Page 42 of Liberty

“As you’ve said.” I nodded.

“Okay. Second. I’ve been coming here for a long time.”

I tilted my head as I looked at him, trying to figure out why the warning was so important. “And third?”

“Mr. Albright. It’s so nice to see you.” A busty blonde came around the counter and gave Sterling a quick hug. “It’s not your normal hour.”

“Yes, well, I’ve got a lady to impress, and what’s more impressive than this?” He spread his arms wide to encompass the cute little coffee shop and its cozy décor. “If I could get two of my usual, Jackie, that would be great.”

The blonde observed me for a moment, the tiniest of smiles toying on her lips. “Coming right up.”

When she walked away, my eyes glued to the lush backside that shockingly didn’t have an ounce of Sterling’s attention, I asked the question that Jackie had cut off, “And third?”

He rubbed the back of his hand, sheepishly. “Third, I recently bought this place to save it from going under. Jackie’s a doll and all, but another month and this shop would have sunk. It sinks, no cookies. No delicious coffee. So, I bought it, and I pay her to run it. I might also send all my clients here because, well, I do want a profit, eventually.”

“Did you bring me here to flaunt your riches?” I accused, not that it mattered. It was clear that he was well off. It was never made a secret.

He shook his head vigorously. “Not at all. I brought you here because, well . . .” He suddenly looked uncomfortable. “This is the place where I feel at home the most.”

It was a sweet sentiment, adorably cute. Especially when you placed the feeling next to the Sterling most of the world saw. He led me to a place in the back corner, a c-shaped booth covered in pillows with a stack of magazines on the small table in front of it. He gestured for me to scoot in, then he followed, sitting directly next to me. As promised, Jackie had coffee on the table in front of us before I could even situate myself.

Sterling rubbed his hands together, eager to get started. “Okay, so take off the lid to your cup.” I did what he told me. “Okay, now take one of these cookies and dunk it in for five seconds.”

“What if I do six?” I teased.

“You’ve ruined your cookie and your experience.”

“Oh,” I said dramatically, raising my eyebrows. “We wouldn’t want that. What about four?”

He tilted his head. “Don’t test me, Liberty. I’ve had years to perfect this.”

I laughed even as he maintained a serious face. “Okay, five seconds it is.”

“Good. Now follow me.” He took his cookie and dunked it into the coffee, then proceeded to count out loud for a full five seconds. I took it out the moment he hit five, not willing to risk the wrath of doing it wrong and ruining the precious morsel of the best cookie I’d ever seen. “Now, eat.”

We shoved the bit of cookie into our mouths at the same time, his eyes nearly rolling back as he took in the food that obviously gave him joy. He waited until I swallowed before asking me what I thought about it. I licked my lips, the delicious taste of chocolate and coffee still lingering. “It’s alright.”

He threw his hands up in the air. “What do you mean, alright? It’s amazing.”

“I just feel like three sugars would have been better.” Two was definitely enough.

“Are you kidding me right now?” He was seriously offended. “Three sugars would overpower the notes in the coffee, plus the cookie has enough sweetness that it would have been too much. What is with this generation? The love for sweet is ruining the classics.”

“I suspect you feel passionate about this.” I bit my lip, trying not to laugh.

“I really do.”

“Fine. Two sugars will suffice,” I offered.

“The thing is, now I don’t believe you.” He leaned in closer. The smell of sugar and coffee mixed with a scent that could only be uniquely his wafted toward me. It was alluring, incredibly tempting, and if I just leaned in a little closer, I could probably . . .

The ground below my feet started shaking, and to the side of us, I heard Jackie scream, “Earthquake!”

Only, the city wasn’t on a fault. I had lived here my whole life and never once thought about or felt an earthquake. No. It couldn’t be that simple and yet that complicated. But, judging by the look on Sterling’s face, it most definitely was.

“I need to get you out of here!” he exclaimed as he practically pushed me out of the seat. Around us, people dove under the tables searching for protection, but Sterling wasn’t buying the excuse of an earthquake. “We’ve never had an earthquake here.”

“There’s a first time for -”