“We’re gonna need another batch of those kick-ass pastries—they’re flying!” Meadow says with a toothy smile.
“No problem, we’ve got a whole stash.” I reach under the table, pull out a second tray, and place it on top.
“Woo-hoo, you rock!” She flashes me a thumbs-up.
“Nah, thank Cole for letting me use Wired Cup’s test kitchen to whip these babies up. It’s easy to make enough to feed an army—”
“Or at least a homeless camp.” Meadow peels the foil off the new tray, inhaling the sweet scent with an appreciative grin.
I love her excitement, how genuine it is knowing she was once on the streets herself.
Then I go to work, filling row after row of disposable cups with piping hot coffee and placing them on the table beside the pastries.
My phone dings and I pull it out.
“Is that your pastry daddy?” Meadow asks with a wink.
“Um…” My face heats as I glance at the screen and shake my head. “It’s Destiny, actually.”
“Nice! Don’t tell me she’s canceling on us?”
“She’ll be here, I’m sure.” I tap the screen and pull up the text.
Destiny: I’m on my way now. Leaving the library. I’m walking so it’ll be a few.
I type back, Meadow and Wyatt can handle things here for a minute. Why don’t I come pick you up?
Destiny: No, it’s cool. I’ve already gone two blocks. Oh and I’m stopping off at Sweeter Grind. The cinnamon lattes there are bussin. Let me know if you want anything.
Eliza: Traitor. Don’t let your dad see or he’ll kill you. I add a skull emoji.
Destiny: Not if he doesn’t know. She punctuates that with a wink emoji.
Laughing, I drop my phone back in my pocket.
“Well?” Meadow asks.
“She’s on her way now.” I return to dutifully filling up coffee cups.
We work through the next big rush until the line clears. As always, the traffic comes in waves. So do the donors who just want a treat and they’re happy to throw down a twenty for a good cause.
“Whew, I’m working up a sweat. Must be twice as many people as last week,” she says.
“Woof, you’re right. Huge crowd.” Something bothers me, though, and it’s not just the relentless stream of hungry people. I stand on my toes, looking for Destiny’s head. “Hey, Meadow, how long do you think that last rush was?”
“Dunno. Maybe a good twenty minutes?”
I take my phone out again to check the time.
Yikes.
It’s been almost an hour since Destiny texted me.
It shouldn’t take that long to get to Sweeter Grind; it’s just down the street. The walk itself, well under half an hour.
Shit.
I call her. It rings seven times and goes to voicemail.
Destiny, where are you? I text.
When she doesn’t respond in five agonizing minutes, I try again. Hey, just checking in, are you almost here?
No response.
I’m feeling sicker by the minute, my mind hurtling into overdrive.
Ten minutes later, after I’ve imagined Destiny kidnapped and thrown in someone’s trunk, hanging out with switchblade-wielding gangsters in some back alley, being forced to cook meth, and a dozen other horror scenarios, I decide to text her again.
Dess, I’m not upset if you’re late. I just need to know you’re okay, I send.
Another five minutes of dead air.
Don’t freak. She’s probably fine, I tell myself. She’s probably just so into her coffee trip and phone that she lost track of time. Maybe she even ran into a kid from school…
Meadow sees the worry on my face, though. When I look at her, her eyes are wide with concern.
“Everything okay, E?”
“Destiny’s late and she’s not answering her phone. I’d better go to Sweeter Grind and find her. Probably nothing, but I’ll be right back. Sorry to leave you hanging.” I say it lightly, but inside, I’m freaking.
Wyatt walks up. “Who are you leaving hanging?”
“Meadow…and now you, too,” I say. “Sorry, I have to go!”
He gives me a firm nod. “We’ve got this. Go right ahead.”
“Thanks!” I don’t even look back as I sprint through the park toward Sweeter Grind. When I close in on the shop, I pass a narrow alley along the way.
I’m three steps past it when I hear a decidedly pained moan coming from the alley, followed by a sob.
