The Solid Grounds Coffee Company

by Carla Laureano

  Rachel looked like she wanted to argue more, but Melody’s posture said she just wanted to drop the subject. Ana jumped in. “Remind me what kind of flowers you selected, Rachel?”

  “Well, I’d picked roses and lilies, but that was before we had the farm setting. I mean, we’re going to be on a flower farm. Do you think Darcy would do my flowers?”

  “I think she would be delighted to do your bouquet and arrangements,” Ana said.

  Melody jumped in. “What about your deposit for the other florist?”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Ana said. “If we agree to do some business with them next year, I’m sure . . .” She broke off when she realized she no longer had any influence over what Massey-Coleman did. As far as the other publicists were concerned, she was all but fired. It was going to come as a huge surprise when she showed up in fifteen weeks and got back to work.

  “It’s okay,” Rachel said. “He can keep the deposit. It’s my fault that I made the change. I just think there’s a poetic symmetry about having the flowers done where the wedding is being held.”

  “Woo, poetic symmetry,” Melody said. “Someone’s getting all romantic.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes and got to her feet. “I should get out of this before I mess it up. You really like it?”

  “It’s gorgeous,” Ana said softly. “You make the most beautiful bride. Alex is going to feel like the luckiest man on earth.”

  Rachel repressed her smile, but happiness practically seeped from her pores, giving her the bride-to-be glow that countless cosmetic manufacturers attempted to bottle. “I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as Rachel left the room, Ana turned on Melody. “Okay, what’s up?”

  “Why would you say anything’s up?”

  Ana made a face. “Melody, I know when you’re hiding something. Those tears didn’t have anything to do with Rachel’s dress.” She sat down on the sofa next to her. “You can tell me. I won’t tell Rachel if you don’t want me to.” Then a thought hit her. “It isn’t Justin, is it?”

  “No! At least not in the way you think.” Melody glanced nervously toward Rachel’s bedroom and lowered her voice. “The charter isn’t doing so well in Florida.”

  Ana’s hand moved to her mouth. “Oh no. Justin’s dad isn’t working out?”

  Melody shook her head. “He’s great with the pilots, but not so much with the office staff. Monica quit, and she was the backbone of the company’s sales and marketing efforts. Justin is worried he’s going to need to go out there and get things in hand.”

  “Oh, Melody. What will you do?”

  “I don’t know. No, that’s not right. I do know. I love him, Ana. If he goes, I’m going with him.”

  “And you’d be leaving Bittersweet.”

  Melody nodded. “Neither of us want to leave. Justin loves his job at Mountain State, but he’d have a similar schedule and more freedom if he took the charter over. And Rachel and Alex can afford to buy me out.”

  Ana sat back on the sofa, feeling like the wind had been taken out of her. She already felt like she was losing Rachel to Alex. If Melody moved away, they’d be losing her for real. No more late-night dessert meetings. They could still have phone calls and out-of-control group texts, but it wasn’t the same as being here together.

  “On the upside,” Melody murmured, “Justin technically owns several planes. I could probably convince him to fly me here for a girls’ weekend every couple of months . . .”

  “Well, there is that.” Ana took herself in hand and hugged Melody hard. “You need to do what’s best for you and Justin. You may not be married yet, but we all know you’re going to get there.”

  “He’s already starting to get antsy,” she said. “And so am I.”

  “Get thee to a chapel, then,” Ana said with a laugh. Melody was a commitment girl at heart, and she was determined to make it to her wedding night before they slept together. But the heat between her and Justin was practically searing, so it couldn’t be easy, especially since they’d decided to date for a minimum of a year before they started talking about marriage. Which, by Ana’s calculations, was already up.

  And even that thought made Ana feel like a loser. She hadn’t met a guy who wanted to wait until the second date, let alone until marriage. Modern dating when you were a thirtysomething Christian woman was beginning to feel downright laughable.

  Rachel came back, dressed again in her jeans and T-shirt, and looked between them. “What did I miss?”

  “Nothing. Just trying to figure out a way to fix the bouquet toss so Melody can catch it.” Ana winked at Melody and moved back to her position in the chair, where her ice cream had melted into a pool over the brownie.

  “Is that a possibility?” Rachel asked. “Are you really talking about it?”

  “We’ve been talking about it,” Melody said. “But I don’t want to rush things.”

  “You’ve known each other over a year,” Rachel said. “That doesn’t sound like rushing things.”

  “And once more, the happily engaged wants everyone else to join in holy matrimony,” Melody said, sounding almost like she was quoting out of one of her books. “We need to get you married first. Now, I was thinking . . .”

  As Melody detailed more ideas for the wedding venue, Ana listened with half an ear, only contributing when a question was sent in her direction. It was impossible not to look at her two blissfully coupled friends and wonder, if they’d found love, why couldn’t she? What was so wrong with her that good men flew from her like mosquitoes from a citronella torch at a barbecue?

  No, she knew what. Her mother gave her a list of reasons every time she went home: too independent, too assertive, too opinionated. Too wealthy, even though she was more likely to call herself upwardly mobile. And next month, when she returned home alone for her father’s birthday, she would again prove everything they’d always thought about her was true.

