LEXI

“Here you are, my dear.” Sasha gingerly sets a tray of freshly baked sweets on the counter. “Ten cinnamon rolls, two dozen cookies, and three pies. Think that’ll hold you over for tomorrow?”

I’m at Minnie’s, and my friend Sasha, owner and baker extraordinaire of Sasha’s Sweets next door, has made her way over to the diner on her usual break. She has a sample of her wares on the counter, and is grinning at me.

I stop in the middle of pouring myself a cup of coffee and wander over to the tray, inhaling deeply as the scents of sugar and sweet wind their way up toward me. The cookies are still warm, fresh out of the oven, and I nab one straight off the platter.

“You’re supposed to sell those, you know.” Sasha eases onto the bar stool. Reaching across the counter, she swipes my cup of coffee and takes a sip. “What do you rate them?”

I close my eyes, take a bite, and savor the oozing warm chocolate.

“Stop making that face with those sounds, or people are going to get the wrong idea about your restaurant.” Kitty returns from the bathroom, just as I give Sasha my approval with a huge groan. “And while we’re on the subject, you should really think about getting laid. From something other than a cookie. Preferably someone, probably a man.”

“What about the one from the elevator?” Sasha asks. “I thought y’all were supposed to have a date, anyway.”

I shake my head, surveying my friends from my vantage point behind the counter. It’s a Monday morning exactly one month and one day since the elevator incident with Bradley Hamilton. I’ve gone over the play by play of that moment hundreds of times. I’ve explained it to Kitty and Sasha until they can tell the story better than me.

Kitty, as usual, has nowhere to be on a Monday morning. Hence the reason she invites herself down to the diner and pretends to work on inspiration for her next piece while downing cup after cup of coffee.

Not that I mind, seeing as Monday’s are pretty slow after ten thirty. Barb and the water aerobics team, consisting of ten women all over the age of ninety, swing by for a cup of coffee and doughnuts after their morning practice, but they clear out by ten-twenty-nine on the dot. The bridge club doesn’t come in for lunch until eleven thirty, so we have an hour in between when the diner is virtually dead.

Sasha Temple, my other best friend, does have somewhere to be on a Monday morning. However, it happens to be next door at Sasha’s Sweets. Sasha and I were born within a month of one another, and we’d bought adjoining stores within a week of each other. In some parallel universe, we were likely sisters.

Where some folks would’ve tried to compete—a sweet shop and a diner on the same block?—we made a friendly deal. I provide her with freshly made sandwiches every day while she brings over a few piping hot desserts. Usually, she’ll swing over for a cup of coffee when she brings the desserts and leave her assistant in charge.

“Yeah, I must have screwed something up,” I say, taking another bite of my cookie. “I’ve barely talked to him all month.”

“Have you seen him?” Kitty steals Sasha’s mug, which was formerly mine, and takes a sip. “Maybe he’s out of town.”

I grab two additional mugs from behind the counter and pour out enough coffee for all three of us. “Oh, I’ve seen him. We’ve made all sorts of awkward eye contact.”

Sasha looks at Kitty, who shrugs. “What does all sorts of awkward eye contact even mean?”

“You know.” I make a weird gesture with my hands. “Like we’ll both open our doors at the same time, and his eyes will meet mine. It’s weird.”

“Then what?” Kitty asks. “Most normal people would say hello and move along with their day.”

“I’m not a normal person.”

“Don’t tell me you slam the door shut and wait until he leaves.” Sasha eyes me over the batch of sweets. “C’mon, Lexi. The guy clearly has it bad for you; give him a little bone. You have to show him a tiny sign of friendliness.”

“No! Absolutely not. If he wanted to hang out with me, he could make good on the date I already agreed to. I’m waiting for him to call.”

“You live with him,” Kitty argues. “If you keep slamming the door in his face, the poor guy will never ask you out on a date. His little penis is probably shriveling up in fear at the mere thought of it. Boys are sensitive creatures underneath their tough exteriors.”