I wince, half expecting to see a group of kids messing around.
But when I double back to look, there’s a slim figure crouched against the brick wall, straining to breathe. Their face is hidden by a hoodie.
Damn it, not now. Cole trusted me with his daughter.
I’ve got to find her, but I can’t just leave someone hurt and alone in an alley.
Sighing, I walk toward the crumpled form.
I’ll be quick. Just make sure the person’s okay, call 9-1-1, and then go find Dess.
“Hey there, are you okay?” I ask.
I’m not even in front of them yet when I hear a familiar voice.
“Eliza?”
Destiny shoves her hood back, lifting her head.
Holy shit!
Her face is red and tear-streaked. Every bit of her shakes as she lurches toward me so fast she almost falls over.
“Oh my God!” My heart drops through my stomach. “Destiny, what happened? Are you okay?” I grab her hand, fighting down my panic so I can help her up. “Can you stand? Don’t try if your legs are hurt. What happened?”
She staggers up, sure, but I’m terrified of making anything worse.
The poor kid heaves a few rough breaths and wipes another tear from her eye.
“I-I think I’m okay, y-yeah.” She grips my hand, falling against the brick wall for support.
I hug her tightly. “What happened, honey? Did you fall?”
She shakes her head and pulls out of my embrace, dabbing her cheeks.
“N-no. These two guys…” She pauses, drawing a shaky breath. “They came out of nowhere and pushed me down. One dude stepped on me, so I couldn’t get up. His asshole friend grabbed my necklace and they took off. I tried to chase them, give them money, give them my credit card for the necklace, but they ran so fast. When I got too close, they threw me on the ground. Knocked my breath out and I just—I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t catch them.”
Oh my God.
It’s not much better than my meth-and-switchblades scenario.
This fifteen-year-old sweetie went after two psycho thieves to get back her dead mother’s necklace. Thank God she couldn’t reach them.
“Destiny, promise me if this ever happens again, you won’t try chasing anyone—”
“But they took Mom’s necklace!” Her voice cracks again, her mouth peeling open as sobs wrack her body.
“I know, baby. I’m just afraid you’d be a lot worse for wear if you’d followed them. You’re way more important than any jewelry.”
Her eyes are so wide with shock, her mouth a gaping ring. “But…but she’s gone and now the turtle is too. Now I have nothing.”
My heart breaks for her.
I’m torn between being grateful she isn’t hurt and hating these people for stealing something so precious.
“I know. I’m sorry. But your mom will always be with you, Dess. No one can take away her memory, I promise you.” I scan her up and down. She’s still standing and looks brittle now. That’s a good sign. But my eyes stop on a nasty gash going down her leg, the blood already crusted over. “Does that hurt? Anything feel broken?”
“No. Not really.” She stuffs her hands in her pockets and turns her face down.
“Stretch your arms out and wiggle your wrists for me.”
Destiny blinks. “What?”
“…it’s what my dad did when he picked me up from school in fourth grade after I fell off the monkey bars. Just do it.”
With a frustrated sigh, she holds out her arms, rattles them, and then rolls her wrists.
“See? No permanent damage. I think.”
“Try rolling your ankles, too,” I say, watching carefully as she steps away from the wall.
“And then I do the hokey pokey and turn it all around?” She raises one foot and moves it around in a circle for me. “You’re acting like Dad.”
“Humor me, please.”
With a trademark teenager eyeroll, she raises her other foot and turns it.
“Good, good. You’re a lucky girl.” I grab my phone then and dial Cole’s number.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Calling your father,” I mouth as his phone rings in my ear.
“You’ve reached Cole Lancaster. This is Saturday and I’m in a meeting until five o’clock. I’ll get back to you as quickly as possible.”
Voicemail. I cut the call.
“That figures. Looks like he’s in a meeting I didn’t know about.” He’s going to hate me.
I pull up the number for the Seattle PD and hit Call.
