Chapter Twenty-five

Opening Grounds N’at Friday morning was both the same and utterly different for Brian. Everything had changed. His priorities, his plans, his life. He hadn’t lied to Rob—he’d close the shop if it got between him and Rob again, but he hoped he could work something out with Sam. Maybe Justin could make magic a second time.

Brian pulled down the sign he’d taped to the door. A couple years ago, he’d have balked at asking for help, but now? Having a business plan—a real one—would be a good thing, especially if it meant a future that wasn’t more of the past: Failed relationships. Stress. Heartache.

As he went through the motions of preparing to open, he realized Beth had closed the shop perfectly on Wednesday. Counters, tables, and machines gleamed. All the supplies neat and organized. She’d done a great job. He’d have to thank her for that. And give her that key on a more permanent basis.

For the first time in ages, he wasn’t anxious, stressed, or exhausted, despite the physicality of the sex he’d had with Rob, both yesterday and this morning.

That hammered home how much he’d needed a break from Grounds N’at, and how much he’d needed to make things right in his life.

Whatever happened—shop open or closed—he’d survive. Thrive.

Just before eight, he unlocked the door. As normal, one of the first people to walk through the door was Sam, who looked distinctly relieved. “Good morning.” There was a question hidden between those two words.

“Morning, Sam. The usual?”

Sam nodded and fiddled with the cuff of his shirt.

While Brian worked on a cappuccino, Sam asked what had been written on his face. “You doing okay?”

He finished frothing milk and poured the top onto Sam’s drink. “I am now. But I wasn’t yesterday—and I still have some things to work out.”

Sam nodded, a furrow between his brow. “If there’s anything I can do to help . . .”

Well if that wasn’t an opening. “Um, actually . . .” He handed over Sam’s coffee and took his card. No one else had come in yet, which was both good and bad. “I was wondering how I’d go about hiring you guys for some consulting. I need advice or a new business plan.” He gestured to the shop. “It’s not been going all that great lately.”

The line between his brows deepened. “I—we don’t—”

The bell on the door rang and Sam’s face smoothed over, but the customers that entered were two more familiar faces from upstairs—Eli and Justin.

At least he hadn’t chased away all of his regulars. A spike of pain, but he quelled that. Hopefully he’d fix the situation.

The first words out of Justin’s mouth were, “Dude, what happened? Are you okay?”

Sam turned sideways and glanced at Justin—then faced Brian, his focus laser sharp. “Oh, I see.” A sly smile. “Yes, maybe we can help. Are you free this afternoon?”

Brian nodded. “Miranda has the evening shift.” He rang up the sale. The confusion that had been on Sam transferred to Justin. Eli stood back in his usual thinking pose—hands on his cane. He met Brian’s gaze and nodded, but didn’t say a word.

“Stop up at three, and let’s talk.” Sam picked up his coffee and took his card back.

“Will do.”

Sam saluted him, and headed for the door. Justin took his place, with Eli a step behind. “Okay, what’s going on?” This was the no-nonsense Justin. Same one who’d pulled him into the back room.

He answered Justin’s first question. “I’m fine. I took your advice and talked to Rob.” He paused. “Two shot caramel latte and an Americano with room for cream?”

Justin swept his fuchsia bangs from his eyes. “And that?” He pointed at the path Sam had taken.

“A cappuccino.” He smiled as sweetly as he could.

In a strange reversal, it was Eli who laughed loud and long. He placed a hand against Justin’s back and slid up next to him. “You deserved that.” He grinned at Brian. “And yes. The usual. And the caramel latte will be fine for him.”

Justin didn’t look pleased. “I like knowing what’s going on.”

“Of course you do. I do as well.” He tugged at some part of Justin’s clothing—maybe a belt loop and pulled Justin closer to him. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

Brian hid his amusement by turning away to start their drinks. “I’m sure Sam will explain.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Eli’s voice.

Justin inhaled in a way that was too familiar from his own breathlessness with Rob.

He didn’t even bother to turn around. “Family establishment, gentlemen.”

Another chuckle from Eli. “I’m not doing anything untoward.”

