Take Three (The Jilted Bride #2)(28)

She was going against company policy by taking merchandise out of the store, but I couldn’t say anything without arousing suspicion.

She handed me another stack of flyers and I cleared my throat. “Didn’t you already promote things at your grand opening three months ago? Isn’t it a bit unethical to take our products and warmers to a football game?”

She clutched her chest as if she’d just been shot. “We never had a real grand opening. Corporate thought they could open up a business here and people would just fly in. It might work that way up north, but this is the South. You have to prove you can be trusted down here, and you have to earn that trust.

“What better way to earn trust than to offer your products at local events? Like football games? No other coffee shop here does that, so when it gets cold outside and the game is dragging on and on and the fans don’t want to go home, they’ll all be clamoring for a cup of our hot chocolate or one of our creamy deluxe coffees.”

That’s actually a really great idea…

She looked at her name tag then looked at mine. “Yep, mine still says manager and yours stills says barista. Keep questioning my actions and yours will say unemployed.”

I held back a laugh. “I’m sorry Lola.”

“It’s okay! Every coffee bean wants to be a part of the coffee! It takes time to get grounded though, give it some time.”

After selling every ounce of coffee we’d brought to the football game, Lola agreed to let the team go home if we promised to come in an hour early the next day.

I untied my apron and sighed. I was still upset about Selena canceling our date. No matter how hard I tried to let it go, I couldn’t.

I called to indefinitely cancel the flight for the chef and his team and headed to Sweet Seasons. I wanted to know about those so-called “things” she was going through.

I’d been sitting at the coffee counter for five minutes when an older woman, who looked very much like Selena, handed me a menu.

“You back for more pie?” she smiled.

“No...Not today,” I stopped and took a long look at her.

She was the spitting image of Selena: From her small button nose, to her deep gray eyes, to the very heart shape of her face.

I would’ve thought she was Selena’s mother if I didn’t know any better, but I knew that was impossible. My intern’s report said Selena’s family lived in Texas, so I shook it off as an eerie coincidence.

“Um,” I cleared my throat. “I’m looking for a particular waitress that works here…Silky black hair, pretty gray eyes, really beautiful. She’s got—”

“Selena?”

“Yeah,” I tried to sound nonchalant.

“Oh. She was off today, darling.”

“Does she work tomorrow?”

“Is she in some type of trouble?” she looked concerned.

“No. I just need to talk to her about something…something kind of important.”

“I see,” she smiled. “Well, I can’t give you her work schedule, hun. I’m sure you’ll run into her again at some point.”

“Right. Well, thank you very much,” I stood and pushed my stool back up to the counter. “Are there any good bars around here?”

Chapter 13

Selena

My coworker handed me a napkin before dropping me off at my hotel. I unfolded it and saw another handwritten note from Ethan: “If I attempted to sue you for potential third degree burns would that make you talk to me? Can I call you? I really want to talk to you…PS—You looked really pretty yesterday…”

I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to reject his advances. Every time I saw him my heart did a cartwheel, and no matter how hard I tried to act unaffected, I failed miserably. I felt like some of the women in the movies I played, the ones who were left speechless and flustered by a mere wink from the male lead.

What’s more was that Ethan pursued me without even being around: Every morning there was a new white and fluffy teddy bear wearing a golden “Looking forward to that some other time date with you” necklace waiting for me. He even waited for me to get off work some nights, offering to give me a ride home, but I turned him down and slipped into Joan’s car each time.

Although each gesture was sweet, I was becoming skeptical of him. I wasn’t sure if he was some undercover reporter trying to get me to talk, and I still couldn’t believe he’d never heard of me before.

I unlocked the door to my hotel suite and saw Joan typing away at the desk.

“Joan?”

“Yes?” she looked up at me.

“I know this may sound crazy, but could you fly to New York and get me some more clothes? They can be a mix of casual and couture. I have a contact at—”

“Burberry, Chanel, and Neiman Marcus. I sent for some outfits yesterday,” she closed her laptop. “They should be here tomorrow morning.”

Either she’s really that good or I’ve never had a good personal assistant…

She sighed. “Anyway, I’ve got some good news and some bad news. What do you want to hear first?”

“The good news…” I shut the door and sat on the couch.

“Okay. The screenplay you submitted to Universal Studios three years ago was green lit this morning. You have a meeting with the directors in February, so congratulations! Also, Matt wanted me to give you this,” she handed me a small beige envelope.