“It’s not little,” I say under my breath.

Both girls halt immediately. “What?”

My cheeks flush at the implication. “I mean, I’ve never seen it, but... I imagine it’s uh, plenty sizeable.”

Sasha giggles and looks over at Kitty. “Clearly she’s been thinking about it.”

“Daydreaming about Bradley,” Kitty agrees. “Was it good? You know, in your mind?”

“You guys are horrible!” I’m thoroughly embarrassed now, which is rare for me. Especially around Kitty and Sasha—we tell each other everything. And I mean everything.

“You’re not supposed to withhold from us!” Sasha cried. “You agreed!”

“Customers are here! Keep it down or you’ll scare them away,” I huff, storming around the edge of the bar to bring menus to two men in business suits who’ve wandered through the door looking a little lost. “Can I help you?” I ask them. “Table for two?”

“Yes, thank you. Preferably by the window.”

I lead the men to one of the best tables with a view of the Mississippi River. It’s obscured only slightly by the hustle and bustle of downtown St. Paul, and the ambiance is peaceful. In addition, I had gotten more than a little lucky with my lease. It’s cheap, my landlord is flexible, and the location is perfect.

“Hold on a minute,” the second man says. He’s probably in his forties, balding, and a little paunchy around the middle. “Are you...?”

I smile as he points to the picture of my face on the back of the menu. Rick put it there without my knowing, so days before we opened, it’d been a complete surprise when the menus arrived with a small photo and biography of Lexi Monroe at the bottom.

I hadn’t had the time or the money to change it and, thankfully, not many people notice. In an odd way, I had been flattered he’d cared so much to think of me.

“That’s me,” I say. “Lexi Monroe.”

The man nods as he scans over the menu. “So how long have you been in this space?”

“Just over three years. Got the lease four years ago or so, but it took some time to renovate.”

“Great, great,” he murmurs. “Any plans to expand?”

“Not in the near future. I’ve got a lot on my plate, and I enjoy keeping things small. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Coffee, please,” the first man says. The second nods in agreement.

“I’ll give you a minute to look over the menu,” I say with a bright smile. “Then I’ll send the server over. I highly recommend the chocolate chip waffles if you haven’t had them yet.”

“First time here,” the second man says. “We’ll try the waffles.”

“Both of you?”

The other man nods, having barely looked at the menu. “Sounds great.”

“Cookies are fresh, too,” I say. “Can I start you with one? I’ll have it come out with the coffee. Complimentary.”

“Can’t say no to that.”

I retrieve their menus and head back toward the bar. I begin preparing two cookies while Sasha and Kitty stare me down. I finally acknowledge them with a groan. “Why are you staring?”

“You huffed away all annoyed, and now you’re grabbing cookies,” Kitty says. “Binge eating is not the answer.”

“They’re for the customers.”

“Are you giving them away again?” Sasha sighs while Kitty shakes her head. “You know I don’t care what you do with the sweets, but you have to sell products to make money.”

“But they’re delicious, and everyone should try them.” I put the cookies on plates and napkins and pour out more coffees. “It’s their first time here; I have to make a good impression.”

“Right. Which is why you’re bringing food to the tables.” Kitty looks around the restaurant. “Don’t you have a server on the clock? Where is he?”

I haven’t actually seen Theo in over an hour. I’m fairly sure he went into the alley to take a phone call awhile ago and never came back.

“I enjoy doing it.” I stomp the tray back across the room and turn a smile on as I reach the customers. “Hope you two enjoy. They’re from Sasha’s Sweets next door. I also highly recommend them if you’re ever in need of a latte.”

“What’s the square footage of this joint?” The first man asks before I can turn back. “It’s way larger inside than outside lets on.”

“You know, I don’t remember off hand. But it’s just the right size for us.” I scan the picture laden walls, and the coziness of the chairs and tables tucked neatly in rows. “Enjoy the cookies.”