He frothed the milk for Justin’s drink, and finished both off. Despite Eli’s remark, Justin was blushing furiously when Brian turned around and placed the drinks on the counter.

Still, he gave a sheepish shrug. “He’s telling the truth.” He picked up both drinks while Eli handed over his credit card.

Brian snorted and rang them up. “See you at three.”

As they wandered out of the shop, Brian leaned back against the counter and took out his phone. His frantic texts to Rob from the previous day were still there. Well, at least that was in the past—and remained a caution for the future. He typed out a new text.

Spoke to Sam. We’re talking at 3. I think this might work. The look in Sam when Justin had walked in—Brian was sure Sam already understood what Brian needed and wanted. But then, Sam was a master of his business.

His phone buzzed. Two texts in rapid succession. The block must be off.

Good to hear.

How are you doing otherwise?

Brian glanced up, but no one else looked like they might walk into his shop.

Doing better than I have in a long time. Thank you. For yesterday. For everything.

He had hope and that was something he’d been lacking for a long time—since before he’d met Rob, if he were being honest with himself.

Someday, he ought to apologize to Anita for being such a shit. They’d not been right for each other, but he hadn’t really handled it well, in retrospect.

You’re welcome. A simple reply. Brian could almost hear Rob’s voice.

He typed rapidly on the phone. I love you, you know.

I do know. And I you.

The bell on the door rang. Customers.

Take good care of them.

He nodded and shoved the phone into his pocket. Back to basics. He pushed off the counter, and the smile came naturally. “Hi, what can I get started for you?”

***

A little after three o’clock, Brian found himself sitting in a chair in Sam Anderson’s office. Justin sat next to him and Sam across the desk. He’d never felt more out of place in his life.

Despite Justin’s t-shirt, jeans, and bright pink hair tips, the way he sat spoke of business and an edge he’d not seen in the coffee shop. This was as much Justin’s domain as Sam’s.

“So,” Sam said, “you’re looking for a business plan.”

No surprise in Justin. Likely he had talked to Sam.

“Or something.” Brian fiddled with the edge of his shirt. “The margins have always been tight, but now they’re gone and I can’t turn things around.”

“And you’re stressing yourself—and everyone else—out trying.” Soft words from Justin.

He didn’t even flinch. “Pretty much.” He leaned back. “I can’t keep doing what I’m doing.”

Sam tented his hands. “Plus, you have more reasons not to be at the shop all the damn time.”

His cheeks heated. “There’s that, too.” He paused. “So how does this work?”

Sam flattened his hands against his desk. “We’re going to figure that out.”

“I have some ideas.” Justin grinned.

Forty-five minutes later, Brian rubbed his temples and stared at his former barista. Even back when he’d hired Justin, he’d seen his penchant for business—after all, he’d been an MBA student. But now? “This is—something else.”

“Well,” Justin said, “you wanted a plan.”

“Or something,” Sam said. For all the world, it looked as if Sam were trying not to grin from ear to ear. “Good work, J.”

Sketched out on a pad in front of Justin were notes and suggestions, most of which had poured out of him. Ways to study Brian’s business, his competition. What was trending in shops around the country. “I think you already have most of the pieces,” Justin had said. “Just add a few, file down the rough spots, and put them all together.”

Ambitious. Crazy. Wonderful. There was only one small problem. “You guys must charge a fortune for this kind of thing.”

Sam nodded. “We do.”

Brian’s heart sank. “Shit.”

Sam waved the curse away. “This isn’t a normal situation. You’re not high-tech, you’re tiny, and you’re our neighbor.”

“I make you a damn fine cup of coffee.”

Sam laughed. “You make me an exceptionally fine cup of coffee. And I stole away your best employee.”

Justin shifted in his seat. “Hey, I applied to you.”

Sam’s lips twitched upward, but he ignored Justin. “Plus, someone’s been pestering me for a project of his own.”

“Pestering is a strong word,” Justin said. “I’ve been asking politely.”

This time, Sam couldn’t contain the grin. “This seems like the perfect opportunity.”

“This has to cost me something.” Sam might be a fantastic customer and a decent guy, but he was also a smart businessman. You didn’t give everything away for free.

“How about a year’s worth of your exceptional coffee for all of my employees?”

