Free Hourglass by Myra McEntire Page B

around, and dropped me to my feet.
    “Whose fault is that?” I shouted as he walked up the stairs to the back door, his spine stiff. “Not mine. Maybe you should go ahead and tell me whatever it is you think I can’t handle—have you ever thought of that?”
    But the door slammed, and I was talking to thin air.

Chapter 12
    T he next morning I stopped by Murphy’s Law for a little liquid energy and a chat with Lily. Lack of sleep was becoming an unfortunate occurrence in my life. I briefly considered ordering chamomile tea. Supposedly, it helped with anxiety, and I had plenty.
    Lily stood behind the counter. She saw me coming and called out my usual order. “Double Cubano and the biggest empanada we have.”
    Chamomile?
    Right.
    When Lily wouldn’t let me pay, I shoved my money in the tip jar and walked to the front of the shop to sink into an overstuffed pumpkin-colored chair. Outside, a man wearing khaki pants and a T-shirt bearing the logo of a landscaping service pulled summer annuals from the intermittently spaced planters lining the street. He replaced them with delicate pansies in dusky crimson and two shades of purple. A Davy Crockett look-alike stood beside him, his calves disappearing into the middle of the planter. Rips and solid objects didn’t really mix. I was glad Davy was out of his century and not just fashion challenged.
    The coonskin cap really would’ve been over the top.
    As I watched them both I noticed a sign taped up on the outside of the plate-glass window of the coffee shop. The sun shone at the perfect angle to make the thick black words stand out clearly: HELP WANTED . The heavens broke open. I wanted a job so I wouldn’t have to ask Thomas for extra spending money, and my favorite coffee shop in the world was hiring. Could I get a job smelling and selling the elixir of life?
    Lily brought over a tiny espresso cup and my empanada and then lowered herself gracefully onto the edge of the chair across from me.
    “Why didn’t you tell me you were hiring?” I asked.
    She frowned, and I gestured toward the sign. I watched her read it through the glass, backward letters and all. “I didn’t know Abi decided to hire anyone. I thought she was going to keep working me to death to save money.”
    “Your powers of observation astound me. One of your many superpowers.” She frowned at me. Needing to be on her good side, I changed the subject. “You think your abuela would hire me?”
    “I don’t know why not. Coffee runs through your veins instead of blood. I think it stunted your growth.” I looked for something to throw at her, but the empanada was the only thing I could see, and I wasn’t willing to give it up.
    “Is she here?” I struggled to get out of the chair. It seemed to have eaten half of my body. “Can I talk to her?”
    “She ran over to the bank for some change. And why are you even asking? You know if you want the job, it’s yours.” Lily twisted her long dark hair up on top of her head, fanning herself with her order pad, looking more like Cleopatra on her barge than a barista at a coffee shop. She carried glamour as casually as some women carry a purse. “You think you can start tomorrow? I need a break.”
    “Only if you can free me from this beast of a chair,” I said, wiggling as I tried to get some leverage. “What do you feed this thing? Customers?”
    “Relax.” Lily let her hair fall around her shoulders and grinned at me. “I kind of like having a captive audience. How’s it going with Thomas and Dru?”
    Since I wasn’t going anywhere without help, I took a sip of my espresso, sighing with pleasure. Rumor had it Murphy’s Law was the best place in the States besides Miami to get a Cubano , an espresso shot sweetened with sugar while brewed. “Better than I expected. They’re pregnant.”
    “Pregnant? That’s great,” she said before tilting her head and narrowing her eyes at me. “Or is it?”
    “It is. Dru threatened to put me under house