I’m a little confused as I march back to the bar. Never in three years have I been asked the square footage of my diner. Glancing around again, I take stock: there’s the bar, which hosts fourteen stools around the curved counter. Another twenty tables and booths line the outer windows and walls. I can fit six small tables outside on the sidewalk patio when the weather’s nice. It’s plenty big for us without being too large.

“Who do you think those guys are?” I lower my voice as I punch in an order for two sets of waffles. “They seem odd. Something is off about them.”

“How do you figure?” Sasha asks, peering into the mirror behind the bar to catch a better glimpse of them.

“The questions they’re asking. Plus, they didn’t even look at the menu.”

“Gasp,” Kitty says. “Maybe they knew what they wanted.”

“It’s their first time here.”

“Huh. Well, I can certainly find out for you.”

“What is she doing?” I ask Sasha as Kitty stands, preens, and heads to the bathroom.

Sasha shakes her head. “Working her magic.”

I poke my head into the kitchen to check on the waffles.

“Almost done,” Luis confirms.

He’s a mind reader, as well as an excellent chef. Without him, my business would be far more difficult to run. I manage cooking often enough on the stove behind the counter, but during the busy hours, it’s nice to have a helping hand.

I thank him, but before I can leave, he waves me over. “Where’s Theo? I haven’t seen him in an hour.”

“I’ll run the order this time,” I say. When Luis frowns, I add quickly. “Just this once. I promise I’ll talk to him after about his phone calls.”

“You always say you’ll talk to him after,” Sasha says as I return to the counter. “Yes, I’m allowed to eavesdrop if you discuss these things in front of me. Why haven’t you talked to Theo yet?”

I shrug. “I like running the food.”

“You’re his boss. You’re paying him,” Sasha says. “You can tell him to shape up and get his act together if he’s sitting on the phone for half of his shift.”

“But—”

“No buts!” Sasha raises her eyebrows. “Before Theo, it was Allison. Before Allison, it was Domino. Before Domino—”

“I get it,” I groan. “Why can’t I find someone as reliable as Callie?”

Sasha sighs. “Callie wasn’t always reliable. She came late to her first three shifts. I hired her as a freshman in college at Sasha’s, and now she’s the best employee ever, but it’s not an accident. I had to have a few talks with her.”

“Really? She seems so nice.”

“She is nice, but being nice has nothing to do with being a good employee—or at least, not all of it.” Sasha leans against the counter. “It’s a job, and these kids have to take it seriously. You’re a businesswoman. Sit down and talk to Theo. Stop doing his job for him. It’ll only benefit you both.”

“Fine!”

“Look, I know it’s difficult to make everything connect,” Sasha says. “This is a low margin business. I get it. I own the place next door, if you haven’t heard.”

I offer a reluctant smile, then lean against the counter. “Business has been quiet these last few weeks.”

Sasha gives a tense shake of her head. “I know. A few new coffee shops popped up downtown, and I’m feeling it, too. That’s all the more reason you can’t have dead weight hanging around. If Theo’s not doing his job, cut him loose.”

“I don’t want to fire Theo. He’s saving up to go on spring break.”

“Saving up by talking on the phone in the alley!”

“He and his girlfriend are having problems.”

“Tell them to have problems off the clock,” Sasha says. “You can’t keep breaking your back for people who aren’t working hard. Come on, girlfriend. I have confidence in you.”

“I know, but—”

“I’m not yelling at you,” she says, more gently. “I’m not trying to chastise you. I know you run a great business, and you care a lot. Maybe it’s just me being worried and frazzled, and I’m taking it out on you.”

“No. You’re right. We’re barely making rent as it is,” I confess. “I’ve been here almost twelve hours a day the last few weeks, and it’s wearing on me.”

“It sucks.”

“Yeah. I’m trying to find a way to bring customers back. I’ve tried specials and deals, weekly treats, everything. I’m running out of ideas.”

“If I knew, I’d tell you. The only thing keeping us afloat is a cheaper lease and low overhead. It’s just me and Callie. You have Rick, Theo, the janitors, the... I don’t even know.”

