Lauren
Karma is real. I was a believer long before Taylor Swift touted its power. But honestly, I never cared how it came around for others. If living in foster care taught me anything, it’s to focus on what I can control and not give a flip what other people did. The best revenge has always been a great life.
And my life was great. I loved being part of a tight-knit community. My coffee shop/bookstore, appropriately named Karma, was thriving. I had wonderful friends and two adorable cats who kept me warm at night, plus a third I’d eventually convince to love me.
Just not today.
Dido hissed when I opened my closet door. She’d curled herself into a tight ball on my favorite suede boots, leaving flecks of fur all over them. I hoped she hadn’t clawed any of the dresses within reach of her vengeful paws. Even if I had far too many for someone who wore a t-shirt and yoga pants to work every day, I loved them all. I’d be checking for damage later.
“Good morning to you too,” I said, reaching inside the closet to grab an old pair of sneakers to replace the coffee-soaked ones I’d left downstairs.
Dido growled and arched her back. Her calico fur stood on end, and she lifted the stub of a tail she had remaining.
“Stop that,” I said, retreating as fast as I could.
I’d already peeled off my soggy socks before rushing up the steps to my apartment. My colorful aqua Karma apron had taken the brunt of the spill, saving my shirt and my skin. Luckily, I’d gotten my shoes off before the hot liquid burned my feet. My black leggings were a little damp, but I needed to get back downstairs. I grabbed a pair of Jane Austen socks, pride for my right foot, prejudice for my left, while Dido gave me the stink eye. I yanked on the shoes as fast as I could and sprinted out of my apartment, down the steps, and through the back room. By the time I reached the counter, the line was out to the sidewalk.
“I’m so sorry,” Wyatt said again while I tied a fresh apron around my waist. He pushed a mop through the area behind the register where he’d dropped a full pot of dark roast, smearing coffee and broken glass everywhere.
“It’s ok,” I said, taking the mop from him. It wasn’t like Wyatt to be so agitated unless his blood sugar was off. I grabbed his hands and looked him in the eyes. His palms were sweaty, which instantly made me anxious. “Do you need to eat something?”
He shook his head. “I’m fine. Just clumsy.”
His complexion didn’t look off, or I’d have made him check his blood sugar. He was probably just embarrassed. “No one was hurt,” I said, giving his hands a squeeze. “And anyone who can’t find patience for us right now can leave.”
I said that last part loud enough for everyone in line to hear. No one moved.
“See,” I said. Wyatt squeezed my hands back before dropping them and reaching for the mop. “Focus on the glass first, OK,” I said, handing him a dish towel. “Then mop after. I’ll take care of the line.”
He nodded, kneeled to the floor, and began picking up shards with the towel. Something was definitely off with Wyatt. He wasn’t clumsy by nature and going straight for the mop while glass littered the floor didn’t match the common sense I admired in him.
I made a mental note to check in with him the next time we had a lull. After grabbing a full pot of breakfast blend and a stack of to-go cups, I stepped around the counter and faced the crowd.
“OK, everyone,” I said, loudly. “Drip coffee drinkers in front of me. Everyone else form a line to the left. For those in my line, I’m pouring black coffee and you’ll fix it however you’d like at the self-serve station. You can drop your payment in the tip jar or pay next time. If that doesn’t work, please get in the other line. Anyone ordering food should join that line as well. After we clear out the regular coffee drinkers, we’ll help everyone else as fast as we can. Got it?”
Everyone shuffled into position. Within a couple minutes, I’d served black coffee to over half the customers in the original line, and Wyatt had cleaned the area behind the counter.
We worked together making espresso drinks and hot chocolate for the remaining customers, who were all pleasant and grateful after I announced they’d all be getting a free cookie with their order. A few, like the town pharmacist Mr. Wilson, refused it outright.
“I don’t need a freebie, Lauren,” he said, handing me the full amount for his cappuccino and cookie. “Nobody else did either.”
I leaned forward so Wyatt wouldn’t hear me. “I wanted to smooth over the situation as fast as possible. If people got nasty, Wyatt would have felt worse. Plus, it helps Rowan and Poppy’s bakery.”
Mr. Wilson shook his head but smiled at me. “You’re too generous, young lady.”
“Pot, kettle,” I said, pointing at myself and then him. He smiled, shoved a five in the tip jar, and left.
By the time we had a handle on the line, I had three minutes to spare before story time. Wyatt was still knocking out drinks, so our chat would have to wait. I grabbed my extra-large mug of black coffee and headed toward the bookstore portion of Karma. No matter how many times I walked through the shelves, it felt like stepping into paradise.
