Chapter Seven

Evie

Evie never considered death by shock a realistic scenario. That was until she pushed through the kitchen doors and re-entered the shop and saw the crowd of people. And it wasn’t just your average crowd of coffee-goers, it was overflowing with men in suits and ties, holding roses.

She, however, was so not rose worthy. As she carried a tray of toasty bagel balls in one hand, with a dollop of frothed cream on her right boob, her face glistened like a glitter bomb from sticking her head in the coffee bean roaster.

It took everything Evie had not to bolt right back through those swinging double doors, down the hallway, and lock herself in the office—where her dad was known to keep a bottle of bourbon in the bottom drawer—and devour this fresh batch of balls. But that’d probably only give Julie more camera fodder.

The shop was busting at the seams with customers. Every chair was taken, every inch of standing room filled. Then there was the intimidating line, which went out the door and down the street—nearly every eyeball was zeroed in on her. And standing at the back of the room, holding hands and looking delighted with themselves, were her parents.

A hush settled over the crowd and the room stilled. Evie’s stomach sank. Ignoring the whispers, she worked her way through the crowd and walked straight up to Julie, who was doing double duty on the espresso machine and steamer like it was an Olympic sport.

“What did you do?” Evie whispered harshly.

“Me?” Julie said and didn’t bother to look apologetic in the slightest. “Why do you think I had anything to do with this?”

“Because there are men holding roses, people staring at me, and you reek of guilt.”

“Fine. I think it’s from the last video.”

“What last video?” Nothing from Julie. Not even a peep. “What last video?”

“You’re going to hate me,” her friend said with a gigantic smile. “But I posted a video of you holding Waverly the other day. It was such a picture-perfect moment.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because there was so much demand from your fans that I had to give them what they were begging for.” Julie made a swooping gesture to the crowd that had their phones aimed at Evie—likely recording. “Plus, your mom forced me to.”

She glared at her parents. They waved back.

“Before you unfriend me, let me point out that your fans love coffee. In fact, this is the busiest day we’ve had since I started working here. A bunch of them voted for Grinder as their favorite coffee shop in Denver.”

“I don’t want fans. I don’t want the male species coming in and complicating my already complicated day. And I don’t want roses.” But she did want to win Denver’s Best Coffee House, so a little of the irritation faded at the possibility of being one step closer to her goal. “How many people voted?”

“We ran out of flyers. Plus, every hour I offer half-off drip to anyone who shows proof that they went online and voted for us.”

Well, that was something.

“How many votes do you think we’ve accumulated?”

“Today? Hundreds.”

“Hundreds?” And it was only lunch. If they kept up this kind of pace they might really stand a chance of winning. “You could have at least warned me about the ambush.”

“And risk you bolting? No way. Not to mention that your mom would kill me if I spilled the beans. She’s been vetting bachelors all morning.”

“Vetting?” Evie spotted her mom, who was talking up a tall, dark, and handsome man. Her dad was squeezing the man’s bicep, giving it a test drive. Evie wanted to remind them that she didn’t do tall, dark, and halfway-out-the-door anymore. But what was the point? They were fully committed to the cause and Evie was starting to worry that they wouldn’t stop until they married her off.

“No losers in this bunch,” Julie said reassuringly. Evie didn’t feel reassured. “Now, get out there and show them what a catch you are.” With a resounding smack on the rump, she shoved Evie out from behind the counter and said, really loudly, “Bring on the bachelors.”

Evie turned to flee and bumped into a blond Gen-Z-er who looked cheer-squad peppy and Instagram ready. “And here she is now,” the coed said into her phone, which was on a selfie-stick and streaming live. A bright light beamed in Evie’s face. When she blinked away the floating dots she noticed someone holding a ring-light on them.

“Evie of You’ve Got Male!” The woman pushed up next to Evie, shoving her phone in Evie’s face until she was front and center on the woman’s screen. Evie took in her appearance, and it was worse than she thought. “I’m Tasha Hart and my ClickByte handle is LoveByte, a profile dedicated to exploring love on social media platforms, and you, Evie, have been bitten by Cupid.”

She’d like to bite Cupid right back. Hard.

“Once bitten, twice shy,” Evie said with a forced smile, smoothing her stray hairs back into her ponytail. It didn’t help.

“Well, your fifty thousand follows disagree.”

She looked at Julie, who was looking back, so incredibly proud of herself.

“How are things going in the world of love and romance?” Tasha asked.

“Pretty slow. However, the coffee world moves at the speed of light, so if you’ll excuse me.”

Evie tried to move but Tasha blocked her path. Evie went left and right and left again, but she was trapped.

“Just go about what you normally do. This will make you more relatable,” she whispered, then turned back to her phone. “We’re coming to you live with Evie of You’ve Got Male. It’s a balmy day in the heart of Denver and spectators have flocked to Grinder, one of the oldest coffee houses downtown, to see our bachelorette as she heats up the coffee scene while making one of her famous Everything I Brew I Brew for You mochaccinos.”

“It’s our daily special,” Moira said to the crowd.

Evie’s irritation was boiling as hot as the espresso machine. Unfortunately, there were too many witnesses to scald her loved ones with her famous mochas. So Evie went about her business, walking back around the counter and over to the machine, while Tasha gave blow-by-blow commentary on Evie’s every move.

“What’s an Everything I Brew I Brew for You mochaccino?” Evie whispered to Julie.

“It was your mom’s idea.” She pointed to the board and saw a new collection of romance-inspired drinks. Love is in the Latte. Cupid’s Cappuccino. Fabio Frappuccino. Bodice Ripper Blended Brew. Chai on Love.

