“Hey.”

  I snap my head up from the mug I had been holding in my hand, contemplating while my mind wandered. I adjust my eyes when I realize it’s one of Drew’s friends. Hunt, I believe. A quick glance at the room shows that all three remaining men are still heavy in conversation. I turn my attention back to the man before me, standing straight and keeping my voice calm. They all make me nervous, but more because they’re huge, and larger men have always given me a little pause. For good reason, too.

  “Hello, again. I’m sorry, but I’ve forgotten your name. It’s Hunt, right?”

  “Hunting, but my first name is Ben.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware,” I start, confused. “Which would you prefer to be addressed by?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he responds, seemingly annoyed in tone even though his body language is completely relaxed and calm.

  “Of course it does. It’s your name, isn’t it? Surely, you know which you prefer to be called. I have three first names as my full name, so I’m very used to the confusion of people not knowing how to address me.”

  “It’s something,” he mutters under his breath. “Call me Ben.”

  “That wasn’t that hard, right?” I give him a smile, and his lips twitch. “Well, what can I do for you, Ben?”

  He grunts out a laugh. “You always been this scripted?”

  My back jerks straight. “Excuse me?”

  He holds his hands up. “I didn’t mean to offend you, just trying to figure out if you’re like this with all your customers or if I just got the special treatment today?”

  “I’m polite.”

  “You are. You’re also someone who I would say would be more prone to the galas and fundraising luncheons, but here you are, rocking a kick-ass coffee shop.”

  “For your information, I could do both.” I cross my arms over my chest, trying to relax the whole high-society aura he can clearly see.

  “You could, but you don’t.”

  “How do you know that I don’t? For all you know, I might have a function tonight.”

  Oddly, his questioning and mockery of my upbringing doesn’t bother me. I don’t really have many friends, so this kind of teasing banter is a welcome change to the chatter of Ella and a five-year-old.

  “Isn’t much I don’t know, Olivia Elizabeth Kelley.”

  “That isn’t exactly master detective work, Ben. My name’s listed on things all over the shop,” I joke.

  He just cocks a brow.

  “For your information, I haven’t been part of the galas and luncheon world of Boston for years. It’s a product of my upbringing, I’m afraid. Ingrained in a way that you’re just stuck with polite conversation,” I continue, not annoyed anymore.

  “You ever rude?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “Well, this will be fun,” he adds, not making any sense.

  “Okay … well, Ben, is there something I can do for you?”

  His large shoulders move as he laughs silently. “Just wanted to see if you had the room clear for a few more hours. Things aren’t progressing as quickly as we thought they would. We can get out of here if you need us to, just figured I would ask since all our shit is spread out already.”

  I glance back at the room, seeing that papers are, in fact, strewn everywhere, and computers are open in front of each man.

  “You’re free to use the room for as long as you’d like. I only had the one booked, so it will be empty anyway. There’s no sense in packing up and moving if you’re in the middle of your work.”

  “Thanks, Olivia.”

  “No problem, Ben.”

  He walks away but turns around when the door bursts open, and I hear my name yelled.

  “Livi! Liviiii! Oh, my Liv!”

  Riley rushes into the room, stopping to toss her light-pink backpack on to the closest piece of furniture she can find. I look up to see Grace walk in behind her and smile. I love Grace. She’s Mr. W’s full-time caregiver, but when he’s here all day long anyway, she is the one person I know I can trust when there’s a conflict with Riley and work. Luckily, she’s also a good friend, so she loves her Riley time, and it’s not just a favor.

  When the little tornado is done taking off her backpack, jacket, and shiny black shoes, she moves around the room greeting a few of the regulars like the world-class charmer that she is. She saves her favorite for last, climbing into Mr. W’s lap and resting her elbows on his shoulders. She presses her nose to his and looks him wide-eyed into the face. I wait, knowing she’ll be giving me my favorite sound, and I’m not disappointed when exactly ten seconds later, she giggles and backs away slightly. Her hands come up and frame his weathered face, still laughing.

  “How come you always win?!” she exclaims on a giggle.

  “Because in my day, if you moved, the big bad guys would find you.”

  “Were they monsters?”

  “They were like monsters to a lot of people.”

  “That’s not good. Monsters are bad. Did you put them in time-out?” she asks, completely oblivious with her childhood innocence.

  Mr. Westchester, the gentlest man I’ve ever met, is a hero. He’s spent a lot of time talking to me about his service in the Army, so I know the monsters he’s referring to are from his time enlisted. He’s opened up to me a lot over the years, and I always soak in his military stories. He always gets a twinkle in his eye when he tells me how he lied about his age so he could enlist and get to Korea. His first taste of war was in Panmunjom back in 1953. As he says it, he was a young man full of piss and vinegar ready to take on the world and make a difference. He doesn’t talk much about his time in Vietnam, but I do know he was in la Drang in the mid-sixties. He didn’t retire from the Army until he had given over thirty years of service, retiring as a Master Sergeant. He made me stop thanking him for his service after six months, but I still silently do it. Heroes like him make it so I can rest easy at night. There will never be a day that I’m not thankful for the sacrifices he’s made for our country. I tell him often that he’s lived so many lifetimes in his eighty-three years, and he just smiles and tells me another story.

