When Ryder turned to me with a questioning look, I only shrugged. Normally, I had an iron stomach, but not today. With a hard swallow, I told him, "You pick."
Ryder turned back to the barista. "What he really means isyoupick, because I'm not doing jack."
She cocked an eyebrow. "You sure you wanna do that?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Ryder asked.
She lowered her voice to a mock whisper. "Because ifIpick, you run the risk of raisin."
Ryder barked a laugh. "Man, that's cold."
She smiled. "Not if you like raisins."
Which I didn't.My stomach roiled, and I spoke up. "No raisins. Just grab whatever lasts the longest."
Her smile faltered. "Sorry…I'm not quite following."
"He means," Ryder said, "grab whatever takes the longest to rot."
Her smile vanished. "Nothingwe serve 'rots.'" She hitched a thumb toward the wall behind her. "See?" I followed the thumb and spotted the latest health inspection notice, which boasted a score of 100 percent.
But Ryder didn't even look. Instead, he leaned casually over the glass counter and said, "Sure, not right away. But give it time."
Her eyes narrowed. "Is that a joke?"
"I'm just saying, even raisins were grapesonce." He leaned back and crossed his arms. "Think aboutthat."
The barista blinked slowly, like the only thingshewas thinking was how far she could toss him if he said another word.
I spoke up. "Just ignore him. That's whatIdo." I tried for a friendly smile. "Make it half cookies, half muffins, alright?" When she opened her mouth to ask what kind, I added, "You pick the flavors – whatever's best." But then I paused. "Just no raisin, okay?"
Her gaze shifted to Ryder, and her mouth thinned. "Perfect. I'll be right back with your order." With that, she turned and marched into the back room.
I looked down at the glass case full of pastries.Why not grab some of those?I leaned toward Ryder and hissed, "If there's spit in my coffee, it'll be your fault."
With a laugh, he pointed to the coffee dispenser, just a few feet away. "She can't. We'd see her."
Unlike Ryder, I wasn't so trusting. Plus, there was the matter of the pastries. The line behind us was only growing, and she still hadn't returned. I glanced around the crowded shop.Was she working here alone?It sure looked that way.
I looked back to Ryder. "Then why'd she disappear?"
Before he could answer, Raisin Girl emerged from the back, carrying a white pastry box. She handed the box to Ryder, saying, "I grabbed some cookies fresh from the oven. I figuredsince you wanted them to last, I'd make sure you had the newest."
Ryder tossed her a grin. "Smart move."
She laughed. "Oh, you have no idea."
Damn it.Laughing or not, she was still annoyed. I could see it in her eyes – even if she was working hard to hide it.
As Ryder handed me the box, I gave it a long wary look. She'd sealed it with white tape in multiple places. If I were a dick – which I tried not to be – I would open the box right now and give its contents a thorough inspection.
But at the thought of doing anything related to food, my stomach gave an ominous lurch. The box, I decided, would need to stay closed – at least until I'd choked down some coffee.
I almost sighed.Great.I was going soft already.
A moment later, she was handing both of us our coffees, filled from the nearby dispenser, just as Ryder had predicted.
He elbowed me in the ribs. "See? No spit."