Brian’s breath caught. He let it out slowly. Because that much free coffee did add up to a decent sum. Doubtless, it was far, far, far less than what Sam normally charged.

“No blender drinks,” Justin said.

Sam lifted an eyebrow. “Whose side are you on?”

“Both.” Justin crossed one leg over the other. “I want this to succeed. Do you have any idea how much of a pain in the ass those drinks are? You’ll kill morale.”

Brian chuckled. “It’s true. Customers love them, but they’re the worst.”

Sam held up his hand. “Fine. Done.” He paused. “Well, done if you accept.”

“You’re not planning on hiring twenty people or something? Right?”

Sam laughed. “No. We’re at the size we’re going to be for a while.”

Seven people. An entire year. “Three-drink-a-day limit?”

“Four.” There was a gleam in Sam’s eye. “I think that’s fair.”

Justin was quiet. On both sides, indeed.

Brian did a quick calculation in his head—probably similar to the one Sam had done in his. A tidy sum, both a nice bonus for his employees and a price for Brian. It would be neatly spread out over the year and, if Justin’s plan worked, well worth the cost. He nodded. “Okay.”

Both men relaxed and Justin uncrossed his legs. “Eli’s going to have kittens with the accounting on that contract.”

“Eh, Eli needs a challenge.” Sam looked downright gleeful.

“Please don’t make Eli cranky with me. His is usually the easiest damn drink in the world.”

“Oh,” Justin said, “leave Eli to me.”

Sam chuckled, but focused on Brian. “I’ll have more formal paperwork drawn up, but do we have a deal?”

“Yes.” He held out his hand, and they shook over Sam’s desk. Brian turned to Justin. “It’ll be good working with you again.”

“You say that now.” Justin leaned back in his chair. “I should warn you that I’ve become a pain in the ass.”

He’d take that if it meant Grounds N’at surviving. “Apparently that’s what I need.”

Sam rose, and they all followed suit. “I’ll stop by in a few days with the paperwork.”

Justin saw him to the front door. When they passed into the reception area, he spoke. “This isn’t going to be a cakewalk, you know.”

“It hasn’t been so far.” He faced Justin. “And I’m not exactly looking forward to you picking apart everything I do. But, it’s necessary. I’m too close.”

The grin was gone, replaced with thoughtfulness. “Good.” A pause. “Um. You and Rob? Things are better?”

He exhaled. “Yeah. I mean, I still have a lot of work to do there, too. But yeah.”

“Good.” He clapped Brian on the shoulder. “We’ll make this work.”

Words Brian believed. He gave Justin a grin, then headed back down to the coffee shop.

As soon as he walked through the door, he stopped in his tracks. Miranda was laughing with a customer sitting at the counter, one in a business suit and sporting a very familiar head of ginger hair.

Not even five yet. Warmth from his head to his toes. Miranda met his gaze. “And here’s your man now.”

Rob turned and his smile was summer and light. Oh yeah—he was Rob’s entirely. Somehow, he crossed the distance on feet made of air and sat down next to Rob. “You’re off early.”

“The boss likes me.”

Damn those eyes and dimples and . . . “My boss is an ass.”

Rob slid a hand up Brian’s thigh. “Only sometimes.”

God. He really didn’t need a raging hard-on in his own store. Brian laced his fingers between Rob’s and drew Rob’s hand back down to his knee. “Family establishment,” he murmured.

There was Rob’s pretty blush. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “So, how’d it go?”

“Good. Really good.” But he didn’t want to talk about plans to save Grounds N’at while sitting in the shop. “How about I tell you over dinner?”

“How about I cook you dinner and you tell me?”

Miranda laughed. “You two are adorable. Get out of here.”

They didn’t have to be told twice. Once outside, Brian pulled Rob close and kissed him. “I’m glad your boss likes you.”

Rob laughed against Brian’s lips. “Thing is, he’s got a horrible crush on you and wants to make sure you’re fed, de-stressed, and really well fucked.”

Brian shivered. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Same.” Rob stole another kiss. “My brilliant Americano.”

He didn’t quite believe that—but Rob had been right about everything else, so he let it go.

Sometimes, you had to take a chance.