Girl Gone Viral (Modern Love #2)(3)

“No thanks necessary.” Andy embraced her and patted her on the back gently. “I can see myself out. Text or call if you need anything.”

“I will.” Katrina waited for Andy to make her way down the hallway to the back door of the building before heading in the other direction, toward the café’s dining area.

The large place was usually filled with sun, but the blinds were still closed, giving it an intimate, quiet air. This street didn’t get much foot traffic in the early morning, so the owner opened late and focused on brunch and lunch.

Katrina went straight to the counter. She avoided looking in the mirror behind the register that reflected the whole café.

And the tall, dark, and handsome man sitting motionless near the door.

Instead, she visually traced the sign hung above the mirror, made up of driftwood and rope, the kind of thing you could get at a stall on the beach.

Happiness is a radical act.

She mouthed the words to herself, as she had since the first time she’d come in here, pushing them into her soul.

A slight silver-haired woman bustled out of the kitchen and beamed at Katrina. Her face was wrinkled from sun, weathered by wind and the ocean. The eighty-year-old café owner remained an avid surfer. Every morning before she came to this shop, she hit the beach. “How was your visit with your little friend?”

“Lovely, thank you.” Mona Rodriguez knew Andy was her therapist. For a year now, every Thursday morning, Mona had graciously provided the use of her back office before the business opened. She treated Katrina like her granddaughter and the sessions like they were playdates.

“Are you staying for a bit? Can I get you more coffee?”

Katrina nodded. Sometimes she left before Mona opened, but today she’d like to be around other people. “Yes, please. Two, actually, and a croissant.” She handed over her mug and tapped her smart watch to pull up her credit card.

Mona shook her head firmly as she poured the coffee. “No charge on refills.”

Katrina raised an eyebrow, not swayed by this new tactic. “We both know that’s not your policy, and one of those isn’t a refill. Well, two of those, since a croissant can’t be refilled.”

Mona smiled. “It’s my policy for investors, especially when those investors are friends.”

Warmth filled her heart and Katrina couldn’t help but smile back, though her sigh was exasperated. “We’ve been over this. That wasn’t an investment, I want no equity.”

“When someone saves my business from a big shitty corporation trying to steal it from me, and tells me they don’t want to be paid back”—Mona scooped a croissant from the display case onto a plate—“I consider them investors, and they get a free cup of fucking coffee every now and then.”

Katrina’s cheeks turned hot. The situation hadn’t been nearly as dramatic as Mona made it sound. A few months ago, Katrina had learned that French Coast had been served notice of a sky-high rent increase. It was a common ploy to force older mom-and-pop shops out in favor of big-chain money.

Mona had started this business with her husband forty years ago. Her spouse and son were gone. She needed the café and not only for the money it provided.

Katrina didn’t lack for money. It hadn’t pained her to give Mona a cash infusion to make up the difference in the higher rent and float her through a couple years. She’d earned that money back easily on her actual investments.

Her gift had been partially made out of sentiment. This had been the first place she’d managed to step inside of, after almost five years, where her PTSD and panic disorder had narrowed her range of activity to her own home and the grounds around it. The coffee shop was a simple place, but coming here had given her the confidence to try to go to another place, and then another.

“Instead of the free coffee, of course, I could set you up with my neighbor as thanks.” Mona beamed at her. “He’s beautiful. Has a nice head of hair, always has a lady wandering in and out of his house. I talked to one of them once, when she stepped on my petunias. He’s got a huge—”

“Mona.”

The older woman widened her eyes in faux-innocence. “Bird. Also, his prison conviction was just expunged.”

Katrina stifled her grin. She might have to start dating somewhere, but she felt like she had to aim a little higher than “has hair follicles” and “prison record clear,” big . . . bird or not. “I’ll take the coffee.”

There was a savvy glint in Mona’s eye as she pushed the order forward. “That’s what I thought.”

Once Mona’s back was turned, Katrina slipped a fifty-dollar bill out of her pocket and dropped it in the tip jar, burying it under the dollar bills Mona filled it with in the morning to stage the thing.

When Katrina was in her early teens and starting to model, her father had made her spend an hour every day in the living room, smiling. Constant, unceasing smiling. Different kinds of smiles, big smiles, small smiles, smiling with her eyes, smiling as she sat motionless, smiling while talking.

Yes, her dad had been quite the prince.

It had been the worst hour of her day. The only possible upside was that she was now excellent at smiling, even when her stomach was roiling in the throes of an impossible crush.

She balanced the tray and pasted a cheerful smile on her face as she made her way to the occupied table.