I’d never met my grandpa before he pulled me out of foster care. To this day, I don’t know if the state found him or if Mom realized she’d never get her shit together and asked her estranged father to step in. During the first awkward weeks Grandpa and I lived together, I spent most of my time in the bookshop, reading. Neither of us wanted to talk about Mom or my life before I came to Peace Falls, so we talked about books. Books we’d both read. Books we recommended to each other. Our little book club of two lasted until he passed away a year after I graduated high school.
When I took over the store, I removed the cards and glossy magazines to make room for the coffee bar that now accounted for seventy percent of my profit. I’d crammed in as many tables and chairs as I could, but judging by how fast they filled, it wasn’t enough. I would probably make more money if I removed a few bookshelves and expanded the café menu and seating, but I couldn’t bring myself to make any more changes to the shop.
I’d kept the ornate tin ceiling throughout but painted it a light blue. Most of the comfy leather seating scattered between the bookshelves had been in the store for years. Grandpa was a hipster before his time and had fully embraced the exposed brick trend decades before it became popular. I’d added works by local artists to the walls but kept all his historic black-and-white photographs of Peace Falls. Overall, the bookstore remained familiar and cozy, with enough additions to make it my own.
As I waited for the kiddos to arrive, I gulped my coffee and enjoyed sitting down for the first time since 4:30 am. A half-dozen children flopped at my feet while I read and tried to avoid rocking on their tiny fingers. I liked children in small doses. I started Sunday Story Hour because I loved watching kids fall in love with books. Adding Thursdays for Tots so harried stay-at-home parents could enjoy a cup of coffee and a chat while I read to their toddlers and preschoolers was for karma’s sake and why, instead of doing payroll, I was reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar to a group of wriggling children, one of whom had sneezed on me twice.
“Another?” a little boy named Max asked as I finished the last book I’d intended to read. The other kids looked ready to bolt from the carpet after four stories, but Max sat calmly by my feet with my blind cat Medusa in his lap, his thick glasses magnifying his cornflower blue eyes.
“I’m sure Ms. Lauren has a lot of work to do,” his mother, Brandi, said, crouching down to his level. She gave his back a gentle rub, and he looked up at her with so much love in his eyes, my breath caught.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve watched parents with their kids. Sometimes with envy when I was little, sometimes with anger when I recognized something of my own mother in their behavior, but always with interest. I’d have envied Max if we were both kids. He may have an unfair share of health problems, but he’d won the parental jackpot. Brandi and her husband were the best mom and dad combo I’d ever seen. Good thing too, since Max needed more support than most kids.
“OK,” Max said, agreeably. “Thank you, Ms. Lauren.”
Brandi smiled at him, and her tired face glowed with happiness. “I still need to do a little work on the computer, but Ms. Lauren has coloring sheets and crayons in the front.”
He flashed a crooked grin and gently set Medusa on the braided rug before he used the arm of my rocking chair to pull himself to his feet. Brandi reached for him, then drew her hands back as he took one uneven step after another. I scooped up Medusa and held her close to my neck so she could smell me and know who was holding her. I walked beside Brandi, whose arms were as tense as a pair of cobras ready to strike should Max lose his balance as he limped to the front.
“Thanks so much for letting me use your computer, Lauren,” she said without taking her eyes from her son. “Our internet provider said it’d be another week before they fixed our service, and Max’s doctor sent over a ton of forms he wants completed before our next appointment.”
“Use it any time,” I said. “Medusa loves when Max visits.” At the sound of her name, my cat purred against my neck. I gave her head a scratch and she rumbled louder.
“That’s because we understand each other,” Max said without turning around. “I don’t see well without my glasses, so I know how scary it can be if something moves too fast or makes a loud noise. She likes that I’m quiet and don’t move much when I hold her.”
I didn’t miss the sheen in Brandi’s eyes. If I didn’t love Medusa so much or think Brandi already had an overflowing plate, I’d offer to let Max take the cat home. Instead, I told Brandi to print out as many forms as she needed.
“Are you sure?” she asked as Max took a seat at one of the bistro tables by the career center, which Brandi had claimed earlier with their jackets. “I’m happy to pay you.”
I shook my head. “Someone dropped off paper and ink this morning.”
The career center wasn’t much. Just a couple computers I’d salvaged from a lawyer’s office in town and a 3-in-1 printer/fax/copier shoved in the corner beneath a corkboard where local businesses posted job openings. It may not be state-of-the art, but I’d seen a lot of good happen there. Single moms applying for work. High schoolers printing out term papers. Retirees writing editorials for the town’s newspaper.
“Huh,” Brandi said, glancing at the front door, where without fail supplies appeared whenever I needed them. “I wonder if it’s the same person or a bunch of different people paying back your kindness.”
