“It might go into the ridiculous request folder, but you can try.”
She glances at me and smirks. “If my child ever sends a suggestion, these people should expect a revolution. She just did that at school last week.”
“She sounds more and more like a mini-you.”
“I’d never do something like that.” Her innocent smile almost convinces me that she’d never do such a thing.
If I hadn’t been at her house often or listened to Aiden complain about her, I’d believe her. “I still remember the time you went on a strike because your mom bought the wrong brand of milk. You were six, maybe seven?”
She covers her face with both hands. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“What do you want?” I ask.
“A Reuben sandwich, kettle chips, and a mango and berry fruit cooler.”
I nod, walk around the counter, and type in her order. Then add mine.
“Hey boss, I thought you were taking the day off.” Brandt, the manager, steps out of the kitchen.
“This is my friend Autumn. If you ever see her, her order is on the house.”
Autumn’s eyes grow wide. “You own this place?”
“Yep.”
“So, you’re going to send my email to the ridiculous inbox, huh?”
“Not after the threat of sending your child. The last thing we need is a six-year-old marching outside demanding her right to name my products frosty-fruity-shakes.”
We both laugh. I tilt my head toward the back. “Why don’t we eat in my office?”
“I’m getting the VIP treatment,” she says excitedly.
I ask Brandt to bring the food to my office. Once I close the door behind us, Autumn speaks, “This answers the question about what you do for a living, huh.”
I nod. “Why don’t we take a seat? We can use my desk as a table.”
She almost runs to my leather chair and makes an entire production of taking a seat. Have I mentioned she’s adorable?
“Is this a franchise, or do you own all the cafés in the country?”
“I own them. I don’t plan on creating a franchise.”
“You own a chain of coffee shops.” She sounds surprised, even shocked. “I don’t see it, but it makes sense.”
I can’t understand her reaction or comment, so I ask, “What does that mean?”
“You like to entertain and make sure everyone around you is comfortable. This is the best place to do it. At the same time, I imagined you owning a company like Kingston or Burke.”
“We’re all different. I doubt I could’ve kept a nine-to-five job. Burke likes what he does, but RCC isn’t the only thing he does.”
She narrows her gaze. I’m sure she wants to ask more about my last statement or maybe Burke. After all, her brother works for him. There’s nothing to worry about. Seth and Burke don’t plan on closing the place even when both of them have other interests.
Her features relax, and I feel like the inquisition is over. It isn’t. “Why the café? I love the place, but there are so many of them. I don’t understand why you’d want to create one too.”
“It was a project,” I explain. “The teacher hated me because I’m Donovan St. James’s child. He said I should rot in Harvard with people like me.”
She cocks a brow. “You didn’t go to Harvard? The scandal.”
“I never applied to Harvard. So anyway, at the beginning of the semester, he said that our final test was a project. It consisted of creating a company. We had to have a business plan and find a retail space to set it up. If we chose to develop something eCommerce-related, we had to look for a warehouse or even our parents’ garage for a start-up. He wasn’t expecting us to run the business, though. Halfway through the semester, he asked to see our progress.
“At the time, I lived with Burke and Seth. We complained about the crappy coffee around campus, the long lines, and the awful food. I just gathered everything that my friends and family would enjoy or hated and created a place where they’d love to spend their time.”
“I thought you said it was just a school project. Why open it?”
“As I said, the teacher hated me. When I showed him the coffee shop, he called me lazy. I argued with him because I knew it’d be a success. I had done all the grunt work. He told me to start from scratch or expect to fail the class. Of course, I had to prove him wrong. I invested part of my trust fund, and I used Dad’s connections to expedite the permits to set it up. The café was up and running by the end of April. There were lines of people trying to get in during the opening week.”
“Wow.” Her mouth opens slightly.
I like the admiration. Sure, I had the money to start it, but if I hadn’t had that part, I would’ve tried to get a loan or found a way to make it happen. Then again, if I hadn’t been Donovan St. James’s son, I wouldn’t have had that problem.
“You aced the class.”
“No. The asshole gave me a C. He said it’d fail by the end of the year.”
“I’m sure every time he goes to buy a coffee, you show him he was wrong.”
“That or the fact that during training, all employees learn not to serve him.”
She gasps. “Seriously?”
“Nah, I don’t give a shit about him.”
“Either way, I’m glad he pushed you to create this place because it’s one of my favorite coffee shops.”
I like knowing that she enjoys coming here. Callie suggested a couple of times that I sell it and open a restaurant. A five-star restaurant that was worth talking about online and might get us A-listers.
I regret thinking about Callie because, at that moment, Autumn decides to bring her to the conversation. “How did you meet your wife?”
Chapter Fourteen
Zach
How did I get myself into this mess?
For the past two years, I’ve been doing a great job of avoiding any discussion about Callie. I’m tempted to redirect the conversation. I glance at Autumn. Something in her eyes convinces me that it’s okay to discuss my demons with her.
I open up to her, aware that this could break me to the point that I might not be able to function.
“One afternoon, she showed up at the original Café Fusion asking for a job.”
“I don’t know if it’s cute or weird that you dated an employee.”
“She never worked for me. I wasn’t hiring at that time. A few weeks later, I was at a restaurant eating with Burke and Teddy. She was our waitress. She slipped me her phone number when she brought me the check, and the rest is history.”
I leave it at that. I don’t add that I didn’t call her nor that she showed up at my shop three more times before I finally asked her out.
“That’s romantic. Love at first sight.”
I wouldn’t call it that. Callie was beautiful. Willowy and slender, she had expressive brown eyes that captivated me. She was sexy, and I was hooked after our first date. We were good in bed. I confessed that last year when Teddy made me listen to some of Persy’s shows so I could snap out of my celibacy. I discovered that her advice is spot on. I fell for Callie’s moves immediately. She followed her sister’s advice to a T. That’s why I thought she was everything—the love of my life.