“What now?” Destiny looks at my screen, worried.
“We have to do a police report. Your thieves could still be out there, and maybe you were just the first hit,” I tell her as a woman answers.
Thank God.
I explain the situation and she says she’ll send a police unit over to the area.
I try Cole again, get his voicemail again, and then text him while I grind my teeth.
Call me as soon as you get this. It’s Destiny. She’s okay, but you’ll want to see her ASAP.
We’re there for another half hour or so, dealing with the cops.
A deputy asks her to tell her story, what the men looked like, and she gives them every detail, her voice trembling. They ask her if she wants to go to the hospital, but she refuses.
Meanwhile, my heart splinters about a hundred more times.
This hurt, scared girl looks so much younger than her age.
Finally I say, “Is that enough for now, Officer? She’s fifteen and she’s been through a traumatic event. She’s answered your questions. I’d like to get her out of the sun, somewhere she can rest.”
“Of course, ma’am,” the cop says.
I turn to Destiny. “Let’s go. My apartment isn’t far. I’ll make you something to drink, and you can rest until I get a hold of your dad.”
“If you haven’t got in touch with him yet…does he really need to know?” She sounds so tired.
“Yes. Your dad has the right to know that someone mugged you, Dess. Don’t be too hard on him.”
“Fiiine.” She groans. “He’s just never gonna let me leave the house again.”
I’m not sure I blame him, I think as we start moving.
Destiny follows me at a slow, steady pace as we exit the alley.
Outside the chaotic scene, it’s a serene summer day. We pass several groups of loud, laughing people with bulging shopping bags swinging from their arms.
“Ma’am,” the cop says, reappearing behind me.
I spin around on one heel to face him.
“You ladies need a ride home? It’d save her some stress on that leg, I bet.”
“Oh, sure. That would be great,” I say.
He leads us to his car and we both slide into the back.
Destiny looks at me with an unexpected grin. “Badass. I’m posting a selfie from the back of the squad car.”
I fight the urge to laugh.
“Dess, please don’t post anything until I’ve talked to your dad. We don’t want him freaking out more than he already will be if he sees it.”
Once the cop is behind the wheel again, I give him my address, and he pulls away from the curb.
I glance up at the officer in the mirror. “Can I ask a question?”
“Sure,” he says.
“Do you think it’s okay for her now?” I hesitate, unsure how to word what I need to say. “Do you think she…” Will recover? Will have soul-crushing nightmares for months to come over this? I can’t say that with Destiny right here, even if she’s absorbed in snapping selfies she shouldn’t be taking.
“She’ll be fine, ma’am. I think this was just a random robbery and assault. There’s been a string of them in this area, I’m afraid.” He drops us off at my apartment a few minutes later. “You two be careful, now.”
I take Destiny inside and sit her on the toilet in my bathroom for a better look at her wound. With a quick scrub and some antiseptic, it’s not so bad. A little bandage and she’s good as new.
In the kitchen, I throw together a seltzer water. I pour it over ice with a twist of lime, mashing the wedge on the side of the glass.
“You have a soda stream?” She stares at me in awe.
I smile shyly. “What can I say? Sometimes you just need bubbles.”
“Sweet! Do you make fizzy cold brews?”
“I do, and I’ll make you one as soon as that water disappears. You’ve been through an ordeal and it’s a pretty hot day. You don’t want to get dehydrated on top of everything else.”
“Thanks, Eliza.” She sips at the drink. “I mean, for everything today.”
“What are friends for?” I say, reaching over to muss up her hair. “Can I get you anything else? Are you hungry?”
“I’m good.” She sucks down the water in less than a minute.
“Hey, did they take your phone?” I ask, before remembering they couldn’t have—she was taking selfies in the back of the cop car, after all.
She shakes her head and reaches into the handmade Hawaiian purse that hangs over her shoulder, holding the phone up. It has a cracked screen but the display lights up fine. “Dad’s gonna kill me. Another screen bites the dust.”
