"Then call security." She walked behind his desk and poised her finger above a button on his phone. "Do you want me to call?" When he didn't respond, she chuckled softly and said, "I didn't think so." She peered out between the blinds. "This view sucks."
"If you have something to say, then say it," Hodges said. "Otherwise, get the hell out of my office."
"Whatever." Poppy returned to the center of the room, this time to seat herself on a short wooden filing cabinet. "I've been at the spa. I've also been sober for almost two weeks now. Thanks for noticing how fantastic I look," she said wryly.
"One day at a time," Hodges said. "Though usually rehab programs are longer than fourteen days."
"Yes. That's true." Her blonde hair was pulled back in a side braid, and she toyed at the ends as she thought. "They have strict rules at these places, too. No Internet. No contact with the outside world. I do hate rules. I made it until last night without checking the Internet, but then I demanded my cell phone. My mistake, because then I learned about this." She gestured to the rest of us in the room. "This betrayal."
Hodges rolled his eyes and rounded his desk. "Always with the melodrama. Unfortunately for you, a certain blogger tipped me off and told me she'd spoken with you and you were on your way, so your appearance isn't much of a surprise. You breached your contract by failing to appear on the set. I don't give a goddamn what you think about me hiring a replacement."
"No, I wouldn't think so," she said. "But it's the type of replacement you hired." Poppy's tongue licked into the corner of her mouth and she grinned a wicked, mean smile. "She's not even an actress. She's a barista at a local dive. A nobody."
The words sliced right through me. I'd had enough. I jumped to my feet and shouted, "You. Shut up."
The outburst wiped that evil smile right off her face. She was speechless, which gave me enough time to continue. "You. Do you even know what I've risked for you? I kept your damn secret. No one even knew you were in rehab."
"I knew," Jax muttered quietly.
"Okay, fine," I said. "Jax knew. But the point is you asked me to keep a secret and I did. And how dare you come in here and say that I'm a nobody. I'm a bigger person than you'll ever be."
A heavy silence loomed. I could tell that Poppy hadn't expected me to actually stand up to her. Most people probably didn't. Rather than respond to me, she turned her attention to Hodges. "What happens now, Hodges?"
"We've already started filming," he said casually, leaning back in his chair. "If I were you, I'd leave the set right now. You're lucky I haven't decided to sue you, but I could always change my mind."
Poppy stared at a spot on the carpet, deflated. I wondered what she had expected when she'd come storming in here — a hug? Tears of happiness? Then I realized that this was everything that she'd feared: that she'd vanish, and life would continue without her. That she'd barely be missed at all.
Jax sighed and shook his head. "Too bad, Poppy. You've been replaced." I felt him set a hand protectively against my back. "The worst part is that Wren is a better actress than you."
I swear, a shadow crossed her face. I actually witnessed the rage setting in. "Thanks, Jax," she said in an icy voice. "Tell me, have you told Wren here about our history?"
"Your…" My mouth went completely dry. I looked at Jax, but he wasn't looking at me. He was staring at Poppy, slack-jawed. My heart sank. "You and Poppy?" I squeaked.
Poppy laughed. "No, we were never an item. Trust me, I wasn't interested." She stepped closer, closing in on us. "Jax, don't you remember that party we met at? It was right after Griff had been discovered, as they say, and you were telling him that it was high time he settle on…how did you put it? A better piece of real estate." She smiled brightly. "Am I remembering correctly?"
Greta cleared her throat and stood. "Hey, Wren, let's get out and let them talk —"
"This concerns her," Poppy snapped. "In every way. Because you know what, honey? Jax Cosgrove is the one who told Griff that he needed to dump his homely girlfriend and date someone with actual star potential."
I don't know if Poppy continued talking after that. I couldn't hear her above the pounding in my ears. I was still staring at Jax, watching for his reaction. The fact that he wouldn't look at me told me everything. "Oh my god."
I stumbled to my feet, took a second to find my balance, and headed numbly out the door. By the time I reached the middle of the hallway, I heard Jax say, "Wait!" But I kept walking.
