Touched Page 3

  Peta pulled me aside as soon as there was time, and we took a seat at one of the tables. I was grateful to be off my feet as the constant flow of people meant I hadn’t sat down for hours, something I wasn’t used to. I was beginning to think lustfully about my old office chair.

  “I didn’t realise this place was so busy,” I said as I slipped my shoes off under the table, hoping no one would notice.

  “It’s partly due to Gabe,” she said. I looked at her quizzically. “Don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed him.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

  “Peta!” I said, shocked. “He’s so young.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “No harm in looking, is there?”

  I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “You’re terrible.”

  She laughed. “Look at you. You’re blushing just at the mention of him. You can’t tell me you hadn’t noticed.”

  I dropped my shocked expression and laughed. Gabe, still working at the counter, stretched up to reach a flavour shot bottle, flashing the smooth muscles of his bicep. He caught my eye and winked.

  “Okay, I might have noticed,” I conceded.

  “Might?”

  I told her to hush as Gabe walked over carrying our coffees. He placed them down and winked again.

  “Kate is sick today, Gabe.” She cocked her head and looked at him expectantly.

  “The fact that she is sick has nothing to do with me, I swear.” He held up his hands and blinked innocently, but his smile wasn’t so innocent. “Honest boss, I’m behaving.”

  Peta shook her head and shooed him away. “He’s trouble.”

  I lifted an eyebrow and took a sip of the coffee. “Sounds interesting. Spill, I need some distraction. My feet are really killing me.”

  Peta glanced down at my shoes under the table. “Might pay to add some flats to your shopping list. Anyway, Jordan is the third girl I’ve had to hire in the past two months and already she’s showing signs of falling for him. And as for Kate, well, I’m not sure what’s going on there. Hopefully, she really is sick, but I have my doubts. I’ve talked to Gabe about fraternising with the staff but they follow him around like little lost puppies until, finally, he notices them. Then, when he pays them some attention they are left devastated when things don’t go the way they had imagined.” Peta took a sip of her coffee as Mark plonked himself on the seat beside me. “I’m just filling Lauren in on our local Lothario over there.”

  His brows creased together. “I just don’t see what they see in him. He’s all tousled and messy looking.” Mark and Peta shared a look and laughed. “You do have to admit he’s good for business though.”

  When I looked around the room, it was hard not to notice the majority of eyes were trained on Gabe. And not just female. There was something magnetic about him, yet he seemed oblivious to it. Each time he looked up, people sat a little straighter, flicked their hair and pouted their lips. Others either watched a little too closely or puffed their chests out a little further.

  “I suppose it does make up for his role in my staffing issues,” Peta said, looking around at the full café. She tipped her coffee up and drained it. Everything with Peta was done that way. She never sipped. She sculled.

  3

  LAUREN

  That night I lay in bed and stretched my arms out across the wide mattress. It’s strange how the heart could still long for the very thing that hurt it.

  I met Derek when I was sixteen so I could barely remember a time without him. We were high-school sweethearts, and I followed him south, keen to get into the real estate business, once he realised his dream of living fulltime off the band was never going to come to fruition. I played with my photography business and he sat his real estate exams.

  There were times I used to fantasise about being single. About the little things, mostly, like watching whatever TV show I wanted without a running commentary of how pathetic it was, or cooking nothing but eggs on toast for an entire week if I felt like it. Stupid little things. But when my fantasy came true five months ago, the reality was shit. My fantasy was supposed to stay where it belonged; inside my head.

  Derek sat me down one night after dinner. I had cooked a meal I knew he liked, thanks to a recipe and constant on-call advice from Peta. Slow-cooked beef brisket, creamy mashed potatoes, honey-glazed carrots and sautéed cabbage. It may not have turned out quite the same as if Peta had cooked it, and it looked slightly like a Pinterest fail, but it was the effort that counted. At least, I thought it was.

  He took my hands in his and looked deeply into my eyes as we sat opposite each other at the table. It happened often, these ‘talks’ of his, so I wasn’t concerned. In fact, I wasn’t even really listening. I was prepared for another speech on how I needed to get out of the house more and be more social, on how I needed to do something other than work, on how I needed to get my life back. But there was something different about this time. It wasn’t the words that made me realise it wasn’t one of his usual talks. It was the fact that he was nervous. Derek oozed confidence, even when he didn’t have any. It was a particular talent of his.

  He swallowed and took a deep breath before talking. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

  I smiled slowly as a flutter of worry passed over me. “Of course, I love you too.”

  “These past few years have been wonderful and I know the loss of the baby—”

  I flinched at the words and tears came unbidden. It had been two years but the pain was still there. Tears were my body’s unwanted response to the memory.

  Derek dropped my hands and got to his feet. “See, this is what I’m talking about, Lauren. We can’t even talk without you bursting into tears.”

  I couldn’t help it then, the tears spilled over my eyes and trickled down my cheeks. I hurriedly wiped them away but they continued to fall and I stared at him through blurred vision.

  “I can’t do this anymore.” He didn’t look at me. “We don’t belong together. You, me, we’re too different.”

