Page 4 of Library or Lattes?

“Excuse me, miss, I’ll take another coffee.”

“Do you have any more of that pumpkin pie?”

“Do you deliver?”

I switched on my customer smile and got to work.

Sometime in the middle of the morning, the bell above the door rang again and I looked up, smile already in place. There, right in front of me, was Carter Blake.

Carter had graduated like two years ago and gone off to college. I want to say Penn State? He had been Oak High royalty, and now he was apparently gracing us with his presence for fall break. All of us were totally in love with him—me, Krista, