Truth & Consequences (Boston Latte Book 2)

by Fiona Keane

  “Yeah, but he isn’t starting until Wednesday.”

  “I’ll manage alone. It won’t be a problem. So some jerks need to be patient and wait for me while I do the bar and register. Whatever.”

  Emma wiped snotty tears with her sleeve. “Maybe your boyfriend can just give you another week off.” She chuckled, continuing to wipe along her cheeks. “Maybe like two or three.” Who? Right. That bastard.

  “Ha.” I hoped she bought my laugh. “I guess love makes you do crazy things.” She smiled at me, her eyes twinkling like Elliott’s once had. Love. Crazy. Sounds about right. Emma stepped toward me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  “I’m sorry I stormed in on you like this,” she whispered. “I just couldn’t get a hold of you, and you needed to know. I needed to tell you before things were figured out. I’m sorry. I should…Felix is downstairs waiting for me. I should go.” Nodding, I stood and followed Emma to the door. She glanced back into my apartment, studying the space.

  “Did you change something in here?” It isn’t the only thing that changed, honey.

  “It’s clean.” I laughed. “That’s a change. Listen, call me at work if you need anything. I can’t find my phone anywhere. I guess I should reconnect with the real world at some point.”

  “Right.” She giggled, taking the doorknob into her hand. “I bet a week alone with your boyfriend had its perks, though. Fancy dates, fancy rings, everything a girl could want.”

  “Exactly.” I smiled at her while she stepped out. “Can’t keep us apart.” Fancy rings? I only wore Maureen’s ring twice—once to try it on and once to the theatre. That’s the only fancy ring I wore in the last year. The hospital sawed apart the silver wedding band of my mother’s that I wore on a daily basis. Fancy rings. I don’t know if it was my keen research skills, but I’d started to develop a knack for picking up on details. However, that was a detail I desperately wanted to share yet remained too hurt to speak about it. I’ll figure this out on my own. Leverage or something.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was pathetic of me to expect some grand gesture upon returning to work, or even the day prior while I slept away my sorrows. I was the one who left. I was the one who made a conscious decision to remove myself from him.

  I used the keypad to get into work, kicking slush from my boots as I entered the emptiness that welcomed me like a relieving hug. I arrived before five, knowing I would need to drink gallons of coffee to focus on work instead of my dreams and Emma’s visit before the morning rush. It would have been the second day open after Julian paid off the week, so maybe nobody would even come. Yay! I roamed around for at least half an hour, not sure of where to start or what to do. It all looked the same, my heart weary of change after my apartment was essentially remodeled in my absence. I found my keys and my other effects and stuffed everything into my pockets. My eyes were heavy, calling out to the pounds of espresso just feet away from me.

  The last thing I wanted was a honey latte. My favorite drink was just one more thing he took from me. I stared at the chalkboard menu spanning from floor to ceiling near the espresso bar. Even the words written in yellow cursive taunted me, like a painfully beautiful reminder of the last month. I grabbed a cloth from the bar and dampened it beneath the small faucet, squeezing out enough water so it wouldn’t ruin the rest of the board when I erased our favorite drink from the menu. I placed my left knee on the bar, groaning as I pulled up my right leg and almost lost my balance while reaching toward the chalkboard. With two heavy swipes, I erased it. It was no more. Just like my mind.

  “That looks sort of dangerous,” a quiet male voice said from beneath me. “Can I do that for you instead?”

  I spun around, recognizing Matt as he approached me from the opposite side. “Hi there. Nice to see you again. We met for like a second last wee—”

  “Aideen.” He smiled, nodding. “You’re hard to forget. Here, let me help you down.” He reached up for my hands expectantly, and I felt too awkward to not take them, but I was capable of climbing down from the counter on my own. If I could leave Julian Molloy asleep on my couch, half naked, I could do just about anything. Oh, for Buddha’s sake. He doesn’t need to be a piece of every thought. Your goal for this morning is to not think of him anymore. I climbed down, reaching for Matt’s hand to shake while he still reached out for me.

  “It’s really nice to see you again. I told Emma not to come in this week. Her brother passed away last weekend, so she needs some time. Had she trained you at all before we closed last week?”