  Chapter Twelve

  BRYAN SHOWED UP at the noodle place at ten minutes to seven, his laptop clutched under his arm, and proceeded to stake out the dining room until the corner booth he wanted was free. The place bustled, but they didn’t seem to mind people camping out there to work; most of the turnover was at the long communal counters, where customers slurped bowls of pho garnished with huge sprigs of Thai basil and bean sprouts, holding conversation above a noise level just short of a roar.

  It was the very reason he’d suggested the place. It was about as far from a date location as one could get, and the way Ana had balked at seeing him again made him think she still doubted his intentions in spending time with her.

  Maybe there was an element of truth in that, hence the more secluded corner table, but the larger reason was that they’d have to be able to communicate to get this presentation hammered out in time for their meeting.

  Finally, the trio sitting in the corner got up, and Bryan hovered just out of range until the busboy came to clear their plates and wipe down the table. Then he descended on the booth and booted up his laptop.

  “Hey, thanks for getting a seat. I thought we were going to have to wait.”

  Bryan lifted his head from his notes to find Ana standing there in jeans and a casual blazer, a tote bag slung over her shoulder. Tonight, she had her long black hair twisted up on her head with a clip, a few short tendrils falling free around her nearly makeup-free face. Without the war paint, she looked young and approachable. He figured he should take it as a good sign if she was letting him see her as she really was.

  “Can I sit down?” she prompted with an amused smile, and he hastily slid over to make room for her. “Have you ordered yet?”

  “No, I was waiting for you.” He pushed a paper menu her direction, but she didn’t open it.

  “I always get the same thing. Pho bò viên.”

  “I never pegged you as a meatball girl. I’m partial to the pho tái nam myself.” He grinned at her surprised look. “What?”

  She held up her hands. “Nothing. It’s jus
t that pho has been a thing forever where I grew up. It’s only recently gotten fashionable here. Denverites usually aren’t that familiar.”

  “I feel like you just called us provincial or something.” But he smiled so she knew he was kidding.

  The server came to their table and took their order, and then Ana reached into her bag for a tablet with an attached keyboard. “Do you want to show me what you’ve got so far?”

  Bryan nodded. So they were getting down to business. “Not very much, honestly. I’ve just pulled out what I think are our biggest selling points and differentiating factors from our competitors.”

  She leaned a little closer to see his laptop screen, giving him a whiff of an expensive perfume, a mix of florals that he couldn’t place. He settled back in his seat so he wouldn’t be tempted to inhale more deeply. He could only imagine what she would do if she caught him trying to sniff her.

  “I think this is a good start, actually. Why don’t we do this . . .”

  By the time their steaming bowls of noodle soup arrived at the table, they had the beginnings of an outline put together, pulling figures from his business plan and market-positioning details from Ana’s work. She’d apparently done a fair bit of research already; regardless of how this meeting turned out, she was proving her value. They paused and pushed back their laptops long enough to slurp soup from deep spoons and dig out long strands of rice noodles with chopsticks.

  Taking the usual flirtation out of their interactions meant that Bryan felt far more comfortable than he ever had around her. He liked her, he realized. She was smart, funny, had something to say on just about every topic, and she knew how to keep a conversation going naturally. Or maybe that was just because they had a lot more in common than he’d thought.

  “How did you ever get to the Philippines?” she asked when he revealed that he’d gone there about ten years ago.

  “A friend arranged the trip. You know climbers are always seeking out new routes and new locations. It was beautiful. There are some good climbs if you love limestone. I’ll admit I was happy to get back home to some granite after two weeks.”

  “Where exactly were you?”

  “Iloilo and then Cantabaco. That’s in the Visayas, right?”

  Ana nodded and reached for her water glass. “On different islands, but yeah. I have relatives there. My parents are both from Manila, but Mom has cousins in Toledo, which is close to Cantabaco.”

  “It’s gorgeous. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind going back just for a vacation. I’ve been to Hawaii, but the beaches in the Philippines just blow it out of the water. No pun intended.”

  Ana sent him a smile, clearly pleased by the praise of her parents’ homeland. “You could always go back to climb while you’re there.”

  He shook his head.

  “Why not? I don’t understand why you’re refusing to climb. It was more than half your life, Bryan. It’s not like you can just turn that part of yourself off.”

  “I can,” he said, “and I have. I’ve moved on. And I’m not really sure why you’re so fixated on it.”

  Ana held her hands up, looking a little offended. “Fine. I was just trying to help. I thought that’s what friends do.”

  Bryan cringed. The last thing he needed was to alienate her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Just, please, try to respect the fact I don’t want to talk about it.”

  She studied him for a long minute, then nodded. “Okay.” She began gathering up her things and shoved her tablet back in her shoulder bag. “I’ll email you my notes when I get home. You’re sure you’re comfortable with all of this?”

  “Of course,” he said, though he was nothing of the sort. “I’ll run through the deck a few times before the meeting.”

  “Just not too much. You don’t want it to sound canned.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Ana actually flushed. “I’m sorry. This is your business. You’ll do great.” She slid out of the booth and hovered uncertainly at the edge of the table. “Thanks for dinner.”

