booming in my face, “I call that the ‘Textual.’ Because, first, you ain’t gonna be fuckin’ texting when you’re drinking that because you’ll be about nothin’ but drinkin’ that. And second, it’s my signature and it’s got the word Tex in it. Get it?”
“I get it,” I replied.
“So, take a hit and tell me what you think,” he ordered.
I would take a hit because I liked coffee (though I preferred tea). But I took that hit knowing I was going to tell him I loved it even if I loathed it mostly because he seemed kinda friendly, but he also seemed loony and proud of his coffee, and I didn’t want to see how friendly could turn in the way of Tex.
Then, after I took a sip of a latte flavored with almond, cherry and chocolate, my eyes rolled back into my head.
“I’ll take that as approval,” Tex semi-boomed, then strode away.
I was then seated in a couch that sat under the big windows that made up the front of the store and Ava shoved a pink book at me.
It had the big words ROCK CHICK on the front of it.
“Volume one,” she said. “There are ten, but two are novellas, so don’t panic.”
She then plonked down in an armchair across from me and shouted, “Tex! I need a skinny vanilla, stat.”
“I only do deliveries to women whose lives are in danger!” he bellowed what was clearly not a joke. “Get your ass up here, you want a coffee.”
She grinned at me and hauled her ass up to the counter.
Ally, Daisy and Shirleen all went to work, Roxie went shopping, and Jet and Indy worked at Fortnum’s (Indy owned it) so they got to work too, after introducing me to Duke, a long-gray-haired Harley dude who had a rolled bandana around his forehead.
All this while Lottie and Ava hung with me, sipping coffee.
That was the first time my phone rang.
The screen said DANIEL MAGNUSSON.
I’d have to change that to “Danny.”
Right before I deleted it.
I took the call on a “Hey.”
“Hey, comin’ to you for lunch. What do you want?”
He was coming to me for lunch?
That wasn’t part of Tex’s plan.
I wasn’t sure we should deviate from Tex’s plan.
“Um…”
“Culver’s?” he suggested.
“What?”
“Fried cheese curds and frozen custard?”
Gross.
“Together?” I asked.
I listened to him laugh in my ear.
God.
Beautiful.
“No, baby,” he murmured. “I’ll get you Culver’s. I’m in the vicinity. Make your week.”
My week was made meeting a protective hot guy who could kiss, didn’t forget to bring me a toothbrush and had a beautiful laugh I could convince myself I wanted to hear until my dying day.
His week included staking out late-night, clandestine meetings at storage units, me being a bitch to him, having to enter my ruined apartment armed and a sit-down with my brother.
Totally had to get my body with the program in order to save Mag from the disaster that was my life.
“I don’t own any workout clothes,” I told him.
“You’ll get set up again, Evie,” he assured.
“No, I mean, even before my belongings were decimated, I didn’t own any workout clothes. I took pride in that. If I keep eating like you eat, I’ll need workout clothes, and right now, I can’t afford them.”
He sounded appalled when he asked, “No yoga pants?”
That was when I started laughing.
And again, my body, most especially my mouth, was not getting with the program.
“So, how’d it go at the station?” he queried into my laughter.
“And he slips that in after promises of fried cheese curds and frozen custard and making me laugh,” I whispered.
“How’d it go, honey?” he whispered back.
How it went was, I took care of me by reporting a dangerous situation to the police, but I did it feeling like I was hammering nails into my brother’s coffin.
“It’s done.”
“It’s gonna be okay.”
His definition of okay, with a living, breathing Evie, and my definition of okay, with a living, breathing me and my brother were not the same.
Even so.
“Yeah,” I muttered.
“Ask around, text orders, and I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay.”
“Later, babe.”
No boyfriend in my life, or even a guy I dated, called me “babe.”
I said not a word, except, “Later, Danny.”
We hung up, I took orders, typed the longest text of my life to send them to Mag, and once it swooshed away, the bell over the door went, which happened so much, the staff had to tune it out or it’d drive them insane.
I’d heard of Fortnum’s and the coffee there (though, again, I was a tea person). I’d heard of the Rock