Zara
“ T his way,” Devon slips his tender hand into mine and leads me down the narrow Coffee Loft corridor toward Mrs. Whitehead’s office. His chuckle gives away his intent. I’m not the only one offering up surprises today.
As we enter the office, I notice Mrs. Whitehead perched on the edge of her desk with a sly smile on her face. My eyes are immediately drawn to the brightly wrapped package with my name written in elegant script on top of it. “Oh my God,” I gasp, remembering the gift Devon had left with Mrs. Whitehead. His instructions for me not to open it until I hear back from the Magic and to do it in Mrs. Whitehead’s presence. The past few days have been a blur—from quitting my job to being offered a full design contract and planning a surprise party for Devon. “I can’t believe I forgot about this gift in all the chaos.”
Devon’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he stands next to Mrs. Whitehead. “You were a little busy,” Devon jokes. “This is actually better because now I get to see your reaction.”
I try to suppress a smile as she hands me a small box wrapped in gold and white. It was his departing gift, given after I had discovered his secret and asked him to leave. Now, standing in the office, I feel a mix of emotions as I hold the box in my hands. “Are you sure?” I float the half question in his direction. So much has changed between us since I asked him to leave. I have no idea what could be in the box and wonder if he has any second thoughts about it.
As I hesitantly unwrap the package, the sound of tearing paper fills the air. Underneath lies a rectangular box, about the size of a fancy watchcase. My heart pounds as I lift the lid and see a long, gold rectangle about two inches wide and six inches long. Devon nods at me encouragingly, and with trembling fingers, I gently lift it from the box.
“Looks like the clumsy barista put it in upside down,” Mrs. Whitehead says, peering over my shoulder.
My uneasy fingers flip the precious metal. An inscription—Reserved for Zara Williams—This is where the Magic happens.
Devon stands before me, beaming with pride and admiration. He’s just a foot away, but it feels like he’s wrapped me in an invisible embrace, his love and support radiating towards me. “It’s a tiny plaque,” he says, “so the world knows of your greatness.” He twists toward Mrs. Whitehead. “I’m hoping you agree to let me install it at the table. A monument for everyone to see.”
“Like one of those park bench inscriptions?” I think of the cute dedications I’ve seen at the local park. Commemorating a long-time resident at their favorite place in the world.
“Something like that but even better.” Devon rubs the back of his neck, and I sense he can’t wait to snatch the plaque from me and install it out at the desk. “More like a VIP all-access pass for you. No matter when you come to the café, your spot will be waiting for you.”
Mrs. Whitehead steps in, adding her own touch to the moment. “And when you’re not here,” she chimes in with a smile, “others looking for inspiration will sit in your chair and hear your story. Your talent, your dedication, and order your latte.” We share a laugh together, basking in the glow of this special honor.
Devon’s voice grows softer yet fills with passion as he speaks again. “When others come to the café after a hard day at work—when their boss doesn’t see their gifts, when they’re tired of hearing ‘no’ and need an answer to the question ‘why not me’—they’ll come. They’ll sit in your chair. And they’ll be inspired.”
I’m overwhelmed with emotion as Devon paints a picture of me I never knew he possessed. The only other person who sees me in such a positive light is my sister. I lean into Devon for a hug, feeling grateful and loved. “And you left this for me,” I whisper, “Even after I said all those horrible things to you. Even knowing you might not see me again. Even before you knew about the contract?” He’s always believed in me, even when I had doubts about him.
His kiss on the top of my head sends shivers down my spine. And when the words, “You were destined to win it” leave his lips, I feel a surge of disbelief and gratitude wash over me. Devon’s unwavering faith in me has never faltered, even when I doubted myself. “The Magic contract was a foregone conclusion. With or without me, you were destined to succeed. David is a visionary, and he recognizes greatness.” Devon never once gave up on me. “And as for us, you’re right. I didn’t know what our future would hold, but I realized it didn’t change what I thought of you. I totally understood your reaction to my actions. But I had to let you know what I thought about you—regardless of our future.”
Mrs. Whitehead joins the group hug. “This place, the Coffee Loft, is special. I know how much it means to you, and how much you mean to it. So, I’m honored to place your plaque on the table. I’m honored you’ve chosen this place as your second home. And I look forward to you shouting out this shop from the stage when you accept your designer of the year award in the future.”
I’m smothered with love. The warmth of the people in my life is exactly what I need as I prepare to enter a new world. “I love you guys.” A tinge of sadness hits me; things will soon change. I have a brand-new company to start, and Devon will be buried in a movie shoot that will last months.
“We love you, too,” Mrs. Whitehead says, pressing a hard kiss to my cheek. “Let me go and check on your sister and her friends.”
I mouth the words Thank You through watery eyes at her. I lift my chin and watch her exit through the office door. Devon’s arms remain wrapped around my shoulders. He’s not going anywhere. He’s my constant, my rock, and I’m grateful for his presence in my life.
His first kiss is on my cheek, a precursor to what’s to come. He wants me; he’s never stopped wanting me. I’ve run around all day like a crazed woman to show him how much I want him too. The next kiss is mine. A soft kiss on his lips to let him know I want more. I need more. His next kiss is slow and tender. Our lips get reacquainted, a welcome-back kiss wrapped in a promise of future love kiss.
There’s nothing to pretend about what we’re doing. He sees me, and I open my eyes to fully see him.
“So, Mister Hollywood, with my new contract with the Magic, I have to hire staff,” I tease him. The idea formulates in my head as I speak. “One of my most important hires will be a model for the clothing line.” I press my palm to his chest. “Someone with an athletic body, very well-coordinated.” His chuckle warms my heart. “He must look irresistible in shortie-shorts.” I giggle and let my hand roam unrestricted across his chest, enjoying the moment. “I’m willing to work around their schedule. We can do shoots a week at a time, if they just happen to be busy with other projects and such.”
He smirks at me. “You mean like during postproduction and between projects.”
“Umm humm, something like that.” I tip up on my toes and place a soft kiss on his chin. “Do you know anyone like that?”
“I’m not so sure. The person I’m thinking of is a klutz. He’ll look foolish.”
“I’ll take a fool with a good heart. Does he have one?”
“With you, the biggest.”
I chew on my lip, drawing his gaze to my lips. “Do you think he’d be interested—in me?”
He nods. “He’s been falling from the moment he met you.”
My breath hitches. “Same.”
“Do we have a match?”
I giggle and pull him in for a tight hug. “Like coffee and cream.”
He presses a kiss to my neck. “Like espresso and biscotti.”
“Like hot chocolate on a snowy winter day.”
“Like macchiato and a good book.” We share two more kisses.
“Like me…” I dangle the tease, hoping he reads my mind.
“And you.”
He does.
He gets me.
I tip forward, my lips an inch from his. We share matching words before kissing. “Like me and you.”
***
Thank you for reading Grounds for Romance – The Coffee Loft Series: Fall Collection).