“Well, we’ve gotta figure out something. Otherwise, Minnie’s will get... even more mini. Until it disappears.”

“Don’t say that.” Sasha reaches across the counter and squeezes my hand. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“Waffles are ready,” Luis calls from the stove. “Get ‘em while they’re hot.”

I reach for the proffered tray, ignoring Luis as he mouths Theo to me over and over again. Instead, I make my way across the room and check on the two businessmen who’ve taken out phones and appear to be studying them in great detail.

“Waffles are ready. How’d you like the cookies?” I set the plates on the table. The cookies are gone and their coffees are halfway empty.

“Delicious,” the first man says. “Finished the thing in one bite.”

“I’ll take a refill,” the second man says. “Best coffee I’ve had in a long while.”

I grab the carafe, return to the table, and top both of their mugs off. “Did you two say what brings you in here today?”

“A friend recommended it,” the second man says.

“A good one,” the first man agrees. “We’ll most certainly be back.”

It’s at this moment that Kitty returns from the bathroom, sidling up next to me at the table. “Hello, gentlemen,” she purrs in a French accent. “Those waffles look incredible. Mind if I join you for un caffé?”

Somehow, Kitty has transformed. She showed up here in a boho-chic skirt, a tank top, and sandals that complimented the beautiful spring day outside. While in the bathroom, she’d added red lipstick, mascara, and a French accent to make her a stunning seductress.

I roll my eyes and leave her to her work, returning to Sasha at the counter.

“She’s nuts,” Sasha says as I grab Kitty’s mug of coffee. “Which accent did she choose this time?”

“French. How does she do it?”

The men at the table, whoever they are, have gone gaga over her. They’ve even argued over which side of the table had more room so that Kitty wouldn’t feel constricted as she joined them.

I drop off the coffee and back away silently. Kitty doesn’t even look up, listening raptly to whatever the man is saying. It sounds boring, business-like, and I’m willing to bet that Kitty’s ripping her hair out on the inside. There’s nothing she hates more than dull conversation.

I stand at the counter with Sasha as Kitty daintily adds cream to her coffee, then drops a sugar cube straight onto her tongue.

“That girl is something else,” Sasha says. “If Kitty gave up being an artist and decided to pursue acting, she’d be famous in a second.”

“Yet she would still want to paint,” I say. “Go figure. Better that way, though, otherwise she’d move to Hollywood and leave us small people behind.”

Sasha snorts with laughter. “She looks like she’s about to die.”

“I’m getting the vibe they’re not regaling her with lovely and interesting tales about their travels around the world.” I tap my fingers against the counter. “I give her five minutes.”

“Three,” Sasha says. “What are we betting?”

“If I win, I want a dozen cookies for personal use.”

Sasha nods. “If I win, you’re coming over this Friday and fixing waffles for ladies’ night.”

“Am I invited to ladies’ night even if I win?”

“This is your invitation,” she says with a wink. “Bring Kitty as your plus one.”

“My last ladies’ night with Kitty didn’t go well,” I say. “We tried to knit.”

Sasha scrunches up her nose. “I express my craftiness through baking. My ladies’ nights are for movies, wine, and food.”

“Deal.” I shake her hand, but we’re not even finished with the shake when Kitty returns to the table. I glance at Sasha. “Neither of us win. That couldn’t have been more than a minute. What happens now?”

“Were you betting on me again?” Kitty frowns over us. “I told you not to underestimate me. What were the guesses?”

“Three minutes,” Sasha said quickly. “But Lexi guessed five.”

“Five minutes of conversation with them, and I would’ve killed myself,” Kitty says with a dramatic flourish. “They’re in real estate. How boring.”

“Real estate?” A chill goes down my spine. “Why were they asking all sorts of questions about my space?”

“Don’t worry, they had a client that’s looking to expand their business. They were considering this space, but I convinced them it’s utterly horrible,” Kitty says. “Broken pipes, weird smells, homeless people outside.”

