Page 27 of Unlikely
Nina’s voice is gentle now, almost a whisper, almost like she’s anxious to voice her next thought. “Clem.”
“Mhm.”
“Do youwantit to happen again?”
9
ZARA
Abell rings as I push the heavy glass door of Wonderwood open. The café is fairly busy, a few tables occupied and the line to order about five people deep. My eyes scan the shop from wall to wall, searching for Clementine.
Besides knowing that Raine isn’t working today, I took the gamble that with Clementine being a manager she would be here this morning. It’s been four days since she left my house, and my mind has known no rest since.
“Excuse me,” a voice from behind me says.
Realizing I’m still standing in the doorway, I quickly cross the threshold and turn to apologize to the person.
“I’m so—” The words trickle back down my throat as I take in a flustered-looking Clementine, with her flyaway hairs, red cheeks, and curious green eyes.
“Good morning,” I finally manage to say.
Her spine straightens at my greeting, her reaction either shock or defense, neither of which I like. “What are you doing here? Raine doesn’t work today.”
I nod, anxiously hiking my tote bag up my shoulder. “I know that. I came to see you.”
She places her hands on her hips. “Why would you do that?”
“Because you left without saying goodbye.”
Whatever she thought I was going to say, the words that slip past my lips aren’t it. She opens and closes her mouth, words failing her, as if she’s stunned into silence.
“Can we talk?” I ask her.
She flips her wrist, checking the time on her watch, and shifts her gaze to whatever’s behind me.
“I can come back on your lunch break,” I offer, a little too desperately. “I have the day off, so whenever you’re free. I can wait.”
I’m coming on too strong, I know it, but I don’t have a lot of time to work with. Between all of our schedules, I couldn’t guarantee there will be another day that I’ll have off and Raine won’t be here.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” she says, her features softening.
“As a heartbeat.”
“In that case, how do you feel about inventory?”
Filled with gratitude and relief she didn’t turn me away, I practically bounce on my toes like a teenage girl. “I absolutely love inventory.”
She rolls her eyes, but it’s the subtle lift of her lips that gives her true feelings away. Feelings that hint maybe I’m not as crazy as standing here before her makes me feel.
I dutifully follow her into a staffroom where she takes my bag and places it with hers in a locker.
“I’ll be right back,” she tells me. “I just need to grab some paperwork and then we’ll get started.”
I watch her walk out the door, slip my hands into the pockets of my wide-leg pants, and begin pacing the length of the room. Besides convincing her to take the time to talk to me, I don’t really have a plan, I just want to see her. Have the chance to be in her presence without worrying about all the baggage we’ve suddenly acquired.
Her return interrupts my thoughts, and I’m naturally grateful for the intrusion. She hands me a tablet along with a stylus pen.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asks.