Loverboy (The Company #2) - Sarina Bowen Page 0,86

foot the bill for a qualified candidate to get a thousand bucks for agreeing to start right away. What do you think?”

I think I’ve never gotten angry so quickly in my life. “That’s not your call, is it?” I bark.

“Well, no.” He winces. “I was trying to solve our problem.”

“Our problem,” I echo. “You mean my problem. The one I have with unreliable men? Is this it for you? Just like that? Poof, and I’m down an employee?”

His sheepish face tells me all I need to know.

“I see. You’ve had your fun here. Does that mean you were successful with—” I stop myself before asking if he’d identified the killer. He won’t be able to say so out loud, not in front of the last two customers who are still enjoying my WiFi connection even though their cups are empty and their pie plates contain nothing but crumbs.

“Just so you know, I’m going to lean on Teagan for some more hours. And I can work tomorrow,” he says. “Until noon.”

“Until noon.” Does he mean only tomorrow until noon? Another glance at his guilty face confirms that it’s true. “I see.” And damn it, I do see. It was always going to happen like this. Why did I not understand that?

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I feel terrible about leaving you in the lurch.”

“Right.” I swallow hard. “Of course you do.” Why do I feel so crushed? It’s not just the barista job, either. Gunnar means a whole lot more to me than coffee. And now he’s done? With me, too?

I shouldn’t leap to conclusions. “Listen, what if we got some sushi tonight and did a little brainstorming about the new hire?”

“We’ll definitely have that conversation.” He frowns. “Tonight isn’t good for me, though.”

“Oh,” I say quietly. “I see.”

One of those lingering customers clicks his laptop shut and prepares to depart. Needing something to do with my hands, I hustle over there and take his cup and plate off the table. “Thanks for coming in,” I say cheerfully, although I’m dying inside.

Is this really it? I thought Gunnar’s time in my shop would telegraph its ending. That there’d be a big moment of clarity when he and Max sorted out their mystery and celebrated its conclusion.

But I guess I’m not privy to that part. Gunnar is going to disappear as quickly as he arrived—from my shop, and from my bed. And it’s abundantly clear that I’m going to be far more upset about it than he is.

I carry those dishes swiftly out of the room. “Flip the sign, Jerry!” I call out. “I’ll wash these last couple of things.”

“Okay, Posy!” He gives me a big smile.

I turn on the water with a blast into the metal sink, and it’s loud enough to cover the sound of my unhappy sigh. I hose the coffee dregs out of the cup like it’s the most important thing in the world. Then I grab the soapy sponge and scrub.

“I will not pine for that man,” I say under my breath. “Pining is for losers.”

But he’s so pretty, my hormones whine. And we want him around. We might even be falling in love with him.

I scrub the plate and take deep breaths, so I won’t do something stupid. Like cry.

When I shut the water off, Gunnar is standing in the doorway to my tiny office, and he’s talking to Teagan, I think. “Come on, now,” he says. “I’ll walk you out.” He’s giving her his loverboy smile. And when she steps into view, he puts his arm around her back and leads her toward the front of my shop without a backward glance at me.

He’s turned on the charm, hoping to convince Teagan to take a bunch of extra shifts behind the counter. He’s trying to assuage his guilt at abandoning me like a used napkin.

I’m going to be eating takeout sushi alone on the sofa tonight, I realize. With the same extra-large glass of cheap white wine I was drinking the night that Gunnar walked back into my life.

How fitting.

“Posy?” Jerry calls from the front. “I know we’re closed now, but someone is here to see you!”

Please, God, let it not be another health inspector. “Coming!” I trot out to the front with no small amount of trepidation. What else could go wrong today?

But it’s not a health inspector. It’s a young woman with dark skin, clear brown eyes, long, elaborate earrings and her hair piled into a jaunty bun on top of her head. “My