I chuckle, accepting the coffee and treat as he hands it over the counter. “Not bad. Had a no-show today, though.”
Internally, I cringe at the nonchalance in my words because I know Carlie’s already so much more than that.
“This the new client you were talking about on Sunday?” Dylan asks, leaning in with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah, actually,” I nod. “I think she’s sore but just doesn’t want to say it. But who knows? She said something about unexpected housework.”
“Women. They’re unpredictable, man,” he scoffs, sliding his glasses up his nose. “Speaking of unpredictable women … Any new hookups I should be aware of?”
I roll my eyes, taking a sip of the hot coffee. “Still on that, huh?”
“Always.” He flashes me a wide grin. “After last time, I figure I need to be proactive from here on out. So, who’s the new client? Anyone I should hunt down after work and ask out?”
I pause, coffee halfway to my lips, the steam tickling at my nose.
“Nah, she’s ...different,” I find myself saying, the words feeling both protective and foreign. “Definitely not your type.”
I try to laugh it off, but a knot forms in my gut.
Dylan’s eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise. “Different, huh? That sounds to me like Adam Foxx, the man who’s seen it all, might be intrigued. What’s her name?”
I swallow my coffee, the sting of it burns all the way down. “Carlie.”
“Huh, that name’s familiar.” His eyes go distant for a moment. “I swear there’s a Carlie that comes in here once in a while.”
“I’m sure there’s more than one Carlie in the whole of Duluth, Dyl,” I say, matter-of-factly.
He shrugs it off with a laugh. “Yeah, suppose you’re right. Regardless …”
“How’s business?” I interject, with the hope of deflecting the conversation away from anything too personal.
Dylan shrugs, slicing another piece of banana bread for the display case. “Good, good. You know, the usual crowd. Your brother swung by yesterday and said you’re still moping about Jillian. Tell me that’s not true.”
“What?” I sputter. “No.Hellno.”
“Not what Brian says,” Dylan presses, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “He thinks you’re not over her.”
I shake my head, a potent mix of sibling annoyance and general amusement bubbling up inside me. “Brian’s got a big mouth. And as for Jillian, she’s the past. It’s just … I’m so sick of her flaunting her new relationship around the gym. Besides, whatever Brian said—our conversation wasn’t even really about that. He thinks I need to put more energy into Foxx Fitness.”
“He’s not wrong,” Dylan says, giving me one of his knowing,‘I’ve been around the block as a barista,’looks. “Maybe channeling your energy into something positive or brand new is just what you need. But back to this Carlie …”
I groan.Loudly.
“Are you sure there’s nothing there? Seems like she’s got you thinking differently,” he continues, giving zero fucks that I’m obviously not into this line of questioning.
I open my mouth to deny it, but the chime of the doorbell interrupts me. We both turn to see the door swing open, and in walks Jillian, as if summoned by our conversation about complicated women.
Her eyes lock onto me, a storm brewing in their depths. She strides over, her heels—definitely not workout-ready—click against the tiled floor like a metronome ticking down to an inevitable confrontation.
Her latest boyfriend, a guy who’s more brawn than brains, trails behind her like a shadow.
“Adam,” she announces, loud enough for half the coffee shop to hear. “We need to talk.”
Dylan raises his eyebrows, looking from me to Jillian and back again—his unspoken question hanging in the air.
I set my coffee down, bracing myself.
“And what exactly would you like to talk about?” I say, keeping my tone even—almost bored. I know how much shelovesthat.