Page 24 of How (Not) to Conjure a Boyfriend
“Uh…” An answer refuses to come forward. I fight back the urge to run. How much of what I said did she hear? Does she know? Did she hear me confessing to him? Please, no! I can’t do that right now!
“How long have you…been here?” I ask, not at all sketchily.
“Just got here, darling,” she says.
That calms my nerves a bit. Not as much as I’d like, but I guess it’ll do.
“Oh, okay,” I say.Act natural, Kenzie! Act natural.“I gotta go, Mom’s waiting for me.”
And I take off.
9
“You making an Americano?” Landon leans over my shoulder.
“Yeah,” I say, repeatingno whipped cream, no whipped cream.I always forget they don’t get any.
“’Kay, I’ll get the maple latte,” he comes back.
Kaitlynn is busy at the pastry station loading up bags with sweets and baked items for our Sunday afternoon rush, complete with a long line reaching the entrance: tucked-in polos and button-ups, long flowy dresses, and dress boots topped off in thick jackets, all waiting impatiently. The local churches must have let out.
I clamp a lid on the cup and do a half spin to end up next to Dawn at the register. She’s greeting customers with her perpetual smile while I plop the Americano on the counter.
“Daniel,” I yell over the chitchat and scuffling, and wait long enough for a middle-aged man with spectacles to walk over and nod before leaving the cup unattended.
Back at the prep counter, a new order receipt prints out. I tear it off and put it on the line behind four others without glancing at what’s on the paper. I check the next ticket, slap two cups on the line, and twist around to Kaitlynn.
“I need a slice of pumpkin pie with crème, a slice of key lime, and two sugar cookies, for here,” I tell her, but I don’t stop there. “And I need you to save me from this crap show.”
I’m not talking about the chaos in the dining area or the powdered mess Landon and I are making, including a few sticky globs of caramel under the collection of flavored syrups. Landon’s contribution. Kaitlynn understands immediately though.
“It’syourcrap show, not mine.” She grins and swings back around.
“Not the point.” I roll my eyes and go back to prepping my cups. I really want to say “shit show,” but Dawn says we have to consider our clientele.
“You could have just…oh, I don’t know—not lied. Ever thought of that?”
“It’s not…” I stop. I want to deny it, but I can’t. So I redirect. “It’s not that simple. How could I have said no?”
“No,” Landon and Kaity say in unison. Smart-asses, both of them. Then Kaitlynn keeps going. “You say,I’m not.Didn’t happen.Just a friend.Sorry. I don’t know. Lots of ways! How many times are you going to ask me that?”
“Until you give me an answer I like.” I huff and drop a shot of espresso into a cup. “Plus, it’s a little late for that. So what do I donow?”
“Tell them.” Dawn throws her voice into the conversation without looking back. She overheard us talking about it earlier and so yeah, she’s nowinon my terrible life choices. I blame Kaity’s big mouth for that one.
“That,” Kaitlynn agrees. “Do that.”
“You want me to just walk up and say, ‘Hey Mrs. Marcus, I lied to your face. I’m not your son’s person’?!” I say it with as much sarcasm as I can muster without being too obvious to customers.
“Not li—” Kaitlynn starts, but Dawn interrupts her.
“How about y’all talk about this little drama once this rush stops.” She grins and nods at us expectantly. “Okay?”
I nod and go silent. This is the only thing on my mind right now, so I have nothing else to say. Ten minutes later the crowd has lightened, and I nudge Kaitlynn.
“So…”
“Kenzie,” Kaitlynn sighs. “I’m not some Buddha. I don’t know!”
