the anxiety thatImight also be a step closer to her telling me to get lost.

IgiveJanicemy most charming smile. “I’mflattered.It’sactually her nieceI’mlooking for.Shemight be staying with her.”

Janice’salready bright face lights up with recognition. “Rose?Oh, yes, she’s—”

Thenher face drops.It’ssuddenly no longer friendly and welcoming. “Ithought you looked familiar.You’rethe rich guy in the magazine, aren’t you?”

Oh, shit.Mypulse quickens with dread at what awful things they might have told her about me.

“Ijust need to findRose.Urgently.”Mypalm sweats as my fist clenches around the wrapping. “Couldyou please tell me whereJenlives?”

Janiceturns her attention to the varied sizes of paper cups with “CC” on the side that line the counter, and adjusts their already straight rows. “Idon’t know, sorry.Can’thelp you.”

Christ,Ididn’t come all this way to hit a roadblock right at the end.I’llcamp outside the front door tillRoseshows up ifIhave to.Thoughthe rain streaking the window so much that the street is now a blur makes that not a particularly appealing prospect.

“Iknow you don’t know me.But, honestly, it’s really very important thatIfind her.”

Theman steps over, holding his knife, laden with bright white spread, in the air. “Look, young man.Wecan’t go giving out people’s private information.Youshould leave now.”

Iignore him.

“Janice,I’mso sorry.Inmy urgency to find herI’vebeen incredibly rude.”Ireach for my wallet. “I’llbuy a coffee and pastries.”Icast my eyes along the counter. “Allthe coffee.Andall the pastries.Anythingyou like.”Mymouth goes dry with panicky desperation. “Butif you could just point me in vaguely the right direction, that would be a really helpful start, andI’llgo.”

Shekeeps her eyes on the cups as she unstacks and restacks them, changing absolutely nothing. “Clientconfidentiality.”

“Clientconfidentiality?Doesthat apply to baristas as well as lawyers?”Shit.Itflew out of my mouth before my brain kicked in.Ican’t afford to be sarcastic to the one person standing between me andRose.

Finally, she looks up and sucks in her lips.Butthe man answers for her.

“It’skind of like hairdressers.”Hesandwiches the two halves of a cream cheese-slathered bagel together. “Youknow, you bare your soul to them, but you don’t expect them to tell anyone.It’slike that for us.”Headds the bagel to the pyramid he’s building. “It’stheCatastropheCoffeeConfidentialityCode.”

Oh, myGod.TheCatastropheCoffeeConfidentialityCode?

Itwould be easier to get by the gatekeepers atFortKnoxthan these two.

Mychest muscles are as tight as a stretched rubber band, butIforce them to release enough for me to take a deep breath.Imight have always hated running my business, but it’s taught me how to talk to people and persuade them to do whatIneed, even when they believeI’mwrong.

“Icompletely understand.That’svery honorable.AndIhave an enormous amount of respect for that.”Iplace my non-gift-holding hand on my heart. “Ifthey were my secrets,Iwouldn’t want you to go spilling them to any random stranger who walks in off the street.”

“Good,”Janicesays, folding her arms. “BecauseI’mtelling you nothing.”

Thesound of the rain suddenly gets louder, there’s a blast of air, andJanice’seyes flick toward the front door, which has opened, accompanied by excited chatter and the ruffling of umbrellas.

Ineed to regainJanice’sattention and somehow get her to trust me. “PerhapsIcould…”

I’mdistracted by the man waving his cheese knife in the direction of the door, as if trying to shoo the customers away.

Thereare two figures, cloaked in oversized hooded black raincoats, bent almost double as they battle to turn their inside-out umbrellas the right way out.

Irefocus on the issue at hand. “Thething is,Janice…”

Hereyes are shrouded by a furrowed brow, and she won’t take her gaze off the wet people.Isshe worried they’re dripping too much or something?ThisisWashington, for fuck’s sake.Thisstate rains for a living.

Ifollow her line of sight to see what her problem is.