“None of that’s true,” I say. “Except the homeless people, sometimes. And the weird smell was from the one time Theo forgot an egg in his backpack.”

“I don’t want to know,” Kitty says, raising a hand. “I did my job, and now you have nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about?!” I look at Sasha. “What if Chris is looking to sell?”

“He is getting old,” Sasha says. “Do you think he’d do that?”

“What would happen to us?” I blink, panic sliding into my stomach. “They could shut us down. Not right away, but eventually.”

“Aren’t there laws about that?” Kitty asks. “Can they really just kick you out?”

“I’m sure there are ways,” I say. “Chris cut us a great deal, and now we’re locked in. If the new owner wants to bump the rent up even a little...”

Sasha’s knuckles tighten around her cup of coffee. “We don’t know that’s what they’re doing for sure. Maybe they were trying to impress Kitty.”

Kitty sprawls on the stool. “They’re still in the research phase, no offers yet. I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”

“Famous last words,” I say. “I’ll call Chris tonight and find out. Right now, I have to locate Theo.”

“Don’t stress,” Sasha says, eyeing me with concern. “It’ll all work out. It always does.”

I nod while I print out the bill for the two real estate men. I bring it to the table and drop it off. “Thanks for stopping in today.”

One of them hands over his credit card, offering me a polite smile. “The waffles were delicious. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again, Miss Monroe.”

If it’d been anyone else, I would’ve been thrilled to have a repeat customer. But this time, somehow, the words ring with a hint of foreboding. I run the credit card, drop off the bill for a signature, and storm out to the alley behind the diner.

“Theo!” I call. “Break’s over!”

The twenty-something college student looks up with a guilty expression, murmurs a good bye, then snaps his phone shut. “Sorry about that, I had an, uh, issue with...”

“Right,” I say, interrupting him. “I like you a lot, Theo, but some things are going to change if you want to keep working here. No more hour-long phone calls, please. I don’t want to be the mean boss, but I need your help inside.”

“Okay.” He moves sheepishly past me. “Sorry, boss.”

“Great!” I throw my hands up and move to the front of the counter where I rejoin Kitty and Sasha. “Now I feel like a cranky asshole boss, I have a twitchy eyelid, and I’ve eaten three cookies this morning.”

“Sounds like you need a way to let off steam,” Sasha says with a sly look at Kitty. “I know one way to do that.”

“Knock on his door,” Kitty says. “Wear your sexiest robe and ask Bradley Hamilton to help you blow off some steam.”

“I’m not having sex with my neighbor and best friend as stress relief,” I say. Then correct myself. “Former best friend.”

“Fine.” Sasha stands to leave, taking the coffee mug with her. “Then die young from chronic stress.”

“There’s got to be another way. What do normal people do?”

Kitty stands to leave, too. “You know our solution. I’m telling you—you need endorphins.”

I sigh, exhale an expletive, and get back to work. There’s got to be a way to burn off stress that doesn’t involve getting naked. Not that I’m opposed to getting naked with the right person, but Bradley Hamilton is all sorts of wrong for me.

If he’d been right, we’d already have gone on a date together. He wouldn’t have waited a month to ask me out; he would’ve called me the next day. It’s been a month and a day, and now I’m the desperate one counting the hours.

Suddenly, I’m angry at him. Angry at Bradley for making me wait. For getting my hopes up, and then ruining me all over again. Is that what this whole thing was about? Him getting some sort of twisted revenge on me?

“Luis, I’m leaving for lunch,” I tell him. “Rick should be in any minute. I’ll be back in an hour.”

I stomp out of the diner.

“Where are you going?” Sasha calls after me from her shop.

Kitty has meandered over to the sweet shop, and is now sneaking a latte from Sasha’s counter.

“Bradley freaking Hamilton,” I yell over my shoulder. “The man’s gonna answer a few of my questions.”

“You’re not thinking straight,” Kitty says. “Maybe wait until you’ve calmed down?”

I turn, unlock my car, and climb into the front seat. “Actually, this can’t wait.”