Page 16 of The Best Man Problem
“Wanna know what I found out?”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“Pru? Not you, too?”
The dark-haired woman shrugged. “Look, I’m not saying you should date the guy or engage in sexual activities with him again. In fact, you probably shouldn’t, considering…well, everything. But aren’t you just a little curious about him?”
No. She was perfectly happy with having one amazing night with Lincoln and never seeing him again. That was why she snuck out the morning after, but now…ugh! She couldn’t sit here and listen to what Mo uncovered. It felt…wrong. Like stalking. Internet searching was something you did when you were interested in someone, and she was no longer interested in Lincoln Reid. Not one bit.
“According to all his social media accounts, he’s single.”
Okay, she was a little interested.
“He has a degree from the University of Nebraska in computer science. Works as a software developer, whatever the hell that is. He’s in his early thirties, but I couldn’t pinpoint a birthday.”
And now it was getting creepy. She really couldn’t do this. Standing, she grabbed her purse from her desk drawer and slung the strap over her shoulder.
“I’m going out for coffee. You two want anything?”
Mo glanced to their perfectly working coffee machine behind her desk, a knowing gleam filling her eyes, but she was smart enough to keep her mouth shut.
Pru tilted her head in confusion. “No, thanks. Finn will be back soon to pick me up.”
“It was great seeing you. Enjoy the rest of your time off, and we’ll see you next week, right?”
Pru nodded. Lilly took time to kiss each of the twins on their adorable little heads before heading out of the office and down the street. She had no idea where she was going—she didn’t need coffee; they had an entire pot brewed no more than an hour ago. But after the message from her mom and the Lincoln stuff, the walls had started to close in. Her heartbeat had raced, and her throat swelled, making it hard to swallow. She needed air and a clear head.
She focused on the sound of her heels hitting the sidewalk, the feel of the chilly breeze against her skin. The slight stinging smell of cold in the air, signaling another impending snow.
Before too long, she got her body and mind calm once more. Lilly prided herself on keeping a cool head and solving any problem that came their clients’ way, but often what you did for others was hardest to do for yourself.
Glancing around, she noticed she’d made it all the way to the Art District on Santa Fe just a few blocks away. And would you look at that, she was right in front of Marie and Kenneth’s coffee shop, Déjà Brew. Perhaps she did need a cup after all.
She stepped inside the small coffee house, the warmth of the air inside melting her chilled bones from the walk over and reminding her that, in her haste to leave the office without overhearing any more Lincoln knowledge, she’d grabbed her purse but forgotten her coat. Dummy.
A quick glance around revealed a tidy and cozy type of atmosphere. She’d never been to her clients’ coffee shop. She liked it. The stack of classic board games in the corner and two shelves full of discounted used books gave the place a homey vibe. Not like those chain coffee shops where you came in for the latest trendy drink. This felt like a place a person could sit and enjoy a fine crafted beverage, maybe meet some friends for a game or stimulating conversation.
She made her way across the distressed hardwood floor to the counter, noticing the mishmash of tables, chairs, and cushioned seating filling the room. None of it matched, but that just made it feel more like someone’s living room than a place of business. Kenneth and Marie were savvy. Make the customer feel like they’re at home, and they’ll come back time and again. No wonder the couple could afford Genesee Manor for their wedding.
“Hi, welcome to Déjà Brew. I’m Tristan. What can I get for you?”
She had just opened her mouth to order when a deep, familiar voice spoke from behind her.
“Whatever she wants is on the house, Tristan.”
Whirling around, Lilly came face-to-face with the exact person who’d inadvertently driven her here in the first place. Lincoln Reid.
“What are you doing here? Where are Marie and Kenneth?”
He grinned—smug bastard—holding up a hand to explain.
“I’m here because Marie and Kenneth asked me to look after the shop. They’re having lunch with her parents right now, and even though Tristan is a good worker, he’s never manned the shop by himself before, so I’m here in case he needs any help.”
“We’re pretty quiet today, ma’am, but the fancy drinks take a little longer, and Mr. Reid offered to help if I get in a jam.”
Did he just ma’am her? Oh God, the kid looked about seventeen, eighteen tops, but that only made him about a decade younger than her. Was she really ma’am-looking now?