I shrugged. “I’m just happy the printer stays stocked.”
My three-legged cat, Desdemona, ran-hopped to my feet and began weaving around my legs. Dido jumped on the table beside Max and hissed at me.
For a cat who hated people, she sure made use of the cat doors throughout the building to find me when she wanted to unleash her attitude. “Be nice,” I said to her.
She plopped down on the far side of the table, beyond Max’s reach. Her stub flicked at a steady tempo that seemed more pissed off than happy.
“Would you mind if I left Medusa with you?” I asked Max.
“Sure,” Max said, holding out his arms for her. He laid her gently on his small lap and waited until she’d curled into a contented ball before he started petting her.
Desdemona stopped weaving between my legs and let out a desperate meow, clearly seeking more affection herself.
“Think you can handle two?” I asked Max.
“The one without the tail doesn’t like me,” he said in a quiet voice.
“Dido doesn’t like anyone, but Desdemona would appreciate some love. If I put her on the chair beside you, can you pet her too?”
Max beamed at me. “Yes, ma’am.”
I lifted Desdemona onto the chair and gave her ears a couple scratches before I headed for the counter. If I didn’t submit payroll in the next hour, I’d have to pay additional fees to ensure Wyatt and my friend and part-timer, Cammie, got paid on time.
When I walked behind the counter toward the back, I found Wyatt twisting a dishtowel in his hands and pacing. Yep, something was definitely up.
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Everything OK?”
He opened his mouth to speak when the bell over the front door clanged, and Dr. Evers stepped inside.
“Mocha latte?” I asked the doctor.
“Yes, please,” he said, approaching the counter.
I grabbed the coconut milk, Dr. Evers’s favorite, and poured some in a frothing pitcher. Like the well-oiled machine we were, Wyatt started making two espresso shots.
I bumped his hip once he had it set to brew. “What’s up?”
He waited until I started heating the milk to speak. “Aiden offered me a job.”
“You’re quitting?” I screeched over the blast of the milk frothier.
Karma was definitely paying me back. Why else would a meathead like Aiden O’Malley be super glued in my life to wreck it every chance he could?
Over the years, I’d perfected the art of sleeping with someone and cutting them loose without hurt feelings or lingering awkwardness. Unfortunately, my singular sheet tango with Aiden happened right out of high school, when I wasn’t yet skilled in the art of the one-night stand. Things have remained weird between us ever since.
To make matters worse, Aiden was best friends with Cal, my best friend Rowan’s fiancé, so of course we’re thrown together all the time. Once Cal’s other best friend, Theo, started dating Rowan’s sister, Poppy, Aiden and I became a default pairing in our group of six. Fortunately, Cammie was coming on this weekend’s bachelor/bachelorette trip, so at least there’d be a buffer between Aiden and me.
Wyatt had the decency to duck his head like a teenager caught getting handsy with his date in the back of a movie theater. “I’m not quitting,” he said. “I just want to cut back my hours. I can still cover weekends and evenings.”
“I have Cammie for those,” I said, dumping hot milk over a double shot of espresso and adding an obscene amount of chocolate syrup.
Wyatt shuffled from one chuck to the other while I stirred the mocha latte hard enough to whip cream before adding a mountain of actual whipped cream on top. “You work more than any person I know, Lauren. If you let Cammie and I work together and add someone to your day shifts, you could finally have time off. You need it.”
True. But I loved Karma. It only felt like work when my feet ached and the espresso machine acted up. More importantly, I didn’t trust anyone to run my business.
I fought the urge to glare at Wyatt and plastered a smile on my face as I walked to the register. “Here you go, Dr. Evers,” I said, handing the man his to-go cup. “Would you like a brownie as well?”
The good doctor looked at the glass case with all the delicious baked goods supplied by Rowan and Poppy’s bakery and sighed. “I better not. I gave up dessert for Lent.”
Because I want to be nice, I didn’t point out that his drink of choice probably had more sugar than a brownie. “In that case, your first brownie after Easter is on me.”
We both knew he’d pay for his next brownie, whether he put the money in the tip jar or the drawer, and that I’d end up putting two brownies in his bag when he asked for one. He winked at me and started drinking his latte before he reached the door.
As soon as Dr. Evers was out of earshot, I whirled to face Wyatt. He’d crept as far from me as possible while I had my back turned. Either I hadn’t hidden my annoyance well or the espresso machine really did need his attention. And damn it, Wyatt was the only person who could coax that beast into a better mood.
I took a moment to get my emotions in check. Wyatt was more like family than an employee. Even better, since the relationship was chosen. He was one of the sweetest and most reliable people I knew, which meant I shouldn’t be screeching at him. “What’s Aiden paying you?” I asked, forcing my voice to sound calm.
“Twenty-five dollars an hour with benefits.”
My stomach sank. I paid my workers above minimum wage and slid every tip their way, but even so, Aiden’s offer was a huge jump for Wyatt. Karma did well, but we didn’t have the profit margins of a construction company. And if I upped Wyatt’s pay, I’d have to up Cammie’s. It was only fair. With pay rates like that, I wouldn’t be able to hire additional staff.
“I can’t pay twenty-five, but I can bump you to eighteen. With tips, you’d only be a few dollars an hour short. I can up the coffee prices again and give you another raise in a couple of months.”
“I’d rather you raise the prices, hire someone at my current rate, and give yourself some time off.”
Wyatt wasn’t wrong. We desperately needed more employees. I rarely had over five hours of sleep a night. As much as I hated to admit it, I was burning out.
“Plus, I need the health insurance.”
My stomach sank. “I thought you were on the college’s plan.”
He shook his head. “I lost coverage when I became a part-time student. My COBRA is about to run out.”
Damn it. No way could I offer him health insurance. I could barely cover my own premiums, and as a diabetic, Wyatt needed coverage.
He stared at me with those earnest brown eyes, the ones that convinced me to hire him even though he was a stranger at the time, and all my irritation melted. Well, at least all my irritation at Wyatt. I still had plenty for Aiden. If I couldn’t have Wyatt full time, keeping him with fewer hours was better than not at all. “It’s a great opportunity for you.”
“It is,” Wyatt said, beaming. “I learned so much already on the projects I helped with before, and everyone on Aiden’s crew likes working for him.” He paled slightly. “It’s not that I don’t love working here. And you’re the best boss I’ve ever had, it’s just—”
I held up my hand to stop him. “You’d be crazy to turn it down.” I opened my arms, and he rushed forward to hug me, lifting me slightly off my feet. “You’ll always have a place here, Wy.”
“Good,” he said, stepping back. “Cause I don’t want to leave Karma or you.”
“Especially if it means sharing shifts with Cammie.”
He smiled like I knew he would. The poor guy has had a crush on Cammie since the day he walked in the door. I’ve tried my best to discourage him since she’s sworn off men and was actually afraid of most, Wyatt included. But he’d remained hopeful without pestering her.
“Maybe she’ll finally talk to me,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m hoping she’ll be in a good mood after your trip. Aiden said he didn’t want me to start until after you and Cammie get back from St. John. So don’t worry about that.”
Of course I was worried. I’d be leaving Karma in the hands of Rowan’s seventeen-year-old brother, Chris, and Wyatt, who’d just informed me he needed to be replaced. Even worse, I’d be spending four days on a tropical island with Aiden O’Malley.
He’d likely run around shirtless the entire time. It’d been almost a year since my last one-night stand. Long enough that Aiden, who had always been annoyingly handsome, was starting to make my pulse jump every time he bought coffee. And not just because he pissed me off.
He had the most piercing blue eyes I’d ever seen, the kind of ice blue that snagged your attention, whether you wanted to give it or not. I knew exactly how great his full mouth and trim beard felt against my skin. The muscles he’d carved through hours of work with his skilled hands. His thick — I did not want a repeat of that rodeo. Don’t get me wrong, the sex had been great. Honestly, the most mind blowing, toe curling, best I’d ever had. But we’d fallen into bed with very different expectations. I’d assumed the former quarterback of the football team wanted to add me to his long list of hookups. Imagine my surprise when he wanted more. He didn’t take the brush off well. And after years of avoiding me, he’d made it his mission to irritate me ever since Rowan started dating Cal. I’d tried to keep my calm, but he inevitability drew out the worst version of me.
As much as I wanted to get away and soak up the sun, part of me dreaded spending so much time with Aiden. Since he just poached my only full-time employee, I now had the perfect excuse to stay home.
“Let me know your new schedule, and we’ll fit you in here whenever you can,” I told Wyatt.
“Thanks, Lauren,” he said and turned back to the espresso machine, which gave a steamy sigh when he loosened something and thumped the side.
The next thing I knew, it was closing time. Payroll was late, the inventory hadn’t been unpacked, and someone spilled the half-full mug of coffee I’d left in the children’s section all over the carpet. As I locked the door behind the last customer, I started counting all the tasks I needed to complete and the hours left before we opened again at 5:00 am.
I’d be lucky to get four hours of sleep tonight. No way could I manage without Wyatt full time. If I didn’t post the job and start interviewing tomorrow, I’d have to cut Karma’s hours.
I texted Rowan and explained that I couldn’t make the bachelor-bachelorette trip. When she asked why not, I replied:
Aiden.
Because karma’s a bitch.