  “I put them in time-out forever,” he whispers with the tone of the rascal I’m sure he’s always been.

  “Forever?” Riley gasps.

  “Forever!” he booms, laughing so hard that Riley joins the instant his belly starts shaking, and just like that, they’ve moved on to something else. I leave them to it, knowing she’s in good hands while Grace moves in close.

  “Hey, you.” She wears a smile, her blond curls dancing around her face.

  “Hey,” I greet, walking around the counter to hug her. “Thank you for picking her up for me.”

  “It’s no problem. I knew Bobby wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon, so it isn’t like I have anything to do until it’s time to get his Jameson-drinking cranky bones home.”

  I laugh softly, squeezing her shoulders affectionately.

  “He thinks you don’t know about his secret stash,” I whisper.

  “He thinks a lot of crazy things, but I still love the old menace.”

  “Let me go tell Riley that it’ll be a later night than she thought, then let’s have a cup of coffee so you can fill me in on that hot date you had Saturday night.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Bobby tell you about that?”

  “You darn tootin’ little girl! You think it’s safe to be walking around town in those toothpick shoes? Just waiting for a young hoodlum to get the wrong idea, I tell you!” Mr. W bellows from his seat, Riley thinking he is the funniest man on earth with tears rolling down her face from her laughter.

  “They were very subtle heels, Bobby.” She sighs.

  “In my day—”

  “In your day, women couldn’t even show their cleavage. We get it, you cranky old man. Finish your drink and your time with Riley, or you don’t get to play poker while we watch Jeopardy tonight, mister.”

  He mumbles under his breath, Riley kicking up her laughter even harder. I look up and around the room, seeing that most of the customers are just watching the madness with smiles. Anyone who spends any time here knows about Riley and Mr. W. Before my eyes can get back to Grace, I glance toward the room that houses the four giant men. All four of their eyes are on us. The mix of amusement and … worry, a confusing hue of emotions on their faces. Surely, they aren’t worried that she will bother them. Riley may be young, but she knows better than to go near those rooms.

  The thought is immediately gone when my gaze clashes with the one who has always drawn me in. It’s the heat in those stormy eyes that gives me pause. It feels like I’ve been physically burned.

  What on earth is going on today?

  “Days Like This” by Van Morrison

  “She’s out cold, Ms. Kelley.”

  I look up from my computer screen, pushing the glasses that I wear to block out the blue lights to rest on the top of my head. Lewis, the sweet seventeen-year-old we hired last year, stands in my doorway. His glasses held to his face with an eyeglass chain pulled tight behind his neck. His pimple-covered cheeks blush profusely.

  “When are you ever going to call me Olivia, Lew,” I joke, standing and walking around the desk after I shut off my computer, thankful it was a slow night so Riley could play while I took care of payroll. Not that it would have mattered. Everyone who comes here loves her.

  “My mom always said that I should address my elders with their proper title until I’m of age to be speaking to them as a peer.”

  “You’re just the sweetest thing, Lewis,” I gush, tapping his nose with my finger as I walk by.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he says, his eyes looking away in embarrassment.

  I giggle softly. “So polite. You’re going to make someone very happy one day, you know.”

  His cheeks get even redder as I walk away from him and into the main room. I almost choke on my tongue when I see Riley. She looks like a starfish, clinging to one of the larger couches in the middle of the room, taking up every inch possible with her tiny body. One of her arms and one leg hangs off the side, dangling above the floor. The other leg lays straight down the couch body, and the other arm above her head. Her hair, tangled all around her head, covers her face completely. My Lord, she’s perfection. And just like her mom. Right up until we lost her, Emma would sleep hard and just as messy.

  Moving over to the register, I rest my hip against the wood on the other side of Ella and watch as she finishes changing out the receipt tape. She looks up and arches a brow but continues her task.

  “When did the giants leave?” I ask.

  “About a half hour after you went into the office. They were here one moment, gone the next. For men that big, they shouldn’t be able to move without a single person even noticing.”

  I open my mouth to respond when I feel a tug on my cardigan. I look down to find a sleepy, wild-haired Riley.

  “Livi, do you think we can get the white pasta from that place with the crispy bread?” she asks softly with a slight whine in her tone. She’s more tired today than usual, which I pray doesn’t mean she’s getting sick. She takes naps often after school, but she only gets like this when she’s not feeling well.

  “Aren’t you in luck, my sleepy bean. You must be a mind reader because I just had the thought that tonight felt like a great night for GrubHub delivery and a movie on the couch.” I look down just in time to see her eyes light up a little more, some tiredness leaving her features. Bending down, I wrap my arms around her small body to give her a hug and kiss. She smiles back, and I happily note the exhaustion on her face hasn’t returned.