“But it still works. So, why weren’t you answering my calls? I could have gotten there sooner,” I say, throwing together another seltzer water for myself.
“It was on silent and I was a little messed up. It fell pretty far in the scuffle. Took me a minute to find it.”
I stop mid-sip, frowning around the straw.
I don’t know. Something about this just seems…off?
A second later, I realize what.
She’s still got her phone. A top notch iPhone, no less, usually a prime target for any thief with a brain.
Random robbery? Why doesn’t it feel like it?
“Dess, you need to stay close to your dad for a few days. If he’s not with you, keep me or Kate around.”
“Why?”
“Because. They took your necklace, but they left an expensive smartphone and your purse… Don’t you think that’s weird?”
Destiny turns her face up to the ceiling with a strained laugh and soft, “Oh my God.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“You’ve been around Dad way too long. You’re getting almost as paranoid as he is.”
“Eliza!” Cole barks, banging his fist on my door like a sledgehammer.
“Guess who.” Wincing, I look at Destiny.
She laughs as I walk over and open the door. Cole stomps past me and goes straight to my sofa. He scoops Destiny up in his arms, pressing her against his chest with a muffled curse.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Destiny, did they…” he trails off, even as she wriggles away from him.
“Dad, calm down! I’m not seven. I just scraped up my leg.”
He sets her down with a reluctant sigh. “I’m going to take these damn bandages off so I can look at it, okay?”
“What? No, really I’m fine and—”
“I’ll be careful,” he growls, his hand already reaching for her leg.
He rips the bandage off so loudly I grimace. Poor kid.
I head into the bathroom and grab a couple fresh bandages. They never stick as well the second time around.
“Looks rough. I don’t think you need stitches, though,” he says, relief in his voice.
“Jeez Louise! I told you, it’s not that bad. Eliza cleaned it up hours ago. Give her some credit.”
“It wasn’t Eliza’s call to make,” he says coldly.
My breath stalls.
I’m right behind him when he says it.
Not that he cares, though, judging by the edge in his voice that’s all overprotective papa bear.
I don’t want to be mad at him. She’s probably never had anything this serious happen before so yeah, he’s panicked.
“Here.” I hand him the bandages since taping her up probably isn’t my place either.
He peels them and helps place them on her leg, passing me the dirty ones to discard. I start walking, but this time he follows me to the trash.
“What the hell were you thinking, Eliza?”
I stop, stomping the trash can pedal, and stare at him, too shocked to speak.
“How did this happen? You were watching her. You let this happen while you were with her?”
Oh, boy.
I have a sneaking suspicion I’m about to break that promise we made just days ago, when he loved me to mushy pieces and left me deliciously sore the next day.
That Cole, I could trust forever.
But the angry man with blue storms for eyes who’s staring right through me?
This Cole is a stranger.
“She was on her way to volunteer with me at the homeless camp. I wanted to come meet her, but she told me she was walking over from the library. She never showed up, so I went looking for her. Someone knocked her down and took her necklace before I ever showed up.”
“Fuck!” His face tightens into a grimace before his gaze resettles on me. “Why would you let her walk through a homeless camp alone? I know you’re not stupid.”
“Cole, it’s a park. You know the place. You had Dess and her friends working with us before, so I didn’t think it was an issue. It’s fine during the day, too. Plenty of people around. For the record, she was ambushed a few blocks away…”
“That was a city sanctioned charity event. Most of the patrons weren’t homeless.” He holds up a hand, his lip curled in anger. “Before you say any shit, I’m not trashing homeless people. You damn well know bad actors infiltrate their spaces sometimes, and desperate people sometimes do desperate fucking things. And why did you bring her here—of all places—after she was attacked?”
For the first time, his look scares me. I’ve seen him look hurt and annoyed and angry before—but never this close to broken.
Never like I’m the one responsible.