  I got to my feet and touched his arm gently. “I will be better.” I plastered on my most convincing smile, though my eyes were still swimming with tears I couldn’t control. “I promise. I will be better. I will try harder.”

  Derek was a far more social creature than I. He longed for a return to the days when I eagerly clung to his side, content just to be anywhere he was. But since that day, my desire for a social life had lessened. He thought I was depressed, and for a while, I was. For the first three months I could barely get out of bed. I didn’t want to. But then I started working for Derek and threw everything into my job. It was my distraction.

  But it wasn’t enough for Derek, despite asking for my hand in marriage only months earlier.

  “It’s too late.” He turned from me and sighed deeply, his shoulders rising and falling dramatically. “I’m leaving.” His eyes drifted over to a suitcase sitting by the door. I hadn’t even noticed it.

  Derek was my everything. But I never realised just how much of my everything he was until he was no longer there. We had been together for thirteen years, and for the last year and a half, we had also worked together. Losing Derek didn’t mean just losing my fiancé. It meant losing my fiancé, my job, my home and, it appeared, most of my friends.

  But later that night after our talk, having decided I needed to see him again, beg him to stay with me if that’s what it took, everything changed. I drove to the office, knowing that was where he would be, and walked in to find him on top of a fellow agent. Literally on top. As in, she was spread across the desk, legs wide and Derek was thrusting into her like someone possessed.

  It was a lot easier to let him go after that.

  My phone lit up and my mother’s face crossed the screen. I let it vibrate, waiting for it to go to voicemail. After a few guilty moments with Smudge staring at me accusingly, I called her back.

  “Hey, Mother,” I said in what I hoped was a chirpy voice.

  “Hello, Lauren. Hey is not a greeting. Ha
y is what cows eat.”

  I rolled my eyes, held the phone away from me and gave it the finger. Smudge stood up, turned, and sat back down facing the other way, disgusted by my behaviour.

  “When are you going to get a real phone line, Lauren? I hate talking on these cell phones. They cause ear cancer.”

  “You’re not talking on a cell phone, Mother, I am. There is no point paying extra for a land line.”

  “You had a land line with Derek.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  I fell silent until it grew awkward and she couldn’t handle it anymore. “How was your new job making coffee? Your sister told me.”

  I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. “It was great, Mother.”

  “You’re not very talkative tonight. Is everything okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just a little tired, I’ve been on my feet all day.”

  “Derek misses you.”

  “Derek chose to leave, not me.”

  “But there had to be a reason. Men just don’t up and leave their wives for no reason. Are you sure you won’t take him back?”

  “We weren’t married. I was never his wife, and Derek doesn’t want to come back.” We’d had this conversation many times.

  “What God has put together—” she began.

  “Let no man put asunder. I know, Mother. But technically, God hadn’t put us together, well, he hadn’t yet.”

  “Well, I’m pleased you enjoyed your new job, even if I don’t understand why you had to get a new one. You were so happy with Derek and he loved having you work for him.”

  With him, I wanted to correct, but held my tongue. “Look, I really am tired. I’m going to go to sleep now, Mother. Tell Dad I love him.”

  “I will.” And then she hung up. It annoyed me how she never said goodbye. She simply hung up.

  Flicking through my contacts, I sent my sister a text message.

  Me: She still blames me. Thanks for telling her I started a new job.

  Morgan: Hope your first day went well. Why don’t you just tell her about the man-stealing-bitch?

  Me: Because somehow it would still be my fault. First day was fine. Scary. No idea what I’m doing.

  Morgan: You’ll figure it out. You always do.

  Morgan: Got to go. Madi is still on the phone with her latest crush and we told her to get off the phone half an hour ago. Going to go get my yell on. Talk tomorrow.

  Putting my phone aside, I rolled over and pulled my knees tight to my chest, ducking my head under the blankets, feeling small in the big bed, and wishing I wasn’t alone.

  I wished I could be annoyed at the catch in Derek’s breath as he slept. I wished that I had the warmth of someone close to me. I wished that I had someone to share the night with, other than a Smudge of a cat.

  4

  LAUREN

  “Never steam the milk to above seventy degrees Celsius, unless, of course, some idiot demands it,” Gabe said, holding the jug under the steam wand. The milk made a gurgling sound as it whipped around the edges, growing in volume as it became thicker and frothier. Once it reached the desired temperature, he knocked the jug on the counter and expertly poured it into the mug leaving a beautiful fern-like design on top.

  Smiling, he turned to me. “You’re up.”

  “How do you know when it’s the right temperature?” I asked.

  “I can tell by touch, but you get to use one of these.” He reached into the cabinet below, pulled out a thermometer, and clipped it to the side. It was angled so it protruded into the middle of the jug. “Remember, don’t let it get to seventy or you’ll burn it. And someone’s mouth.”

  I held the jug up to the steam wand and started the pressure. It spluttered and Gabe covered my hand with his and pulled the jug up higher. He tilted it until it was the right angle.

  “There, perfect,” he said. “You’ll get the feel for it after a while.”

