Coffee Cup Confessions - Trish Williford Page 0,7
your number.”
He pushes his order pad across the counter, and I take it and write my phone number on it. He reappears with my coffee in a to-go cup, and when I hand him cash, he pushes it back.
“No charge. I’m glad I met you tonight.”
“Please let me pay for my coffee. You’re not going to make any money if you give away your product.”
“I’m not taking your money. We got our awkward first date out of the way tonight.”
On the counter is a donation can for Wounded Warriors Project. I stick the twenty-dollar bill inside and smile. “The Wounded Warriors thank you for your donation.”
He comes around the counter with my coffee cup and nods to the door. “I’ll walk you out. I think my coffee shop full of customers can wait a few minutes.”
“They might burn the place down if you make them wait too long.” I bundle up for the cold; however, Jake doesn’t have anything on other than a long-sleeved dark green thermal henley and dark-wash jeans. “Are you going to put a coat on?”
“Nah. If I do, I might stand outside with you longer than I should, and I can’t keep my needy customers waiting.”
He laughs and opens the door for me, and I step into the winter air. The snow is still falling, and my car has a light dusting covering it.
“Although this cold weather is terrible, I like when it snows. It’s peaceful,” I say as a cloud of fog rises from my mouth.
“I’ve always preferred winter, even as a kid. I’d rather go sledding than to the beach.”
I can hear his voice already trembling from the cold, and I nod back to the store.
“Get inside. You’re going to freeze to death.”
“I’m going to call you, so we can set something up soon, okay?”
“Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks for the coffee.”
He hands me my cup and kisses my cheek. “Be safe. Talk to you soon.”
He jogs back into the coffee shop and immediately runs to the fire. I laugh to myself as I get in my car and start the engine, searching for heat myself. I put the coffee cup into the holder and notice black writing on the lid.
I’m glad you were stood up tonight.
I laugh out loud and look back to the coffee shop to find Jake watching me. He waves and watches as I pull out of the parking lot.
Yeah … I’m glad I was stood up too.
4
Jake
From the entrance of the coffee shop, I watch Misha’s SUV drive away until its taillights disappear down the street.
Since she introduced herself to me, my heart has been pounding in a jackhammer rhythm against my rib cage—a feeling so foreign that I need a breather. Taking the keys out of my pocket, I lock up the front doors and flip the Open sign to the Closed side. With a switch of the lights, the seating area is dark, except the glow of the fireplace. I sit on the couch and watch the orange-and-red flames dance peacefully over the logs, helping to calm my racing heart.
Mandy described Misha as, “chubby, short, fairly plain with stringy hair and green eyes,” so when Misha walked through the doors and shed her outerwear, I really didn’t think she could be the same person. Even when she mentioned meeting a blind date set up by her sister, I was certain it was somehow a coincidence. There was no way anyone on this planet could consider this woman plain by any means.
When she introduced herself, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room, and it was suddenly impossible to breathe. Misha is naturally gorgeous, and what’s even more alluring is that she has no idea she’s so damn beautiful. Misha and Mandy look nothing alike, and I almost didn’t believe that they shared DNA. Misha’s hair is golden brown, her eyes are a mesmerizing green, and holy shit, those are some dangerous-as-fuck curves she has. Where Mandy’s beauty is obviously enhanced by layers of makeup, Misha’s is more natural and striking. There aren’t many women I’ve found myself attracted to since my divorce, but Misha is definitely one.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to find Mandy’s name displayed on the screen.
“How’d it go?” she anxiously asks once I connect the call.
“You’re a damn liar.”
A scoff comes over the line. “How so?”
“Your sister isn’t chubby or plain. She’s pretty gorgeous.”
A sigh of relief comes over the phone. “Whatever. Beauty is