“It was closer than your house, Cole. Jesus.” I pause, swiping a hand across my face. “Look, she was exhausted, stressed out, and scared. She needed water. I even had the cops drive us home so we didn’t have to walk. But now I’m curious—what’s so wrong with this place?”
He stares at me.
“Eliza, goddammit. You live in spitting distance of weekly robberies, plus the occasional armed carjacking that gets somebody shot. This neighborhood is far from safe. Hell, you shouldn’t be here. But you’re a grown woman and you can make your own choices. My fifteen-year-old daughter damn sure can’t.”
Oh, the nerve.
I nod slowly, biting my tongue so hard I taste blood before I say, “Okay. I didn’t realize my locked, perfectly crime-free apartment isn’t good enough to fix up your hurt kid while you were still at the office jacking yourself off.”
His eyes bulge and he opens his mouth to fire back, but a small voice cuts him off.
“Eliza—” Destiny starts.
Oh, crap. Since I normally don’t have screaming matches here, it’s easy to forget just how small this space is.
I hold up my hand.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” I turn around and look at Destiny. “You’re always welcome here, if you’re allowed. That wasn’t directed at you, hon. But apparently, I made a big mistake by assuming you would be.”
Or I just didn’t realize I’m good enough to make your dad’s coffee and ride his dick.
But somehow, I’m not good enough in all the other ways a demanding, rich grump-ass like Cole Lancaster needs.
“Let me settle this for both of you,” he says softly, turning to Destiny. “You, young lady, are not allowed here without my permission. You’ve already been robbed. You’re not running around Seattle alone anymore in this crappy part of town or anywhere else.”
“God, Dad. Are you implying the robbers were homeless?” She looks at him with a brutal pout. “FYI, they weren’t. They stank like cologne and there wasn’t a speck of dirt on their white hoodies when they pushed me around.”
“Nobody should’ve fucking pushed you at all,” he mutters under his breath. Then he looks at me and shrugs. “She’s never been robbed outside my office or in our neighborhood. She always had Kate around, or Tom, or at least a friend.”
“You’re right to wonder, but I’m telling you, it’s not a battlezone hellscape here,” I say. “I went to that camp a few times every month until I met you— I’ve never come close to being robbed.”
“You don’t look like a target,” he snaps, looking away as soon as it’s out.
My jaw drops.
“What? What does that mean, Cole?”
He shrugs angrily, exuding pure insolence. “Only that if I were going to rob someone, I wouldn’t expect to make a lot off of you. Don’t take it personally. You travel light with your ID and a few mason jars of coffee, maybe a water bottle. You’re not a flashy girl sporting anything valuable.”
Yeah, he’s not explaining his way out of this hole.
My blood is about to froth over.
“I’ll have you know that Dakota freakin’ Burns and her billionaire hubby are there at least once a month. More before they had their baby, even. Would they make better targets? Pretty sure she’s walking around with six-figures of designer jewelry glued to her now.”
“Lincoln’s built like a fire truck and he never leaves her side. Your friend probably has enough sense not to go without him.”
My lips tense into a painful line. “I’ll tell you what she has sense for. She’ll kick him in the balls if he’s ever stupid enough to think she needs him like some sad little damsel in distress.”
“Dad, stop. You’re being a jerk!” Destiny adds.
“Stay out of this!” Cole warns.
Yeah, I’ve officially had enough, short of the ball-kicking he so deserves.
I start moving to the front door, loudly unlatching it just to prove to him that I have locks, and swing it open.
“You should go. Get her home, before I lose my shit,” I say, waiting for them.
“You’re kicking us out? Christ. Maybe you should calm down.” His voice is even, calm, and ice-cold as usual. He acts like I’m the problem and he’s not being a raging dick.
I glare at him and shake my head.
“My name is on the lease, last I checked. I don’t have to do anything you say in my place. Now go, before I rage-barf all over Dess. She doesn’t need that after today…”
“Eliza—” he starts, but I point to the hallway, my hand shaking.
