Free Never the Bride by Rene Gutteridge Page A

all like coffee.”
    Nicole leans in. “What are you doing?”
    “Ordering.”
    “For yourself?”
    “Yes. I’m tired.”
    “You hate coffee.”
    “I’m desperate.” Oh, how I wish I could explain how desperate. Really, I am hoping that this legal form of drug will somehow get the blood flowing back to my brain. Caffeine is supposed to help migraines, so why not hallucinations?
    Nicole looks very worried. “The last time you tried espresso you were shaking so badly you couldn’t type.”
    “I’ve got the presentation this morning, and I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.”
    The barista clears her throat. “So, you want to try a mocha, extra chocolate?”
    “Sure. Tall, please.”
    As Nicole orders, I wait for mine and stare at the wall of mugs, waiting for him to vaporize into the room—but nothing happens. I glance around at the customers, searching for his face.
    Nicole slides up beside me. “You know, I think it’s a big deal that Mr. Coston is asking you to do this. It means he believes in you.”
    “Ten years later.”
    “He’s not an easy man to work for, but he’s a good businessman.”
    Our coffee is ready. I dump sugar into Mr. Coston’s, and we head back to the office. I sip pure putridness. The extra chocolate is barely helping.
    “You haven’t mentioned how your Valentine’s event went,” Nicole says. “You were supposed to call me.”
    I cough. “How do people spend this much on coffee every day? Three bucks? You could buy a sandwich!”
    “You’re avoiding the topic, so I have to assume it went poorly.”
    I glance behind me. I feel like I’m being followed but see no one. “It was fine. Four or five guys picked me. None of them my type.”
    “Sorry, babe. Better luck next time. But you know what, I’m proud of you. I mean, you go to extremes, but at least you’re not waiting around for Prince Charming to show up on your doorstep, you know? I think a lot of women have this false expectation that theone that is meant for them is just going to
poof!
appear out of nowhere.”
    “Oh…uh, yeah. That’s, um, ridiculous.”
    We arrive back at the office. I’m about to head to Mr. Coston’s to deliver his coffee when Nicole grabs my arm. She is staring at the banner. “Why is the exclamation scribbled out?”
    I shrug. “It just didn’t fit.”
    “Why?”
    “It’s too much excitement for me in the morning.”
    “Honey maybe you need to start drinking coffee if that’s how your mornings are going.”
    I’m sipping as fast as one can sip a hot nasty beverage, but I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. I check the time and hurry to deliver Mr. Coston’s coffee. I place it on his desk. Normally he doesn’t even look up, but this morning he says, “I bet you had some trouble sleeping last night, didn’t you?”
    “Pardon me?” I about drop my coffee.
    “Nerves?”
    “Huh?”
    His eyebrows flatten out. “About today. The presentation.”
    By “presentation,” Mr. Coston is referring to the thirty seconds I’ll stand and give a short report on listings to the senior agents. “Oh. Yes. Up all night.”
    “Don’t be nervous.” He smiles. “You’ve been with me a long time, Jessie. I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if I didn’t think you were ready.”
    I try to play the role. “It’s an honor, sir.” Yes, occasionally, I have been known to suck up to the boss.
    Twenty minutes later we are filing into the conference room. Three senior agents from the other offices, all in white shirts and gray ties, sit on one side of the table, looking as if they’d rather be somewhere else. I never can remember their names because they only come in once or twice a year. Usually I’m there taking meeting notes, and I just call them Larry, Moe, and Curly in shorthand. But that small detail of their names might be helpful today.
    I lean in to Nicole, who is sitting up straight with arms on the table and hands connected at the fingertips. She