  “A little, but I also worked at a shop for three years straight when I was at Boston University.” Matt smiled proudly, his teeth less white than Julian’s. Oh, here we go again.

  “That’s impressive! Hey, I didn’t know you’d be coming in today. What are your hours?”

  “I don’t really have any.” He stuffed his hands nervously into his pockets. “I’ve just been hanging around, waiting for you guys to come back. Are we open today?”

  “Yes.” I nodded to the eager weirdo at my side, studying his blue and white flannel shirt and skinny jeans, pleased Emma hired a nonthreatening hipster. “It’ll just be you and me today, Matt.” I twisted my hair around, freshening the ponytail while he nodded with a smile.

  “Great. So…menu changes?” He pointed to the chalkboard questioningly. My eyes followed, disappointed that the words were faintly visible despite my aggressive swipes. Clearly, I couldn’t rid myself of that ass.

  “Just one. No honey lattes ever again.” I cleared my throat. “Speaking of coffee, though, I need about two gallons before we open. What do you want to drink?” I walked away from Matt, heading toward the bar and squatting beneath to pull almond milk from the fridge. His footsteps entered my periphery while he hummed in thought.

  “I’m kind of simple. I’ll just take a regular latte.”

  I looked up at him with feigned disappointment. “Regular latte? Matthew, no, no, no. We’re going to work on that. I’ll make you something else. You need to expand your horizons. Do you like chocolate?”

  “Yeah.” His laugh was infectiously obnoxious. It sounded like a young child mirrored with a piglet. I could tell simply by his laugh that he would at least keep me entertained.

  While he hovered around, familiarizing himself with the stock and espresso bar, I learned a lot about my new partner. He was twenty-six, in a relationship with a girl who was finishing her Masters in New York and hoping to become an actress, he had one calico cat, and he donated ten percent of whatever he made annually to animal shelters across the country. He also played guitar, painted in his free time, and was best friends with the bartender at a pub not far from my apartment. Check. Newest drinking buddy located. While he talked, which was a skill perfected by him, I made him a mocha sprinkled with cayenne pepper and brown sugar.

  “This tastes—” his tongue glided along his lips, “—hmm…it’s like…I’ve just spent the last three weeks climbing Aztec monuments. Or…like I should be at some bistro in the south of France.”

  “Both interesting reactions,” I teased, pleased with his appreciation of the drink. “It’s chocolate, cayenne, and brown sugar.” The door chime distracted our conversation, causing Matt to spin around and approach the register. I remained at the bar, trying to make anything but a honey latte. Almond milk, some vanilla, some hazelnut, and a splash of honey. Honey.

  “Hey.” Matt nodded to me. “Two small vanilla lattes.” I began to appreciate simple orders. Orders that required routine, robotic steps that didn’t remind me of making coffee in Julian’s kitchen. That’s three times you’ve thought of him after saying you wouldn’t. Okay, I’m done. No more. Remember what he did to you. I do. We went through twenty orders by eight in the morning, and my feet were already aching.

  “We’re down to one bag of beans over here,” I called out to Matt while he stepped from the register. “I’m going to run in back for a second. You’ll manage?”

  “Sure thing.” Matt nodded a
t me, a friendly smile upon his face reassuring me of his confidence. His company was a genuine distraction from reality, and I found myself falling into the routine of work once more, feeling like this was all I had ever done. It was as if there had not been an Elliott, an Emma, or a Malcolm, or even anyone else who will remain nameless because I promised my mind I wouldn’t go there.

  I scanned the bags of espresso and coffee beans organized in the back room, quickly pulling a heavy bag of espresso into my arms and returning to the bar.

  “Hey.” Matt approached me before I could enter the doorway. “There’s a couple here to see you. She’s asking about an order, but Emma didn’t teach me about those.” No. Please.

  “You just take their order and bring it back here to get their coffee.” I swallowed, hoping his Boston University-educated brain would help him complete the task.

  “I figured as much, but the woman is asking to see you, not me. So…do you want me to say you’re just busy?” Yes.

  I exhaled, adjusting the weight of coffee in my arms. “Yes. No. It’s fine. I’ll handle it.” They all knew where I lived and worked. I guess, unfortunately, we couldn’t avoid one another forever. Time to move.

