The Solid Grounds Coffee Company

by Carla Laureano

  How long had it been since she’d actually felt happy? Excited? Content? She took pride in her work, she thrived on the stress and the pressure, but it was a hard-edged satisfaction. Right now, she just wanted to wrap herself in this cozy feeling and never leave it.

  Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a matter of being able to fall in love with a guy like him. Maybe she was already there.

  “Movie,” he whispered, kissing the tip of her nose. “If you don’t pick one, I’m going to choose some ridiculous foreign film just to show off.”

  “I forgot, you speak Spanish,” Ana said. “Do you speak anything else?”

  “A little French from school, a little more Portuguese, but Spanish more than anything. I was conversant before I spent all that time in Colombia, but I think I can call myself fluent now.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “You’re bilingual too. You speak Filipino, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. Taglish mostly.” At his quizzical look, she said, “Tagalog plus English. I could speak it straight if I had to, but no one really does. It’s all a mix of Tagalog and English and Spanish in my family.”

  “What are they like?” he asked curiously as they moved to her living room sofa and plopped together on the end of the sectional.

  “They are . . . a lot.”

  “Meaning . . .”

  “Loud, enthusiastic. They’ll tell you exactly what they think, no holds barred.”

  “So basically exactly like you?”

  Ana smacked him on the shoulder. “Thanks.” She shook her hand. “I need to stop doing that. That hurt.”

  He laughed and pulled her to him, then took the remote from her hand. “Since you haven’t picked anything, I’m going to choose.”

  “Nope, my house, my remote. I get to choose.” She stole it back from him, then paused. “I know what I want to watch, but you’re not going to like it.”

  “I’m not that picky.”

  “You promise you won’t be mad?”

  He frowned. “Why would I be mad because you picked a bad movie?”

  Ana didn’t say anything, just surfed through the documentary section until she found what she was looking for. She knew it was in here, because she’d seen the Netflix listing when she googled Bryan. She swallowed hard and clicked it, tensed for Bryan’s reaction.

  The main title came up: On the Edge, with a still image of a climber clinging to the edge of a granite slab.

  Bryan stiffened beside her, the tension radiating through his body. “Ana . . .”

  “Please?” she said quietly. “I know you said you’ve given it up, but it’s a big part of you still. I want to understand. With you here to explain it to me.”

  He looked down at her, the conflict evident in his face. “That’s really how you want to spend our evening?”

  “Yes.” She shot him a mischievous look. “Climbers are sexy.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, then. When you put it that way . . .”

  She settled back against him and twined her fingers together between her knees, squeezing hard. The documentary followed five climbers, including Bryan, through various parts of their season. Ana found herself glued to the screen, fascinated by the technical details and interviews, cringing at the heights and the falls. Gradually, Bryan relaxed next to her, seemingly caught up in watching it until it came to his segment. The tension instantly radiated through him.

  The female interviewer asked, “What would you do if you couldn’t climb anymore?”

  A younger Bryan laughed at the question, then looked into the distance as he considered. “I don’t know. I really can’t envision a life for myself that doesn’t involve climbing.”

  Bryan reached for the remote and clicked the TV off, sitting there stiffly in silence.

  “Bryan?”

  He licked his lips but didn’t respond, almost like he was listening to something beyond himself.

  “Do you miss it?”

  He twisted to look at her, whatever spell he’d been under broken. “Yeah. I miss it. Every day.”

  “Then why don’t you still do it?” Ana asked softly. “I don’t believe that setting hand or foot on a rock is going to turn you back into the person you were. You need to have more faith in what God has done with you, how you’ve changed, than that.”

  “It’s not just that,” he said, his voice hoarse. “It’s . . . everything in that part of my life, from this documentary on . . .”

  “Please. Just tell me.”

  He paused as if he were trying to think of where to start. “You should know the woman asking the questions in that video was Vivian, my ex-girlfriend.”

  That was the last thing she’d expected Bryan to say. “The ex-girlfriend?”

  “You’ve heard about that, I see,” he said wryly.

  “No, not really. I just heard that the last time you disappeared, it was because of a woman. So I assumed.”

  “That was her. We met on this shoot and really hit it off. She’s a climber too, by the way, or she was, before . . .” He gestured vaguely. “It doesn’t matter. Suffice it to say that I fell for her hard, like I’d never fallen for anyone. We were together for a couple of years. And then I asked her to marry me.”

  “What happened?” Ana asked, even though she could already guess the answer.

  “She said no.” He shrugged. “Said that she never knew I was that serious about her and she wasn’t ready to settle down. She was taking a job in California, and I was still based in Colorado. I would have moved for her, but she didn’t want me to.”

  Ana took a moment for a slow inhale, considering her words. “I’m sorry. That must have been crushing.”

  He glanced at her, a wry look in his eyes. Maybe a little bitter. “It was. And I tried to get over her, but I think you know how I managed that. I was just thinking maybe I’d moved on when she showed up in Colombia, looking for me.”

  A stab of jealousy shot through her. His ex, his true love, had come back to him in Colombia? Was that why he’d stayed away?

