Page 65 of A Barista's Guide to Love & Larceny
It was like she’d time-traveled right back to that place, to that same fear. She hated it.
Dani turned the faucet on full blast and stuck as much of her head as she could fit under it, washing off the remnants of the glamour, the rain, the blood from the cut on her chin. She rinsed out her mouth and spat over and over until she could no longer taste the acrid residue of vomit. Then she grabbed her wet hair in both hands and wrung it out into the sink. The color dripped from the ends and swirled inkily in the drain, her usual ombre breaking like an arctic dawn in the night sky. She tossed it a few times to air-dry it, and confronted her reflection a second time; this was the person she’d made herself into.
A person who had broken her own heart.
Dani didn’t know what else to do—she went out into the bar. Wyatt had beaten her there, already sipping on his scotch and reading the hookah menu when she slid into the plush booth he’d claimed for them. The setting was distinctly romantic, but that didn’t seem toregister with Wyatt, who pushed a tumbler of bubbly golden liquid over to her without looking up.
“I got you a ginger ale,” he said. He was restored to his normal annoying level of handsomeness, his hair back to its close crop and his face clean-shaven. “You ever smoked hookah before?”
“No,” she said, “and I don’t really know if now’s the best time.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, “but you should at least look at the flavors.” He handed her the menu and took in her appearance. “You want a dry?”
She realized he was no longer soaked through, like she was. “If you can, sure.”
He huffed. “If Ican.”
Right—not a one-trick mage. A soft ruffle of warm air rippled her clothes and her hair as Wyatt waved a hand over her body, like the portable version of the dryer in the entrance to the Leap’s library. Her sweater returned to its original fluffiness and her hair felt salon-silky on the back of her neck. “I thought the brown was pretty on you.”
“Thanks,” she said shortly, staring down at the menu, “but I like my hair like this.”
“Hey,” he said. “Hey.” He put a hand over the menu, blocking her view, and she looked up. For once, there was no trace of sass, sarcasm, or suggestiveness on his face. Only real remorse. “We gotta talk about it,” Wyatt said. “What happened tonight.”
“What is there to talk about? You went against Silva’s orders, and you almost got us caught. We’re lucky Katya was able to shut things down when she did.”
“Yeah,” he said. “We are. But I need you to know that thisisn’ta game to me, not in the slightest. I’m just—well, I can be a little impulsive, and I let that get the best of me tonight.”
“You don’t say,” she said, but she felt herself softening.
“I won’t let it happen again.”
It wasn’t her ability making him say this; he’d had enough initiative to address this on his own. Dani met his eyes, and what she saw there was serious enough to convince her. “I believe you,” she said.
“Great,” Wyatt said, with obvious relief. “Now we can order some hookah.” He flipped her menu to the other side. “The magical smokes are on the back.”
“Oh no.” Dani shook her head. “Last thing either of us needs is some kind of enchantment fucking us up.”
“Fair enough. Well, if you want to pick a flavor, I don’t mind.”
“I really don’t know if I’m going to try it.”
“Pick anyway. I’m obviously bad at making decisions.”
“Okay.” She went quiet for a minute as she actually read the options, her mind glomming on to the distraction. “Watermelon mint.”
“As the lady commands.” Wyatt swept out of the booth to place the order. He’d only been gone for about a minute when the door to the bar opened to admit two police officers. They glanced around the establishment, scrutinizing the late-night crowd. Though her body very much wanted to become one with the booth, Dani forced herself to scoot to the edge of her seat and draw the curtains across the opening of the alcove.
She startled when Wyatt slipped back through. “It’s okay,” he said in a low tone. “They didn’t even look at me when they came up to the bar. Still—” He tightened up the gap in the curtains, then took a larger-than-recommended swig of his drink, nearly finishing it in one go.
Dani observed him, eyes lingering on his ostentatious platinum watch. A lump rose in her throat. “Why do you hate him?”
He shook the ice cubes around in his glass. “Hate who?”
“Kass. The CEO’s son. You said he was an asshole.”
“Yeah. ’Cause he is.”
“Why were you at his birthday party, then?”