  Matt stepped to the side, allowing me to pass so I could drop the bag of beans on the floor next to the espresso machine. While kneeling, I caught my shaking nerves and wavering heart. Please don’t let him look perfect. Lifting my head and standing a little taller than usual, I walked to the register, but nobody was standing there. I glanced out the window, seeing a familiar car parked along the curb with its engine running, destroying the planet while waiting patiently for members of the Irish mob to torture me just one more time.

  “Hi,” Maureen’s voice chirped from my periphery, approaching from a table out of my vision. “How are you?”

  “Wonderful.” What does she know? She was wearing fur again, reminding me to eat less meat and thank Matt for donating to animal shelters on an annual basis. I must ask him how to do this. I will as soon as Maureen stops smiling at me.

  “I missed you on Saturday evening. You were pulled away so quickly.” She continued to grin, her stained lips taunting me. “I’ll have to speak with Julian about keeping you from the party.” She doesn’t know.

  “I’ll handle it, Maureen. Go in the car.” Her companion’s voice pulled my thoughts away from Maureen. But he knows.

  “You’re terrible.” Maureen shook her head in response to Liam, his figure slowly entering our view from the hidden table. “I haven’t seen her in days. You two are always taking her from me.”

  “You’re annoying,” Liam scolded her. “Go wait in the car, and I’ll be right there. We don’t really have time to waste this morning.” Maureen’s heels swiftly clobbered toward the bar before she threw herself around me, the tickling ends of her fur coat filling my nose and gagging me.

  “Let’s do lunch this week,” she sang, leaving her stained mark against my cheek. “Liam, don’t take too long—if we’re in such a rush.” She tapped her brother’s chest before leaving me victim of another Molloy smile, a deadly set of blue eyes, and a voice to pool my insides.

  “I need to talk to you,” he whispered, his eyes wandering toward Matt, who was pouring beans from the bag I brought to the espresso machine.

  “Matt,” I turned to my partner, “can you help me get three boxes of the dark roast beans for Mr. Molloy?”

  “Yes.” He lifted from kneeling against the tile floor. “Anything else?”

  I looked at Liam while responding to Matt, aware of his clenched jaw. “Nope. That’s all he needs from us.”

  “Bir—”

  “We’ll have your coffee in just a minute, Mr. Molloy.” I cut off his attempt at familiar affection, promptly turning on my heel to join Matt in the back while we collected their weekly order of coffee. Matt was holding one bag of dark roast beans when I reached him.

  “Who is that guy?” he inquired, reaching for a second bag.

  “Nobody.” I grabbed the third bag. “Just some congressman’s grandson who orders from us weekly.”

  “Well, forgive me, but he sort of looks like an arrogant shit, if you ask me. They both do. I went to school with some epic snobs, but those two take the cake.” I think I’m in love. Kidding. He just makes my day with this sort of stuff, and I’ve only been with him for a few hours. I had no further comment. I couldn’t be bitter and tarnish the Molloys to Matt. For one, I still feared death, and secondly, I didn’t know Matt. Elliott was who I spoke to about the epic snobs, and they killed him, so I’m shit out of luck.

  “Hey, Aideen,” Matt called to me. “I saw that television on the wall by the espresso bar. Would you mind, and I’m just asking because it’s slow, if we turned on the news? I want to see if they announce who qualified for Boston University’s swimming finals. I don’t know if they’ll announce it, but I’m sort of a nerd about it.”

  “Sure.” I smiled at his question, warmed that he still cared so much for his alma mater. “Just turn it on. No problem.” Matt clicked the power button, turning the volume down to a quiet level only we could hear before we carried the bags of coffee to the counter, observing Liam scrolling through his phone with a scowl along his perfect face.

  “Dudette?” Jack sang from the door, glancing around the coffee shop. His smile radiated throughout the room when we made eye contact.

  “Wow.” I grinned, comforted by the appearance of my stoner neighbor while he strolled into the shop. “I didn’t think you’d be with the land of the living this early, Jack.” I lifted my arms out to hug him, his quickly folding around me, suffocating me in the aftermath of his morning toke.

  “What are you doing here so late, I guess.” I chuckled, aware Jack and I were being watched like mice in a field of hungry owls. “You should be sound asleep by now.”