The tears spilled as I headed down the hallway, awash with self-pity. This was disaster, and it was all of my making. Fool. Plus, my sandals were too small and my feet were nearly blistering already. I pushed open the door to the back lot and blinked into the daylight. The sun was peeking through the clouds, which should have made me feel optimistic somehow. It didn't.
I wiped off my tears, leaving a trail of foundation, mascara, and eyeliner on my fingers, which I then wiped on my white tunic. If I was going to be a hot mess, then I may as well embrace it. Cheryl had left the golf cart parked in the lot, the key in the ignition.
"Wren!" Jax ran to the front of the golf cart and set his hands on the hood. "Wait. Please."
"You should move. No one would blame me if I ran you over right now." I hated that he was seeing how much he hurt me, because then he'd know how much I cared. "Go away, Jax."
"It was a stupid thing for me to have said to Griff."
"So it's true?" There went any last shred of hope. "You told him to break up with me?"
"It wasn't personal, I swear. I didn't even know you. I'd never even seen you!"
"But all this time." A faucet turned on and the tears flowed freely now. "We've been together for all this time, and you never said a word." I shook my head. "Don't you get it? I thought Griff was a troll, but at least he was big enough not to tell me what a liar my current boyfriend is."
I covered my eyes with my fingers, feeling the grime of makeup smudging. Not that I cared anymore. I was finished caring, when all it got me was a fist twisting my heart in place.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say." Jax stood, allowing his arms to hang limply at his side. "I should've told you. I didn't want you to hate me."
My hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel. "Why should I believe anything you say when you only look out for yourself?" I took a shaking breath and looked him in the eye. "To think I actually allowed myself to care about you. Please move out of my way. Now."
I wanted him to get on his knees and beg me for forgiveness, or take me into his arms and swear that he wasn't just another vain, self-absorbed actor. Instead, he stepped away from the cart to allow me passage. I stepped on the pedal and sped away, trying to ignore the painful ache in my chest.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I caught a ride back to town with Emily, who had been just packing up to leave the studio. Jessie was out in the parking lot, checking her watch, when we pulled in. She had opened the back doors before the engine was off. "Em, we've got to hurry. The place has been hopping this morning and Zack called out sick." I heard the sound of empty trays being removed. "We're not going to get lunch there in time."
I slid out of the van and shut the door behind me. "Hey, Jess."
Her head appeared from behind the vehicle, surprise evident in her wide eyes. "Wren? What's going on?"
"I wanted to come back here." My footsteps on the gravel sounded louder than usual.
Jessie frowned with concern. "Why, are you feeling sick? You look pale." She reached out to clasp a palm on my forehead. "You feel a little warm."
"I'm fine." I brought her hand down with mine. "Really," I added when her lips tightened in disbelief.
"Go in and sit down. Have something to drink. Have you had lunch yet?"
I loaded my arms with trays and platters. "I'm going to help you. I told you, I'm fine. I just want to work here this afternoon."
Jessie clearly wasn't buying it, but we had too much to do to indulge in follow-up conversation. After a few trips between the van and
the kitchen, Jessie, Emily, and I managed to load the lunch order in record time. As Emily pulled out of the lot, Jessie wrapped an arm around my shoulders and said, "Now. You want to tell me what's going on?"
Yes, I did, but this was a discussion that would take a while. "I'm sure the bakery is busy. How about if we talk later?"
I avoided eye contact, knowing the suggestion would raise immediate suspicion. When it came to bakery staff, Emily was the hero. She brewed coffee, waited tables, and cheerfully prepared sandwiches. I, on the other hand, had refused to do most of those things, citing my incompetence as an excuse.
"You want to cover for Emily?" Jessie's eyes narrowed. "Did you bump your head or something?"
"No," I said, filing the suggestion away for a future screenplay. I stopped and spun to face her. "I just think it's time that I stop acting like a damn special snowflake. What has my contribution been to this business? I foam lattes and brew coffee, and somehow convince my mom that she should spend her time sprucing up the space. And for some reason Dad pays me hourly." I paused and remembered the little plastic jar on the counter. "Plus tips."
