Page 44 of The Write Stuff

When I didn’t answer, he brushed my hair away from my face, took a long look, and then dragged me to the table.

“I need a coffee,” I said dumbly. I had such a firm grip on my computer bag that my knuckles were white.

“I’ll get your coffee,” he said.

“You don’t even know what I like.”

He smirked. “You like sugar. That means a mocha. If it has caramel with it, so much the better.”

“I …” How could he remember that?

He broke out in a wide grin. “My mother used to comment on your ordering habits from coffee shops. She said that when she was young, she ordered the same way and then had to adjust when she got older to less flavorful coffees.”

He paused a beat. “The thing is, when I asked if you would start drinking coffee like an adult, she said you wouldn’t because you were freer than her,” he finally continued. “I assume that you still like your coffee sweet.”

All I could do was nod.

“Okay.” He stroked my hair back from my face. I didn’t think he even realized he was doing it. His gaze was seeking, but he didn’t push me. “Sit down. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I did as he instructed, but I was basically going through the motions. I got my tablet out of my bag and set it up with the smart keyboard. Then I retrieved my outline notebook and opened it to where I was in the story. By the time I finished that, Huxley was back with my drink.

“A caramel mocha with almond milk, as promised,” he said as he placed my drink in front of me.

I froze when reaching for it. “You remembered the almond milk?” How? How could he remember that?

He shrugged. “Back then, nobody was drinking almond milk but you. You said that it was healthier, but I knew you’d read that online and believed it was something you should do for your health, not that you wanted to do it. I laughed then, and I laughed a little now when I remembered it. I figured you wouldn’t have given up the almond milk no matter what.”

“It’s fewer calories,” I said lamely.

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

“One day I might.”

“You’re perfect the way you are.” He tapped the table to get me to look at him. “What happened? Why are you so upset? Did Chad show up at your place?” He looked suddenly furious. “I should have been more alert when I was walking you home. We need to call the police.”

That was a lot of questions to absorb in a short amount of time, but ultimately, I shook my head. “It’s not that.” I felt stupid now that I had to say it out loud, but I pushed forward anyway. “I told Lucy she had to get a job.”

His expression turned carefully neutral. “I see.”

“I know it’s not a big deal to you,” I said hurriedly. “I’m being as much of a baby as she is about the whole thing. It’s just, she said something.”

“What did she say? Also, did she kick you? Because, and I know this makes me sound petty, but I’m not afraid to call the cops on her either. She has a history of aggression.”

For some reason — and I would have to think on this hard later — the way he said it made me burst out laughing. I simply couldn’t help myself. “Is this still about the Kit Kat?” I asked as I straightened. I was feeling a little better.

“That was my candy bar. I was a teenager. Why would I steal a candy bar from her when I could afford my own?”

I shrugged. “She was four or five. I can’t even remember. You can’t negotiate with a kid that age. They’re little terrorists.”

“And what is Lucy now?” he asked. “Is she still a terrorist?”

I hesitated, then sighed. “I basically told her she has two weeks to get a job. It wasn’t just what you said last night,” I added hurriedly. “You gave me a push, but I’d already been thinking about it. She’s not a whole person.”

He sat in the chair next to me, rather than the one he’d been in when I first arrived. “What do you mean?”

“She’s been spoiled her whole life,” I explained. “I know I had it easy, too, but I like to think I wasn’t that spoiled. She just assumes that everything should be handed to her on a platter. The thing is, it always was.

“My mother paid for a nanny to travel with us, but the nanny was always instructed to give Lucy whatever she wanted to keep her quiet,” I continued. “Lucy didn’t get as much of my mother’s time as I did, but she got everything else. She would have benefited from the time more.”