  Even though she tried her hardest, the weather zapped the energy right out of her. Since we weren’t able to have a picnic and feed the ducks in the park, I hope this dinner will do the trick of easing the disappointment of missing our outing. It’s one of our favorite afternoon activities when Olde Mug has bread leftover that couldn’t be donated to the local soup kitchen, but the rain ruined that plan today. It may have stopped, but there is no way the ground isn’t holding enough water to keep it soggy for the next couple of days. Which I hate because not only do we lose out on our time together in the park, but the bread will have to be tossed now. I almost told her we could go tomorrow regardless, but then I checked the weather forecast, and sure enough, the cold weather I’ve felt moving in will be here in two days. I used to love when Boston turned cold, but that isn’t the case these days. The winter weather and chilling temperatures will make walking to Riley’s school and then to Olde Mug more challenging.

  “Let me go grab my bag, bean. Keep Ella company, okay? You know she likes to put the paper in wrong,” I tell her with a wink.

  I grab my purse off the hook behind the door and drape the strap over my head and across my body. Turning around, I lock the door to the office at the same time as I see Riley run over to where she dropped all her stuff earlier. She slides her backpack over her shoulders and then wobbles herself into her shoes. She’s beyond ready to go home. She never complains when we need to stay a little later than normal, but you can see it in her movements at go time that she was silently wishing we were elsewhere. I ended up staying a little longer than even I had planned, but payroll needed to get done tomorrow, and I would rather have a little extra time in the morning with Riley than sitting here on my computer poring over numbers.

  At times, Riley would have been in my office with me the whole time. She has her own little setup in the corner of what she calls “our” office. Having an office doesn’t impress her as much as working the room, though. My girl prefers to be people pleasing, bopping around the shop while chatting with the regulars and meeting new customers. I guess you could say she’s our little mascot.

  She smiles up at me when I hold out my hand for her, taking it immediately. I feel so much pride for this kid every time her eyes meet mine. I give her hand a gentle squeeze, our secret code to get going, and we start walking toward the front door. I stop before pushing our way out to call over my shoulder and let Ella know we’re leaving.

  “So long, coffee gods!” Riley sings, letting go of my hand so she can start dancing around the room.

  Ella’s smile grows even bigger as she beams at Riley from across the floor. “I bid you farewell, Coffee Princess. Will you be coming to grace us simple folk with your beauty again tomorrow?”

  “Silly El. Where else would I be? I work here, remember? My name is on the signs and alllllll the other stuff, you know,” Riley tells her, annoyed at the slightest possibility she’d have somewhere else to be.

  “Oh my goodness, how could I ever forget? I guess you do kind of run this place more than your silly auntie. What would we do without a boss like you, Princess Riley?” Ella snickers, giving Riley a curtsey that makes her mouth open to release a huge belly laugh.

  I laugh along with them, knowing how much effort I put into this business, especially with all the behind-the-scenes stuff I do at night after Riley goes to sleep.

  Ella’s hours are a close second to mine. She cares about this business as if it were her own, which it might as well be since she bought shares in it two years ago. She’s more than just reliable. She manages the staff and scheduling like a pro and puts in more hours than I’d ask of anyone purely out of choice. I consider myself lucky to have found her, which is why I pay her so well. It doesn’t hurt that she actually does live here.

  “Give me a call or text if you need anything later. I’m sure I’ll be up late tonight. I need to do some ordering for next week, and I keep forgetting the list at home,” I tell Ella as Riley skips back to me, taking my hand and pulling me toward the door.

  “You got it, chickadee.”

  Both Riley and I wear smiles when we push through the front door into the slightly chilled air, the sun heating our faces despite the temperature. I pull the door closed and step onto the sidewalk, happy to see—and feel—the sun rays beaming through the clouds and the rain long gone.

  I only get two feet away from the door when my back tingles with pinpricks of awareness.

  I know what this is.

  Or, I should say, who it is.

  I can feel him.

  I’ve always felt him.

  Even though I sensed him, it still shocked me when he was just there, almost out of thin air.

  My step falters for a moment, Riley jerking my arm when I don’t continue walking with her peppy steps. I feel her turn to look at me, but I don’t look away from the man with his back pressed against the corner of the building. One leg kicked up against the wall, shoulders against the brick, both tattooed arms pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He looks relaxed, but also … not.

  As soon as his eyes lock with mine, I feel a shift in the air.

  Even from the distance, however slight, I can tell a silent storm brews in those fierce dark-green eyes. It feels as if my heart will pound right out from behind my ribs, picking up speed every second he continues to hold my gaze. Other than his expressive eyes, eyes that I’m sure he has no idea give away so much, he shows zero outward sign that he is even as mildly affected by me as I am of him. It’s always like this. I would love to have just a small view inside his mind. Maybe then I would understand what goes on behind the silence.

  Something tells me this man has tons of shadows floating within his depths. I feel it right down to the center of me.

  Curiosity most certainly will kill the cat, but I can’t help but wonder what makes this silent giant tick.

  Not that I have the guts to do anything about my curiosities.

  Taking a deep breath, I try my best at a normal smile. No doubt my smile, however, is completely awkward and slightly off-kilter, making me look more possessed than polite.

  “Hey. I know you, giant.” Riley snickers, covering her mouth with her tiny hand and smiling through her fingers up at him.

  He breaks our eye contact and looks down—way down—at Riley.

  “Is the weather up there different, mister?”

  He shakes his head but doesn’t speak. I’ve never seen someone resist little bean.

 

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