"Wren, where's this coming from?" Jessie put her hands on my upper arms and gave a light squeeze. "Honey, you're not a charity case, and you're not acting like a special snowflake."
"Yes, I am. Don't look at me like that," I said with a sigh. "Like I'm all dramatic or something."
"You are dramatic. Your whole life is like something out of some made-for-television movie."
Some part of that statement reverberated in a satisfying way. "It's true," I said. "But I'm not trying to be dramatic right now. I'm trying to do the right thing. The honest thing."
My cousin tilted her head to the side, still not entirely convinced. "Something's up, but okay. Let's go back to work."
"Thanks, Jess."
As we walked side by side, I ached to tell her everything. Jessie was the sister I'd never had, the friend who'd always shared my secrets. But I knew that the moment I told her about Jax, I'd only be unloading my burden onto her shoulders. I owed it to her to at least wait until the bakery was closed for the day.
"Don't think I'm letting you off the hook," she teased as we tied our aprons in the kitchen. "The truth comes out eventually."
She laughed, and a pain spread in my chest. Still, I forced a smile and walked into the bakery.
I survived my afternoon as Emily's replacement. More than survived. I waited and bussed tables, brewed coffee, and prepared some sandwiches. True, I brought the wrong lunch order to table seven, but that was remedied with a quick and sincere apology and a few chocolate chunk cookies on the house. When three o'clock rolled around, I was happy to lock the door and turn the sign to "closed" — that is, until I remembered what had to come next.
"Jessie?" Dad's voice called from the kitchen. "Did you talk to Brown's Farm about that order of blueberries?"
Jessie was zeroing out the till. She called back over her shoulder, "He said he's going to bring them tomorrow."
Dad came into the doorway and rested one elbow high on the doorjamb. "So what do we make tonight if we don't have blueberries?"
"We have currants. I thought we could use those. And the strawberries are still good."
Dad's face looked drawn as he wiped his hands on his apron, and my heart tugged with concern. Here I thought I'd been doing the right thing, the heroic thing, by cutting a deal with Hodges Brennan for that catering contract, but these long hours were clearly taking a toll on him. His face looked ashen, his hair disheveled. "Dad? Why don't you head home for a while?"
He looked at me as though he wasn't registering the words, then turned and walked back into the kitchen. I pulled up beside Jessie as she counted money. "What's going on with Dad? Is he all right?"
"He's tired. We're all tired." She suppressed a yawn. "Excuse me."
Jessie held up a finger and I waited while she finished her count, stuffed a handful of bills into an envelope, and shut the drawer. "He hasn't had a day off in months. I'm trying to convince him to take a few days after next week, when we're done with that catering job." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "The contract has been great, but it hasn't been easy. I don't need to tell you that, though."
She headed into the kitchen, so I cleaned up the coffee area, wiped down the counters, and washed the pitchers in the sink. The task took me longer than usual, not only because I was procrastinating, but because I wanted to do a good job. I needed to at least do that much. Finally, there were no more surfaces to be scrubbed or disinfected. I wrung out the rag and threw it in a bucket to be washed. Then I walked to the kitchen.
"Hey, you guys?" I set the bucket on the floor. "Do you think we could have a few minutes to talk?"
Dad was sifting flour into a mixing bowl. "Sure, honey. What's going on?"
I looked over at Jessie, who was washing dishes in the sink. "Jess? Can you come here for a few minutes?"
"Give me a sec," she said over her shoulder. "I'm almost finished."
I pulled up a stool and took a seat. My fingertips were like ice, and I brought them into my lap in a futile effort to warm them. I tried to rehearse my speech. I had to let them know that it was over between me and Jax, and that it had never been real in the first place. I'd tell the truth, simply and openly, that's all.
As I waited for Jessie to finish, I heard a voice call out, "Hello? Okay to come in?" Seconds later, Mom opened the door, carrying two large shopping bags. "I have some window treatments," she said. "And Jess, I have someone coming tomorrow morning to remove that wood paneling in the apartment upstairs. Hopefully it's easy come, easy go."