“Go! How many times do I have to say it?”
He moves back to my sofa and scoops Destiny up again, settling her on her feet. She gives me an apologetic look as he ushers her to the door.
“Cole?” I call.
He looks at me over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Given your background, I’d think you might be more empathetic.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Not everyone comes home from the military to rich parents. You were lucky, you know that, right?”
He stares at me like he just doesn’t get it.
Of course not.
Rich guys won’t.
“A lot of the people down there we were serving coffee to came back hurt or had PTSD or both. Lincoln Burns’ best friend lived there until Linc gave him a job. But not everyone has a best friend who can hire them. So, try to be a little more understanding. Also, get the hell out of my house.” You fucking snob, I add in my head.
“Eliza, fuck. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. It’s just—”
“How did you mean it? The same way you stopped just short of calling my place a shithole?” I fold my arms, glaring.
“I don’t think bad things about you or people on the streets. I just don’t need my teenage daughter taking any chances with her safety before she’s old enough to decide what she wants.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, fixing his gaze on me.
I scoff. “Whatever. You know the biggest ways girls from affluent families get hurt is usually with an insider, right? A bad family member, a friend…”
“That’s not what I meant. She just got robbed, Eliza. Can you cool it with your smartass lectures?” He looks up at the ceiling, his jaw so tense it could pop. “I told you, I worry about you here, too. So, yeah, of course I wonder about my daughter’s safety in this neighborhood. Today is proof I’m right.”
“I don’t need to be rescued from poverty, Cole. Go use your superhero act on someone who cares.” I’ve been way more broke than this, but right now, I don’t feel like saying it. I point to the hallway again. “Bye.”
He starts walking, keeping his head down like a scolded cat.
I slam the door behind him and lock up, pressing my back to the thick wood.
There’s only one thing left to do now.
Collapse on my bed and cry.
I am so, so stupid.
I knew better than to get involved with another stuck-up suit who thinks he craps diamonds. He didn’t play me quite like Derek, but did he play me?
And wasn’t it my own fault for ever thinking he’d stoop down to care about an average, unfancy girl like me?
Why do I do it? Why?
I fell too hard, too fast, and with no idea how to pick myself up again.
An hour later, my phone pings.
Maybe it’s Cole.
Though the logical part of my brain quickly remembers it’s better if it isn’t.
I tap the screen anyway, holding my breath.
Cole: Will I see you at work on Monday?
Ah, work. His precious brand. That would be what he cares about and not the glass heart he just punched into dust.
Eliza: Who cares? Your scorched line—sorry “campfire”—is basically good to go. Pat yourself on the back and call it a day.
Cole: So, you won’t be in?
Oh my God. I’m about to find a way to break the laws of physics so I can reach through the screen and smack him.
Do you check up on all of your employees on Saturday nights to verify their Monday plans? I send back bitterly.
Ha. It takes him a solid minute to respond to that one.
Cole: Only the ones I love.
Oof.
Mammoth freaking oof.
He loves me? After all of this? And he has to say it now after slamming the door in my face?
I hate how I get all squishy inside. I guess the joke is on me after all and I’m the one who’s playing myself with these men.
Eliza: How do they usually answer?
Cole: So far, they’re not very forthcoming.
Eliza: I might need a wellness day. Mostly so I can get an appointment with my employment lawyer to file a harassment suit.
Cole: You’re not serious?
I’m not, but the joke’s on him.
Eliza: We’ll see. Depends on if I survive the many horrors waiting outside my front door. Do I need a bodyguard for that?
Cole: Eliza, if you were a parent, you’d understand.
Eliza: LOL. Right. Because it’s not like I care about her or anything.
Cole: I’m out. I tried to be reasonable.
Eliza: Only because your head is that far up your ass.
At least he’s a man of his word.
Because he doesn’t respond to that last hit.
He just leaves me alone in this chasm of silence where I wonder how much of that was hot air—and how much he ever loved me, after all.
