“Yup. I’ll tell you more about it soon. Going to see if he’d like company.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask their name, or his name. Riley referred to the Niren as he, but she also mentioned she’d just met him. I swallowed the question and grabbed a broom to keep from staring at them. “Going to tidy the patio.” Tidying helped me clear my head.
“Better put your phone on the counter before you do that… boss.”
I glared at him. “It happened one time!” Well, one time on the patio.
“Sure. That’s why your kid threatened to buy you one of those senior folk phones.”
One of Julian’s friendlier threats regarding my phone. I shook my head and sighed. “He put the repair store’s number in my emergency list.” Also known as David Drummond—Riley’s dad—for when I inevitably broke it… again. The reason I wasn’t still using my trusty clamshell—never even scratched that one—was the lack of a decent camera. No more grainy images of our kids.
Jasper laughed. “Ouch. I’m sure you deserved it, though. I’ve heard the stories.”
Baristas gossiped like our machines mid-rush when it came to me being a tech klutz—loud, constant, and impossible to ignore. “Where are the days when staff respected management?”
“Feared, you mean. Nah, man. We respect the hell out of you, but you can’t blame us when you’re ribbing us about your precious Gandalf all the time.”
“Fair enough.” I’d never wrecked a coffee machine, at least. I took my phone out of my pocket and handed it over. “Guard it well, young damsel behind the counter, and leave Gandalf alone.” Though, out of all of them, he and Zane were the least likely to wreck it.
Jasper held it against his chest. “My precious.”
Goof.
Shaking my head, I went outside and made the patio presentable. Straightening chairs, putting up the umbrellas, giving the tables a quick wipe. Anything to keep myself from staring at the Niren, now I knew they were staying. None of it helped me clear my thoughts, though. What was it about this customer I couldn’t stop thinking about? I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d had a crush on anyone after Tammy and I divorced.
Speaking of… Riley and the Niren walked out together—Riley talking a mile a minute, though not at her usual decibel level. The Niren looked glorious in sunlight, from the color of their skin to their vibrant blue eyes.
They nodded as they passed, while Riley waved. “See ya, Sam.”
I must have smiled like a total sap, waving the cleaning cloth about. “See ya, Riley. Give your dad my best.”
“Will do,” she replied over her shoulder as they crossed the plaza.
I stood there, holding the broom and cleaning cloth, and stared, enchanted, even after Riley disappeared toward the underground parking. I couldn’t turn away. The way the Niren moved across the concrete, it appeared like they were floating. I was still holding my breath when the hotel’s doors closed behind them. With one last glance and a few deep breaths—and renewed hope I’d see them again—I stepped back inside.
For a moment, it seemed Jasper was going to comment, but then he shook his head and handed me my phone back. Thepingof the doorbell saved me from explaining away what he probably understood better than anyone. “Thanks.”
He winked and turned to the customer. “Good morning. Welcome to Café Magnifique. How can I help you?”
I feared more gossiping in my future. If it wasn’t just the two of us manning the counter, I’d have escaped into the office, but maybe it was better that I couldn’t.
Chapter Seven
ADRI
not just for the coffee
Time seemed to fly by and stand still simultaneously as I spent my days drawing and my nights providing newly renovated rooms with electricity, smoothing the energy flow, and fixing glitches in the ballroom and the three floors above it.
Rick joined me the first two nights. The deeper scan I’d performed on the first floor unearthed a pinched cable that provided just enough power to suggest the connector was broken, which explained why the problem returned. It was one of the easiest fixes and one of the few that didn’t pop up again.
At first, I thought their scanner might not be accurate enough. But Rick and I checked the problem points in tandem, and while it needed fine-tuning, their equipment was not the issue, even if its capabilities didn’t reach my level. Rick was more than pleased. He enjoyed watching me work—mentioned it repeatedly—but kept a respectful distance at all times, resorting to solo high-fives and fist bumps when I could tell his instinct was to hug. The way he tensed his hands and arms gave him away every time. I appreciated the effort, and on the third day, Ifound myself holding my fist out. It earned me a beaming grin from Rick and a nod from Riley.
Every resolved issue felt like another empty victory when new glitches popped up on those lower four floors within forty-eight hours of repairing them. What frustrated me most was that while I could find every stutter in the energy flow and every power fluctuation, the origin remained a mystery. The schematics of the hotel’s grounding system showed that the system as a whole worked. The analytics showed no bottlenecks around the anchor points, and the glitches hadn’t spread to the other wings. Only this one.
A few times, I’d almost contacted Kin-Bertie for advice, but doing so would betray my location, and as frustrating as the situation was, I didn’t want to risk being ordered to come home. I wasn’t ready to leave.
Leaving made me think of early morning espressos. Sam’s espressos, with the rich, dark aftertaste I missed on his days off. Oh, the other baristas made great espressos, too, but they lacked that wonderful aftertaste that lingered for hours. And then there was Sam himself—from the twinkle in his hazel eyes to the fuzziness enhancing his soft jawline and his warm, bright smile. The way the sun gave his dark hair golden undertones that day on the patio. The way he said my name and asked how my shift went.
