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3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Maeve

I had said it as a joke, but seeing Taran’s eyes light up and his demeanour change made me feel all fuzzy inside.

You like this guy. No shit, Sherlock.

“I only said that because I really like this place,” I hurried to explain.

The cafe was like my second home. I had pretty much ditched uni this year. I tried to make myself believe it was only for the money, but that wasn’t entirely true. Uni drained all my energy. I had gone with graphic design as my major because I thought it would give me a solid, well-paying job. I wasn’t bad at it, but my heart just wasn’t in it at all.

Losing my job—this place—would hurt. I had poured my heart into the menu, made new recipes, and done all the decorations. I had played a major role in making the cafe what it was.

It sucked that all our loyal customers would find somewhere else to go—maybe to that soulless Bean Me Up place next to the theatre, with their clueless baristas and greedy corporate bosses.

God, I hated that idea.

I was surprised to see Taran still there, smiling at me, when I came out of my own head. Hey, beautiful.

“Sorry?” I felt like I had missed something he had said.

“I said ‘That’s why I asked.’ I really like this place, too. The atmosphere is great and I feel pretty…safe here. You think the current owners might be up for selling?”

I was sure old Harry Reynolds would be thrilled to exchange a big wad of cash for all his problems.

“I’m pretty sure he would. But seriously, Taran, I was just joking.”

“Would you want to work here in the future? You know everything about this place, don’t you?” He cocked his head at me in a strangely cat-like demeanour, which was so weird considering his species.

Maeve, don’t get too excited! No one ever keeps their promises.

They didn’t really enjoy teasing me, but people would say things out loud and my brain would think they were promising something.

I really wanted to trust others, but it sucked when nobody ever followed through .

“I would, but don’t worry about me.” I shrugged. “Finding a new job is no big deal.”

Trying to find a job I actually like? Now that feels impossible, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Any business would be lucky to have you,” he muttered between two sips of his Brewce Lee, then cleared his throat loudly. “Anyway, aren’t you studying? I think you mentioned it at some point.”

Who do you think you are, Scales? My mum?

Or not. My mum, after all, came from a working-class family. She didn’t really get what I did at uni or why I’d had to go in the first place. Education was important to her, but making money always came first. Graphic design had seemed like a good idea. I’d always been artsy and once I had gotten into the program, I had known I was going places.

“I’m about a year away from graduation,” I told him evasively.

Kat, the solutions architect from the agency across the square, had dropped some major hints about wanting to hire me at BetaworthIT after I finished school. At first, I had felt flattered. But as my time at uni was coming to an end, I got more and more nervous and ended up working a lot more at the cafe. I’d barely been to uni in the past few months.

“You don’t like it much?”

Seriously, what was up with him today? Taran was usually sweet and quiet, never saying much.

You never got around to having coffee with him, though.

“I love the creative part, but the thought of being stuck in an office on a computer all day is giving me nightmares.” Brushing away a tear, I stared in the opposite direction. “And I’ll miss this place.” Crap. Another tear slid down my face.

Taran pulled out a fancy handkerchief from his suit and handed it to me. “Take this.”

“No, it’s fine, I—”

“Insist,” he finished my sentence.

“Thank you, Taran.” I dabbed at my eyes, trying to get a grip on myself. And trying to ignore that bossy Taran totally did it for me. “Time is just so strange to me, you know? I knew I’d leave eventually, but getting hit with it this morning? That sucked.”

He nodded slowly. “I understand what you are saying. Time is such a strange concept, don’t you think? It either goes by too quickly or feels like it’s not moving at all. I can imagine it’s no fun when someone takes away your decision, either.”

“No, it’s not. But hey, what can you do, right?” I tried to hold it together, but totally lost it when I saw Taran’s expression. It was a bit too understanding. “Don’t worry about me, Scales.”

Shit! I blushed. What the fuck is wrong with me?

He chuckled. “Scales? So, that’s what you call me?”

“Nah,” I drawled, knowing he totally saw through my lie.

“I like it.”

I kept replaying our conversation in my head all night like some lovesick teenager. Taran handing me the handkerchief, his understanding smile, the little wink when I’d called him Scales… The way he’d dug his sharp fangs into his bottom lip alone cost me a couple of hours of sleep. And he said he’d see if he could help.

If he didn’t keep his word, I would be crushed. I tried to keep my cool, but a tiny flame of hope burned steadily in my chest.

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