  He laughed harshly when she voiced those thoughts. “Not exactly. It turned out she just needed to get me out of her system. Before she got married. To my sponsor.”

  Ana’s jaw dropped open. “You’re kidding me.”

  “Nope. And when he found out that she’d come to see me, he figured that I’d been the one to lure her there or something. So he fired me. Canceled my sponsorship contract under some sort of buried exclusivity clause. He’d known I had a sponsorship from another gear manufacturer, but his approval wasn’t in writing. I didn’t have a legal leg to stand on.” He laughed. “Ironic that he fired me over an exclusivity clause. He should have had one with his fiancée.”

  Ana stared at him, digesting that crusher. He’d barely gotten over the woman and she’d what, dangled herself in front of him? And then told him she was getting married?

  “I’m . . . sorry. That’s inadequate, I know. It’s horrible. And just . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Yeah, it was pretty awful. I got the job offer in Colombia, acted as a translator for a while, did some physical labor to keep my mind off it, and ended up buying a farm. Life’s weird.”

  “Do you still love her?” She hated how insecure and needy her words came out.

  He flicked his gaze to her, obviously surprised. “No. I would never have started this if I still had feelings for her.”

  “You had feelings for her the whole time you were dating a lot of other women before,” she whispered.

  “I wouldn’t call those relationships.” Regret tinged his soft tone. “What happened in Suesca . . . that pretty much killed any love I might have had left. She was using me, knowing how I felt about her, and that’s just not something I could ever forget.”

  Ana must not have looked convinced, because he twisted on the sofa to face her fully. “Listen, I’m just going to lay it all on the table here, Ana. I’m crazy about you. I have been since I met you, but I could
never get you to see I was more than a dumb climber.”

  She flushed. “I never thought—”

  “Yes, you did. And that’s okay. Because honestly, you wouldn’t have wanted to be with the man I was back then.”

  She shifted around, the question she’d wanted to ask for a while rising to the surface. “What happened in Colombia, exactly? I mean, I understand about Vivian now, but . . . what changed?”

  “My come-to-Jesus moment, you mean? Literally?”

  She nodded.

  He settled back against the cushion and let out a long breath. “It wasn’t one big dramatic thing. It was the process of stepping out of my life, I guess. Getting some distance. When I didn’t have all the distractions of the city—the clubs, the women, even my climbing—I realized that there wasn’t very much to me. God took the opportunity to show me how empty I truly was, how the things I was holding on to really didn’t matter in the grander scheme.” He gave a self-conscious shrug. “I know that probably sounds foreign to someone like you.”

  Ana broke the eye contact, feeling suddenly horrible. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”

  “Why not? It’s true.”

  She laughed helplessly and ran her fingers through her hair. “You seem to think I’m this paragon of Christian living, and I’m not. I can barely manage to crack my Bible, and I haven’t been to Mass in like a month, even though I let my mom still think I’m going . . .”

  Bryan smiled, but it had a sympathetic cast. “Faith isn’t supposed to be a to-do list, Ana. Trust me, I had to come to grips with that myself.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Where’s this all coming from?”

  For a split second, she wanted to tell him, let all the things come pouring out that no one knew, not even her friends. But fear took the upper hand and she shoved the words back.

  “Nothing. Sorry. I’m just dreading this trip back home. Every time I go back, all I hear from my parents is about how I’ve thrown away my youth on this horrible job when I should be getting married and having their grandkids. Don’t get me wrong—I love my family; they just . . . don’t understand.”

  Bryan stayed quiet for a long moment. “Then let me go with you.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “I’ll come. I’m your boyfriend, after all. Or at least I want to be.” He smiled again, and her heart stuttered at the way he was looking at her. “That should get the relatives off your back for a while.”

  “You don’t want to do that. For one thing, you won’t understand anything anyone is saying . . .”

  “You already said they speak Taglish. I can figure it out from the English and Spanish.”

  “And for another, we’re going to get asked about the wedding date at least two times before we leave, if not more. I don’t bring guys home.”

  “Ever?”

  “Never ever. Because like I said, they’re a lot.”

  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her fingers. “You’re important to me, Ana. I would face any number of nosy relatives for you, and far more than that. What do you say?”

  It was a terrible idea. Either he’d decide he’d made the worst decision taking up with her once he got put through the third degree from her aunties, or they’d break up and her family would perpetually ask her about the nice Colorado boy. Because despite what he seemed to think about himself, he could charm just about anyone.

  “I think maybe you’re a glutton for punishment.”

  He brushed his fingers against her cheek. “No, Ana. I’m just in love with you.”

  She only had time to gasp before his lips were on hers. And at that point, there was really no decision to make.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “WE SHOULD NOT BE GOING,” Ana muttered as they walked down the Jetway, a stop-and-go process as the plane loaded.

  “I thought we’d been through this,” Bryan said. “We go. I meet your family and convince them that you’re not going to be an old shriveled spinster, and then we come home. Easy.”