  It was unusually quiet in the café and Gabe took the opportunity to train me while there weren’t any customers waiting. I watched the milk forming small, thick bubbles and kept an eye on the needle.

  “Remember, we don’t want much froth. We want it creamy for a latte, not frothy like for a cappuccino.”

  I concentrated on the milk and, as the needle approached the little red line, I turned the knob, placed the jug down on the counter, and wiped off the nozzle.

  “There,” I said, surprised at the satisfaction I felt over such a small task. Gabe slid the coffee cup towards me, a thick crema over the surface, ready for the milk. I poured slowly. It looked nothing like his, but it was passable.

  “I think the tongue helped,” he said.

  “Huh?” I looked up to find him studying me, amusement twinkling in his eyes. He ran his tongue back and forth across his lips, mimicking my look of concentration. I couldn’t help but become a little transfixed with the image of his tongue running over his full lips and laughed to hide it. I had found myself allowing the indulgence of stealing looks all day, claiming it innocent under the banner of being pure fantasy.

  Gabe slid the cup closer towards him, examined it closely, and then he lifted it to his lips and took a sip. “Not bad for a first attempt. Next latte ordered you’re making it.” He put the cup back down and rested against the counter, crossing his arms. “You’re well on your way to fulfilling your lifelong dream of becoming a barista now. Latte sorted.”

  “Only cappuccino, mochaccino…” I turned and looked at the board behind me. “And countless others to go.”

  “We’ll concentrate on one a day and you’ll get there in no time.”

  I turned to the sink, picking up the jug and washing it.

  “No skirt today, huh?” Gabe asked.

  “I went shopping this morning. Business skirts weren’t cutting it for this job. There is a lot more movement required than sitting at a desk.”

  “Pity, I kind of liked it.” I looked at him sharply, but he just grinned. “So, tell me, Lauren, what brought you here to join our little team?”

  “Peta hasn’t told you?” I said, dumping the now clean jug on the counter.

  He shook his head and picked up a tea towel to dry the jug. “We do have dishwashers, you know.”

  “I took this job for the same reason that most people do. Money.”

  Gabe nodded. “I hear ya. What did you do before?”

  I decided to skip the last couple of years. “I used to have my own photography business, actually. Mainly, it was just weddings for friends and family, portrait shoots, stuff like that, but I did have the odd commercial client.”

  Crossing his arms, Gabe leaned against the counter. “What made you give it up?”

  I shrugged my shoulders and turned around, plastering a smile on my face. “Life.”

  “Ah, yes. Life. A common occurrence for most people.”

  “What about you?” I asked. “Is making coffee your life-long goal?”

  He shrugged. “For now.”

  Someone cleared their throat behind us and, as I turned around to greet the customer, my heart sank.

  “Hello, Lauren,” Derek said, smiling.

  “Hello, Derek,” I replied flatly. She was standing beside him, arm looped through his. Flashes of her creamy white thighs burned in my brain. She smiled and ran her eyes up and down Gabe. I inched a little closer to him.

  “Your mother told me you’d started working here,” Derek continued.

  Of course she had. She would have been on the phone to him the second I had hung up. Beside him, the man-stealing-bitch cast her gaze along the counter and into the cabinets of food. She turned back and stared at me as if it were somehow my fault the food didn’t impress her.

  “It’s nice you have something to keep you occupied.”

  I seethed at his comment but bit my tongue. The man-stealing-bitch blinked slowly and smiled up at Derek. Her blouse strained against her chest, the material between the buttons gaping open to reveal scarlet lace under the crisp white. The same colour she had been wea
ring that night. I smoothed my apron and looked back up at him, taking a deep, calming breath. I had never told Derek what I saw. After the shock had subsided, I merely closed the office door and drove back home.

  Derek looked good. According to my mother, he had started going to the gym and was signed up for some charity fun run, or something like that. I had tuned out. Whatever he was doing, it sat well on him. His face had thinned out a little, not that it ever needed to, and his shoulders somehow looked wider. His hair was a little longer than he used to keep it, and was pushed off his face, giving him a more stylish appearance.

  “Would you like to order?” I asked, mustering up the most professional tone I could manage. I would not let him get to me.

  “Straight to business, is it?” He placed his hands on the counter and leaned in closer. A flicker of annoyance passed over the man-stealing-bitch’s eyes at the familiarity. “How have you been? I’ve been worried about you.” I rolled my eyes and gritted my teeth. Derek frowned. “Please Lauren, we’re adults here. Let’s behave like it.”

  I bit back the reply on my tongue. “Would you like to place an order? I’m rather busy.”

  Derek looked around the nearly empty café. “Fine, but I’m trying to be friends, Lauren. It wouldn’t hurt you to try as well. Two lattes.”

  I started keying in the order when the man-stealing-bitch added, “With soy.”

  “Soy?” Gabe asked, eyebrows raised.

  Derek looked at him as though he had just noticed him for the first time and nodded. Then his eyes moved to the man-stealing-bitch beside him, and the way her eyes roamed over Gabe, and he frowned. I couldn’t help but smile a little.

  “That’s what the lady said,” Derek replied curtly.