"Do I need to stay somewhere else?"
"No, he should be done tomorrow." Mom pulled some fabric out of the bag and set it on the counter. "Hey, sweetheart," she said to me.
"Hey, Mom."
"Don't I get a hello?" Dad asked, feigning injury.
The side of Mom's mouth quirked upward. "Hello."
"Hi, Lil." He smiled.
"Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to get down to work," Mom said as she swept one of the bags into her arms. "I have a client meeting at five, but I think I can make it on time if I hurry."
She swept into the bakery, and dad looked up from his mixing to watch her. I was still ruminating on that odd fact moments later when Emily came in, her eyes wide. Jessie noticed immediately. "Emily? Is everything okay?"
That was when I observed her trembling fingers. Still, she had the presence of mind to hang the van keys on the key rack before fumbling for a stool. "I — I don't know what happened." Her chin trembled and she burst into tears. "They told me not to come back."
"What?" I rose from my stool and hurried to her side. "Who told you that? What did they say?"
She was sobbing, her lips blubbering as she struggled to catch her breath. "I — don't know her name. She said she was an assistant or something. She told me that they'd decided to go with a different caterer, beginning tomorrow." I handed Emily a tissue and she swept it under her eyes and nose.
"An assistant?" I asked. "Was it an executive assistant? Maybe named Cheryl?"
"Probably. Yes. I don't know." She inhaled shakily. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I did wrong."
"Shh," Jessie assured her as she came over to Emily's side. "You didn't do anything wrong. I promise." She looked at Dad. "I don't understand. Do you have any idea what this is about?"
"No." Dad's hands were pulled into fists, his jaw tightly clenched. "But this isn't the end of it. They think they're dealing with some small bakery in a hick town? I'll sue them for breach of contract before they know what's hit them." He flung his apron onto the counter. "They don't know who they're messing with."
"Dad." I didn't like how red his face was getting. "Dad. Please, calm down."
"Let me handle this, Wren." He headed to the back of the kitchen, to a little alcove where he kept a desk, a computer, and some files. "I'm going to get that contract and call them right now. Find out what happen
ed."
I took a breath. "I can tell you what happened."
I felt Jessie and Emily's gaze on me, but Dad didn't hear. He came back into view moments later, gripping the contract in his hands. "Here it is. Now, see? In section ten —"
"Dad. Dad," I repeated, this time placing a hand on his. "I know what's going on. I can explain it."
"Wren, whatever you did is no excuse —"
"Uncle Hank," Jessie said, eyeing me steadily. "Let her explain."
He looked up from the contract, and Emily and Jessie waited. So I took a deep breath, and I told them everything.
Silence. That was the response. I'd expected shouting, or at least some elevated voices, but by the time I reached the end of my sad tale, all I heard was silence. "So, that's it. Jax and I made a deal, but we were a complete lie, and today I walked off the set. So now you know everything," I said, giving the cue that it was all right to speak.
The silence stretched on for what felt like a hundred violent heartbeats. I chewed on my bottom lip as I waited, passing my gaze from Emily's open mouth and wide eyes to Jessie's troubling refusal to make eye contact to Dad's complexion, which was a shade of light eggplant. Mom had joined us a few minutes into the tale, and she was standing to the side, leaning back against the sink and studying me, her face lined with thoughts I couldn't read.
I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean — I got in over my head."
"Honey."
Dad stepped forward, and the next thing I knew, my face was buried in his shoulder. "You have nothing to apologize for."
That started the tears again. "We needed this catering contract, and I blew it."
"No! Have you seen the crowds?" I felt Jessie's hand on my back. "Whatever happened with Jax, you've saved this bakery. Hedda's is a destination now."
"Honey," Mom said gently, "you've turned this entire business around. Who cares who you're fake dating? That's between you and Jax. Will you still appear in the movie?"
The sound of his name hurt. I slumped onto a stool. "No. I didn't finish filming my scenes, and now Poppy's back so I guess she'll get the role. They'll reshoot the scenes I was in."
The Coffee Girl Page 18