  Ana rolled her eyes at him. “Thanks for that image. I was talking about the business. I just dropped off all those samples and sent out the brochures. We need to be home in case we get prospective customers wanting to come by.”

  “I’m the owner of the business and I’m not worried. So why are you stressing over it? Are you having second thoughts about me coming along?”

  “No, I’m having second thoughts about me going. You’re the only reason I’m actually going through with it.” She twisted around and lifted her face for a kiss, and he willingly obliged.

  A man in a suit cleared his throat behind them, and Ana broke away to see that the line was moving again. She pulled her roller case along, aware of Bryan following, and couldn’t resist a glance behind her. Partly because she really was grateful and partly because she just liked looking at him.

  He’d made an effort for her family, she noted. In place of the usual jeans and T-shirt, he was wearing a nice pair of slacks and a button-down shirt, though the sleeves had gotten rolled back the second they got into the Uber. He’d offered to shave and get a haircut, which she’d talked him out of. She’d come to like the way his long hair felt when she ran her fingers through it, the tickle of whiskers against her face and neck. And maybe she also didn’t want Bryan to feel like he needed to change for her or her family. All in all, he looked like the perfect millennial businessman, which had made Bryan laugh until he choked when she said so.

  “Just shoot me now,” he’d said.

  “If the coffee roasting business fits . . .” she’d fired back, but he’d just kissed her and told her she could call him whatever she wanted.

  That’s when she’d realized she was in love with him too.

  She blew out her breath now at the recollection, trying to settle the jitter in her stomach. This was moving fast, at least the part that had to do with feelings. They’d spent almost all day every day together the past week, packaging samples and applying labels to bags, Bryan roasting while Ana worked on her laptop in the office. And he’d insisted on driving her to drop off the samples, partly because it was easier than finding parking at every one of the locations, and partly because neither of them particularly wanted to be out of the other’s sight.

  “This is us.” He stopped at row twelve and tugged her back when she almost walked right by, lost in her own daydreams. He took her suitcase and hoisted it into the overhead bin, then followed with his own—he’d temporarily retired the green backpack for this trip, going with a respectable black Samsonite instead. “You want the aisle or the middle?”

  She sent him a chiding look. “Really? You think I’m going to stick you in the middle? Your legs are twice as long as mine.”

  “Which look very nice in those jeans, might I add.”

  Suit Guy now sighed loudly. Bryan threw him a look. “Come on, man, give me a break. I’m dating the most fantastic woman in the world. Can you blame me?”

  For a second, he looked like he might crack, but he just said, “Pick your seat and sit down already, will you?”

  “After you,” Bryan said to Ana, waiting for her to slide into the row. Bryan smiled placidly at the impatient businessman and took his time settling into his seat.

  Ana covered her mouth and laughed into Bryan’s shoulder. “You’re terrible.”

  “The guy clearly has no sense of humor, and it’s not like the plane can leave without him.” He reached for the seat belt and buckled himself in.

  “What if someone calls about the coffee?” she asked, picking up where they’d left off.

  “I’ve got the office phone forwarded to my cell, and I have the ordering software installed on my laptop. I can do anything from California that I could do from here. Probably more, since I won’t be in the roasting room.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it with an amused glance. “You’d think you were the one who was hanging her entire existence on this venture.”

  Ana sobered now. “I don’t wa
nt you to think I don’t have full confidence in you, because I do . . . but what would you do if this didn’t work?”

  Bryan looked at her silently for a long moment. “I don’t know. I still have the farm to deal with, so I would work on the export part, but I don’t think that would actually make me a living, at least not considering Denver rent prices. Go back to Colombia and live on the farm?”

  “You’re that opposed to an office job?”

  “No, just too old with too few skills to get one. And before you say it, no, I wouldn’t go work for my father.”

  The man seated in the window spot arrived, and they shuffled around to let him in, then reseated themselves.

  “I don’t understand your relationship with your dad. It seems to be pretty friendly, if you’re living with them, and Alex gets along so well with him.”

  “That’s because Alex is the son that he always wanted,” Bryan said flatly. “I never had a chance.”

  Ana blinked. It wasn’t the first time he’d referred to how close Alex and Mitchell Shaw were, but it was the first time he’d let on that it bothered him. “You blame Alex?”

  He whipped his head toward her. “No! Not at all. If Alex weren’t there, my dad and I still wouldn’t be close. It just makes it easier on him, thinking that his friendship with Alex is somehow benefiting me.”

  Ana still stared, uncomprehending.

  “Just imagine what it’s like when a self-made man with a driving need to leave a legacy for his son finds out that son has no interest in what he does and is, in fact, somewhat opposed to the whole concept of urban development?

  “On one hand, I know he’s not doing anything wrong. He’s doing business ethically, at least as far as he’s concerned. He’s paying fair market value for the properties he buys. On the other hand, I’ve seen gentrification force out people who have lived in their homes for generations to make way for rich white software engineers. It’s a conflict I can’t get past in my own head. And before you remind me, I realize I’m benefiting from his success, which also makes me a hypocrite.”