  “I couldn’t sleep.” He shrugged, releasing me. “Thought I would take you up on that cup of coffee we talked about.”

  “Definitely.” I looked at Matt, watching as he finished handling the invoice with a rigid Liam. “Let me introduce you to Matt. He just started. You’ll like him. He donates to animal shelters.”

  “Wicked.” Jack nodded in appreciation. “Well, don’t let me keep you from work. I’ll just have a seat or something.”

  “What do you want to drink?” I stepped away from him, smiling with humor at the fact I easily ignored Liam. Jack paused to think, biting his bottom lip while adjusting the cap on his head.

  “Something fancy.” His stoned smile refused to leave his happy face. “That’d be awesome. Thanks, Aideen.” Aideen. My name sounded foreign on the tongues of so many different people as of late. Something fancy. I brewed some espresso, added steamed chocolate milk, and dropped a splash of strawberry syrup into a mug for Jack. He’d probably appreciate the sweetness, considering he was chronically stoned and most likely always had the munchies. When I looked up from the machine, Liam disappeared like smoke. The car was also gone, and as much as I desperately desired their absence, it filled me with a nagging feeling in my chest. Well, that needs to end immediately.

  “Hey,” Jack called from the table, standing as I wandered over with his mug, “is it fancy?”

  “Totally. Chocolate, espresso, and strawberries. It needs a name. I just made it.”

  “How about…” He grinned, taking the cup from my hands. “Sleepless Tuesday.”

  I looked at him questioningly. “Sleepless Tuesday?”

  “Well,” he slurped the drink. “I clearly won’t sleep from this coffee and you never sleep, so…sleepless Tuesday.” I nodded, smiling at my strange neighbor. I slept; it was just interrupted by nightmares. Memories. Someone needs to better insulate our building.

  I heard Matt’s footsteps shuffle toward us as Jack began discussing some issue he had with the heating vents in his unit. I tuned him out but continued to smile politely.

  “Dude.” Jack reached a hand out for Matt. “Jack. Aideen’s neighbor. You work here too? Wicked. So listen, this
drink is fucking sweet, and it’s going to be on the menu from now on. I should probably head back home. I’ll need to save this for work later.” I took the mug from Jack as he stood from the table and pulled his coat over his thin shoulders.

  “I’ll make you another one before you go. Just wait a sec,” I called from the bar, watching as Matt and Jack discussed something with wild animation. They were probably talking about how to save orcas or prevent puppy mills from being an enticingly lucrative business. I didn’t know because my heart stopped beating.

  “It isn’t every day that one is rewarded with such distinction and honor. It isn’t common for legislators to be recognized at all; however, it is with the city of Boston and the company of my beautiful family that I cut the ribbon on Saint Mary’s newest care wing. As a result of hard, determined dialogue and collaboration on both sides of the aisle, Boston is one of the great cities in our state now housing an entire wing of care for refugees entering our beautiful nation, seeking support and solace. Shall we?” Loud and clear on the news, Matt unknowingly spoiled my day. Grandpa Molloy, standing proudly with family, was prepared to cut a red velvet ribbon at the entrance of Saint Mary’s. Saint Mary’s. The only sound I heard was Jack’s paper cup tumbling from my hands against the counter. The patriarch moved, numbing my limbs as his grandsons were revealed behind him. Both of them. Both of them. Liam and Julian.

  “Dudette?” Jack called, staring at me from the opposite end of the counter.

  Damn Julian. He looked horrible, horrible and divine. Even with darkened circles beneath his faded blue eyes, he was so crisply assembled that one would assume he was simply exhausted from helping his family save the world. I could see through the luster. I knew him.

  “Aideen?” Jack and Matt both called to me, their voices slow and apprehensive. I tried but couldn’t pull my stare from the television. Julian moved slowly on the screen while serving as a background prop as his grandfather received praise and applause for cutting a ribbon. I know him. Liam was the only one whose teeth were flashing, as the width of Julian’s pained smile barely reached his cheeks. Poured into his tailored wool overcoat, Julian’s mouth slithered behind his flipped collar as reporters approached his grandfather. He slipped into the shadows, but only I noticed. Only I could comprehend because I was looking for it, a weakness, and a sign of emotion, maybe even remorse. What was I expecting? He lied to me. I don’t know Julian.