I may not have a secret pen pal, but what I do have is a man who demonstrated clear interest in me in my bedroom before having a lengthy conversation with my uncle. Yes, Drew and I had a rough time getting to know each other, but so did Tom and Meg, and look what happened there. A romantic kiss in the park, while a golden retriever ran around them. I’m not saying things with Drew are necessarily going to end like that . . . but, well, I haven’t spent all this time waiting for Tom Hanks for nothing.
It’s ridiculous, I think as I approach the coffee shop, all of German Village lit up and glowing in the dark, that someone decided twinkle lights are Christmas-only things, when we desperately need them to get through the bleakness of the post-holiday winter. January is almost over, but we still have February and March and possibly April full of darkness and snow and ice. Twinkle lights should be everywhere all the time.
That’s what I’m thinking about when I open the door, the bell jingling to announce my arrival over a Hall and Oates song.
“Twinkle lights!” I announce, and Chloe looks up from the textbook she’s reading at the counter.
“Is that your new greeting?” she asks. “Idiosyncratic, but I kinda like it.”
“Why don’t you have twinkle lights, Nick?” I ask, walking to the counter. “Don’t you think they’d really add something?”
“Yeah,” he says, handing me a cup. “Extra cost to my electricity bill. Here, try this lavender hot chocolate Chloe made.”
“It’s good, right?” Chloe shuts her textbook, then leans over the counter and peers at my face, gauging my reaction. “Like, Nick should put it on the menu, shouldn’t he?”
I take a sip. “I like it. It’s—”
Gary appears from behind me and grabs the cup from me. He takes a drink and says, “You know, I thought this was gonna taste like potpourri, but I actually like it.”
“Gary,” Nick says patiently. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t sample other customers’ food and drinks.”
“This isn’t a customer,” Gary says, handing the drink back to me. “This is Annie.”
“I’m not even offended,” I say. “Just think about the twinkle lights, okay?”
“I think Annie’s right,” Chloe says. “Like, put them around the front window, so everyone on the street sees them, and it will make this place look like it’s glowing.”
Nick squints at me. “You’re in a good mood.”
“I had a breakthrough on my screenplay last night,” I say with a smile.
“And she’s currently enmeshed in a love triangle, like she’s the heroine of a dystopian YA trilogy,” Chloe says.
“Chloe . . .” I start, wanting to talk to her about my Carter breakup away from Gary and Nick.
“Wait, with that guy who was in here the other day?” Nick asks, wiping down the counter. “The one who smelled bad? He stayed here for two hours after you left, not even drinking that water and talking to Gary about fluoride.”
“It’s a conspiracy,” Gary says, shaking his head. “I didn’t even know.”
Chloe tilts her head and gives me a smile that says, What sort of people have we chosen to surround ourselves with?
I sigh, then decide to go ahead and tell everyone. “I’m not in a love triangle. Carter and I broke up.”
“Oh no,” Chloe says, reaching over the counter to put her hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, actually,” I say, and I sort of can’t stop myself from smiling. “I’m . . . kind of ridiculously okay.”
Chloe leans back over the counter and crosses her arms. “Well,” she says softly. “Maybe it wasn’t such a love triangle after all.”
“Love can be other shapes, you know,” Gary muses. “Square. Rhombus. Octagon.”
Tobin comes out of the back room, and everyone’s attention turns away from me. “Hey, Annie,” he says, pushing his hair out of his face.
“Where have you been, young man?” Chloe demands.
“My mom called,” Tobin says. “She and my stepdad are on their honeymoon in Costa Rica, and she wanted to make sure I’ve been watering her plants.”
“And have you been?” I ask.
“No,” he says unapologetically. “But every day is a new beginning, you know?”
“But possibly not for your mom’s plants, which may already be dead,” Chloe says.
Tobin turns to Nick and points to the speakers. “Seriously? Chloe can play yacht rock again? When is it gonna be time for ambient whale sounds?”
Nick busies himself at the espresso machine. “Shut up, Tobin.”
“This is unfair,” Tobin mutters.
With a laugh, I sit down at the table closest to the counter and pull out my phone. I type an “H” into the search bar, and Hollywood Gossip pops right up. Looking at the site has become my dirty little secret, especially now that I know how much Drew hates this stuff, but I can’t help it. Now I’m invested in the lives of celebrities I don’t even know, and as a bonus, I can rank the Kardashians in order of favorite to least favorite.
But it still feels gross to read gossip, so my eyes shift back and forth from the counter to my screen, like I’m looking at porn in public (which I would never do, mostly because eww but also because Nick once had to kick out a guy for watching porn at full volume and then no one would sit at that table for weeks). Chloe is giving Tobin a lecture about how important plants are for our health, both mental and physical, when I see the headline.
Drew Danforth’s new love? The heartthrob was spotted getting cozy with costar Tarah Thomas on the set of his new film!
I’m vaguely aware of the espresso machine running and of the Steely Dan song that starts playing. I sort of hear Nick tell Chloe that one song was fine but now she needs to turn it off, and Chloe argue that hardly anyone’s here right now and she should be able to play something happy for the book club meeting in the corner. But, for the most part, the sound around me fades into nothing.
“Chloe,” I say, and it comes out strangled.
“What?” she asks, running around the counter and rushing to my side.
Without looking at her, I hand her my phone.
“Oh,” Chloe says. “Oh.”
“This doesn’t look good,” says Gary, who I didn’t even realize was standing beside Chloe, reading over her shoulder.
Tobin walks over, grabs the phone, and lets out a low whistle. “I think you got played, Annie.”
“What happened to cleanup?” Nick asks from behind the counter.
“Drew might be hooking up with another woman,” Gary says.
“See?” Nick points at all of us, accusation in his voice. “This is why I said I didn’t want any movie stars around. This is what happens. At least Bradley Cooper had the good sense not to date any of my customers.”
“We weren’t dating,” I say, taking my phone back from Tobin and sliding it into my purse. “We were just . . . I don’t know, we were just flirting. I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”
“Oh, Annie,” Chloe says, wrapping me in a side hug. “This isn’t your fault. You know what this is? Some sort of fun misunderstanding. Like, you know how in romantic comedies the heroine always thinks the hero is cheating on her but it turns out he’s been talking to his sister or something?”