Page 10 of Taking the Pitch
“What will happen for him?” Mom asks, curious eyes bouncing back and forth between us before realization crosses her face. “Oh Juddson, is that what this is about?” she asks softly.
Dad pats her hand and gets up from the couch. “Let’s not get into this now, Mar. Let the boy tackle his demons before you start playing matchmaker.” Mom looks at me. “Now, I don’t know about you two, but I could use some pie.” He gives me a wink and heads to the door. Mom stands with a concerned look, like she wants to say something more, but Dad pulls her along with him.
She reaches the door and turns to look back at me. “Everything’s going to be alright Judd, we’ll take on whatever happens next together.”
My shoulders droop in relief and I release a breath I feel like I’ve been holding since seeing those red and blue lights last night. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You coming? There might not be any pie left if we don’t hurry.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. “I’m coming, I just need a minute,” I tell her, reaching for my phone.
Once she leaves, I open the email Charlie promised to send. Reading through it, twice, I feel a spark of excitement. Opening my text thread to Charlie, I send her a text.
Me
I’m in.
CHAPTER THREE
amelia
TWO WEEKS LATER
“Length or girth?”Hazel asks, handing me my as large as you can get, pumpkin spice cold brew and apple cider donut. Hazel opened Latte Daze three years ago, and I have been a regular since day one. We hit it off right away, and the rest is obviously history. While I love almost everything Hazel makes, her fall and winter menus are my favorite.
I love fall, and these seasonal sweet treats are just a bonus to the reasons why. Walking in the crisp air, watching the leaves change from green to vibrant, yellows, reds and oranges, honestly what’s not to like? I don’t even mind the ridiculous amount of rain we get, because on days like this, when it’s sunny, beautiful and cold…the rain is worth it.
Taking a sip of my coffee, I hum with delight. “Hazel, you are a godsend.” I just got back from a two-month book tour two days ago and jet-lag is still kicking my ass. Taking a bite of my donut, I moan in ecstasy. “Neither–everything is disappointingcompared to this delightful, confectionary blessing,” I tell her around a mouth full of donut.
Hazel snickers, “You can’t fuck a donut.” She wrinkles her nose. “Well,youcan’t.” She pauses and looks over my shoulder at the only other person in the café at the moment. I follow her gaze, looking at the guy with a plain black baseball hat pulled low over his eyes, earbuds securely in his ears. He’s messing around on his phone and doesn’t seem to be paying attention. She looks back at me. “Anyway, answer. Which is it?”
I finish my donut and tip my head back and forth in thought. “As long as it doesn’t have me questioning if it’s in yet and faking my way through the whole thing, I’m not picky.”
The guy behind me sputters and starts coughing. I turn around and see him mopping up what I assume is his coffee he spit out. I shrug and turn back around. Guess he was listening, after all.
“Such high standards,” Hazel says dryly.
“Hey, it’s not like I’ve been having mind blowing, make you forget your own name, sex like someone else,” I tell her, giving her a pointed look.
Hazel smirks and pops a shoulder. “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”
I laugh, rolling my eyes. I glance at my watch and realize if I don’t take off soon, I’m going to be late. I’m going to the library early to meet with Gladys and Irene and the person who is supposed to help bring more eyes to my program. “Hey, can you put two more in a bag for me to take to Gladys and Irene? I’m sure they would appreciate it.”
“Sure thing,” Hazel says, popping two donuts in a bag and handing it to me.
“Thanks, Haze.”
Taking the leash out of my belt loop, I look down at Bruno, my four-year-old blue merle Australian Shepherd I adoptedwhen he was six months old. “Ready to go, buddy?” Bruno’s ears perk and he looks up at me with his one blue eye, one brown eye. “Come on lazy bones, time to work.” Bruno stands up and arches his back, stretching like a cat. He extends his neck up in another stretch, then sits back on his haunches with a grumble and a yawn.
“Oh, poor Bruno, do you needs a cookie to make it all better?” Hazel baby talks to him.
I roll my eyes and laugh. “You spoil him. No wonder he has such a complex.”
Hazel reaches into the smaller case next to the main one and pulls out an oatmeal and pumpkin flavored bone shaped cookie, because not only does she serve humans, she caters to our four-legged friends too.
Coming around the counter, Hazel stands in front of Bruno, whose attention is now one hundred percent on the redhead holding his delectable treat.
“At least make him do something to earn it.”
