Page 7 of Half Truths (Secret Society 1)
Chapter Three
When I stepped outside my apartment and turned to lock the door, I saw a flyer for a nearby coffee shop attached to the knob. I pulled it off and looked at it as I locked up. It had a couple of pictures showcasing the homey environment and a coupon for fifty-percent off a drink. I looked at the other doors. Everyone else must have risen way earlier than I had because there were no flyers on their doors. I had to walk a good three blocks away from Millionaire’s Row in order to get the small-town vibe the idyllic town promised. When I reached the area that, according to my doorman, Gary, people around here called College Town, I got that vibe. With mom and pop shops lined along the streets and a plethora of bars and coffee shops, it was exactly what I’d been hoping for. Yet, as the winds picked up, blowing my hair in my face, I wondered what the hell I was doing here. Between my talk with Celia about Lana and thinking about Lincoln all morning, I couldn’t help that nagging thought. I shut it off and kept moving forward until I reached the coffee shop from my flyer.
As I pulled the door open, the smell of old books and coffee beans hit me. There were bookshelves all along the walls, big blue couches with wood coffee tables in front of them, and a couple of two-seater tables with chairs. It was the perfect place to sit and read, write, or endlessly scroll social media whilst drinking a latte. I walked over to the line and ordered my skinny latte, handing over my flyer as I paid, before sliding over to the other side of the counter where I waited for my drink. I continued to look around. It was pretty empty, despite it being a Sunday afternoon.
“They say the temperature should stick a few more weeks.”
“That would be nice.” I turned my attention to the barista making my latte. We had perfect weather right now—mid-sixties and sunny forecast.
“Gives people a chance to go out on their boats a few more times.”
I nodded, smiling as I looked around. Maybe while they were out on their boats, I could camp out in here and do some research—more research. Truth be told, I’d stopped Googling things about Lana a month ago, after getting nowhere and not seeing any new information anywhere. Aside from the random Reddit blogs and conspiracy theorists, which I absolutely refused to read, there was nothing to go on. She’d been kidnapped, they said. Taken from her building. But the staff at the building themselves said they’d seen her leave on her own. If that was the case, what was the deal?
“Are you new here?” She slid my latte over to me, tucked her lavender locks behind her ears and set her elbows on the counter, the movement making her dainty necklace dangle forward. My eyes focused on the tiny B before bringing my gaze to her light brown eyes. “I haven’t seen you in here before.”
“I am. I decided to transfer over for my last year.”
“Oh, where’d you go before?”
“Duke.”
“Not bad.” Her eyebrows hiked up. “What brings you here?”
“It’s kind of a family tradition.” I sipped my latte. “Seemed like I’d be letting down a line of men if I didn’t attend.”
“Wouldn’t want to let down the patriarchy.” Her smile held a slight grimace when she said the words. “I’m Hailey, by the way.”
“Amelia. You can call me Mae.” I set down my mug. “How long have you been working here?”
“A while. My mom owns the place. We’re one of the few original townies. I also work at the bar across the street at night.” She stood up straight and pointed in that direction, my gaze followed and fell upon a place named The Bar. “If you ever want to hear some of these people’s deepest, darkest secrets, I’m your girl.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
“I get off in about two minutes. If you want, I can sit with you while you finish your coffee and then I’ll show you around.”
“Actually, I’d like that. I’m afraid I’ve ventured way out of my comfort zone and my phone died.” I wiggled it. “I forgot to charge it last night and I don’t think I can retrace my steps back to my apartment.”
“I’ll take you. I know every single street and alleyway.” She reached behind her waist and pulled her apron off, hanging it up on the wall behind her, walking over to where I was.
“I don’t know why I thought it would be easier to get around here.” I closed the distance to the nearest couch and settled in with my coffee.
“Becca, I’m off the clock,” Hailey shouted.
“Got it,” someone, Becca, I assumed, shouted back. “Deacon is supposed to be here in five minutes.”