  “Thanks for the help.” He watched as she nodded, then turned on her heel and strode from the restaurant. Only then did he let the sigh escape his lips. Just when things got comfortable, he was back to feeling like he was walking on eggshells with her. They were friends, yes, but they weren’t close friends. Then again, maybe this was the way Ana showed concern; she had started some serious drama the first time Melody brought Justin to the supper club. Her motivation might have been worry for Melody, but she didn’t seem to know when to stop digging.

  He needed her to have full confidence in his ability to make this business a success, and to do that, he needed to project certainty. Neither she nor their potential investor needed to know that the last time he’d been absolutely sure about anything was twenty seconds before Vivian plummeted from that crag, ending both of their careers and everything he thought he’d known about his own future.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ANA WAS NERVOUS.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she was nervous, certainly not over business. Anxious, maybe; annoyed, frequently . . . but nervous was a new and entirely different sensation for her.

  Which made no sense. Over the last several days, she and Bryan had spent hours on the phone and their laptops, fine-tuning the details, making sure they were prepared for every single eventuality. And she couldn’t help but admit that he had a good handle on the presentation. He was smart—far more intelligent than she’d once given him credit for—and he was passionate. But she had still helped shape the pitch, tailoring it to what she knew of Adrian. It was one thing to stake her own career on her instincts. It was another to hinge Bryan’s second chance on them.

  Please, Jesus, make this go well. Don’t let me let Bryan down.

  She exhaled the prayer, pushed down her doubts, and sifted through her expansive closet, choosing and discarding half a dozen outfits before she settled on her go-to power combination again: black suit, red blouse, black pumps. It never steered her wrong, and she needed the confidence that came from a bold color and five-inch heels. Maybe it hadn’t done her any good the day she’d been fired—put on leave—but no outfit in the world could have changed the direction of that fiasco.

  Made-up, adorned with her solitaire necklace and her favorite diamond stud earrings, she grabbed her tote bag containing her laptop, notes, and a hard copy of Bryan’s presentation and made her way down to her car. Ten minutes later, she was pulling into the drive of the Shaws’ 1920s Capitol Hill mansion. He might not like living at home, but in a house this size, she’d bet he barely saw his parents.

  He must have been looking for her, because before she could even get out of the car, the front door opened and Bryan emerged. She did a double-take, her stomach doing an odd little leap. She’d legitimately never seen him in anything dressier than jeans and a sweater, and the other night at the club had been the first time she’d realized he owned anything more formal than T-shirts.

  Which was why she barely recognized the man coming toward her car, clean-shaven, the ponytail gone. He’d covered his trim physique in a stylish slim-cut suit in a dark pinstripe and paired it with a not-quite-conservative tie. When he pulled open the car door and climbed into the passenger seat, she got a glimpse of baby-blue socks decorated with scarf-wearing llamas above his dress shoes. Basically, about as on-trend for the millennial businessman as you could get.

  “What?” he asked, noticing her attention. “Do I look okay? Should I have worn something else?”

  “No,” she finally managed. “You look fine. Good, I mean.”

  He smoothed down his tie and let out a breath, and she realized he was as nervous as she was. “Thanks. If you hadn’t guessed, I don’t have much use for suits. I had to go shopping.”

  “The horror,” Ana quipped, and she caught his smile out of the corner of her eye as she started down the other side of the circular drive. “If it’s any consolation, you look perfect for this meeting. And you wear the
suit well; it doesn’t wear you.”

  “I’m not sure I understand what that means.”

  “You can put some guys in a suit, but they never carry themselves in a way that makes you believe they belong in it.”

  “Must have been all the practice I put in with my parents’ galas. I’ve been wearing a tux since I was nine.”

  “And you hated it?”

  “Not really.” He settled back into the seat. “Mostly I hated having to be on my best behavior. The tuxedo was just details.”

  Ana laughed. “You may know this since Adrian is your friend—”

  “Acquaintance.”

  Ana dipped her head. “Acquaintance. But he’s something of an aspiring mountaineer.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “He’s two peaks away from climbing all the fourteeners in Colorado. I found an interview with him in a local paper.”

  “That’s hiking, not climbing,” Bryan said automatically. When she shot him a look, he conceded, “But it is a point of common interest. I get it.”

  “He is also on the board of a charity that helps kids coming out of juvenile detention develop life and job skills.”

  Now she could hear a grudging bit of admiration in Bryan’s voice. “He’s not just a money-hungry suit, you’re telling me?”

  “I’m saying there’s something about this idea that will resonate with him and how he sees himself. Play to that, don’t say anything stupid, and I think we’ve got this in the bag.”

  “You know, Ana, I’m not completely socially inept.”

  She flushed. “I know you aren’t. But you have the habit of speaking your mind, and I just wanted to remind you—”

  “That this is not that time. Gotcha.” He reached for her and squeezed her forearm quickly. “Don’t worry. We’ve got this. I think you might be more nervous than I am.”

  “I think you’re right. I feel responsible for this meeting, so I really want it to work out.”