Evie rolled her eyes. She was reaching for the cocoa powder when the ring-light came into her periphery, nearly blinding her.

“Look at how she steams up that cream,” Tasha said. “Those hands are capable and proficient, but with a gentle touch, fellas.”

A round of hoots filled the air and she heard her mom above the crowd say, “She gets that gentle touch from me.”

“Who’s going to be the first one to give our bachelorette a rose?” Tasha said.

“Bachelorette?” Evie choked out and that’s when she realized just how big this hoax had become. The men with roses seemed to have doubled and now they were standing in a line, flanking the counter. Each one looked more excited than the last. The only things missing were the limos and glamorous mansion.

Evie had walked into her worst nightmare.

“First up, we’ve got Steve the Stockbroker coming to us from Boulder.” Tasha waved over a man in an expensive suit who looked like a GQ model with a dadbod. “Steve, tell us why you’re here?”

“For this beautiful woman, of course,” Steve the Stockbroker said to the camera.

Evie snorted. She was dressed in a frumpy uniform, her hair looked like a feather duster, and she didn’t have a speck of makeup on.

“I’ve got a lot to offer any single mom,” Steve said. He had the kind of voice Evie imagined the Most Mysterious Man in the World had. Which was another thing Evie didn’t do—mysterious. “All my friends tell me I’ll make the best dad. I’m a partner at my firm, I cook like a five-star chef, I’m a great catch, and I’ve got a weekend home in Steamboat Springs.”

Of course Steve the Stockbroker would have a house in Steamboat Springs. He also had a superhero complex. And an ego that he clearly needed to have stroked.

“Evie,” Tasha said, “the only question is, will you accept Steve’s rose?”

Evie looked at the rose, then at her mom, and narrowed her eyes.

Vetted, my ass.

Evie plastered a pleasant smile on her face and said, “Sorry Steve, but it will have to be a pass.”

Unfazed, Steve looked deep into the camera. “If anyone out there is looking for a single, successful Sagittarius, just hit me up. My handle is @Steve-Broker. I prefer petite blondes who work out and have an adventurous side.”

Evie was neither petite nor blond. And Stockbroker Steve was clearly looking for a social media boost. Her gym membership expired six years ago and the last time she’d given in to her adventurous side she wound up pregnant and alone.

Evie turned to escape back into the kitchen. She hadn’t even made it a foot when Tasha snagged her arm.

“Don’t give up yet,” Tasha said. “You’re one no closer to that big yes! Which brings us to Travis from TechStar, who came from Fort Collins. Travis, tell Evie a little about yourself.”

Travis looked like a typical tech guy in his skinny jeans, untucked dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves, and hair with that perfect wave at the front like he’d just come from the hairdresser. He also had on a watch that likely cost more than Evie’s life savings and probably spoke a hundred different languages.

“Hi, Evie.” He clasped her hand between both of his and was about to say something else when his watch pinged. Maintaining hold of her hand, he flipped it over so he could see the face of his watch. “So nice to meet you,” he said distractedly, then looked up at her like that was a normal greeting.

“You need to get that?” she said, trying hard to hide the hope in her voice. She failed. Not that Travis noticed. He was checking his notification.

“There. I’m all yours.” But his phone chimed again, and again he glanced down.

“Does your watch vibrate? Because that could be fun,” Tasha said and then winked suggestively at Evie.

“Why don’t you tell us about yourself,” Julie said, sliding up next to Evie.

“Five years ago, I created a motivational app that pairs personality traits to influencers and helps them target their audience. I’ve helped thousands of entrepreneurs reach their goals through visualization, strategic planning, and leveraging their natural strengths. Social media is my jam, which is why I was so excited by this idea of finding love over ClickByte.”

“Well, I’m not really big on social—”

His phone pinged again. This time in rapid succession.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

He held up a single finger and dictated into his phone, “Meeting in twenty. Period. Bring the Strafford proposal. Period.” Without missing a beat, he looked into Evie’s eyes. “I’m adventurous, I’ve been skydiving, climbed Everest, and I’m on the waitlist to go to space. I mean, YOLO.”

“Do you know your phone doesn’t work in space?” Evie mumbled and Julie hip-checked her.

“So if you’re open to leaping without a net, will you accept this rose?”

Julie held up a hand. “That’ll be a hard pass, Travis.”

“Totes understand. Not a good personality pairing anyway.”

“Evie, here comes your perfect yes,” Tasha said. “I promise. Ernie is an engineer and a single dad from Englewood.”

Tasha didn’t have to mention his job description, Ernie looked 100 percent engineer. He also looked to be at least ten years Evie’s senior. But his hands were shaking with nerves, and he seemed like a sweet man, so Evie softened her smile and said, “Hi Ernie. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you. As for me, I like long walks on the beach and dogs.” His voice cracked so he cleared it. “I knew the moment you talked about the significance of a single red rose that I had to come. Did you know that a rose’s perfect structure collects and purifies water and its shape inspired an engineering study for water purification? They’re doing research on it at the University of Texas in Austin.”

“That’s fascinating, Ernie. But sadly, there are no beaches in Denver, and I’m allergic to dogs.”

“Does that mean you’re not accepting my rose?” he asked.

“Sorry, Ernie, but I’m going to have to say no. But I’d love to make you a Cupid’s Cappuccino. On the house.”

He smiled nervously. “That would be great.”

“Coming right up.” Then she looked directly into Tasha’s phone. “And that concludes today’s installment of You’ve Got Male.”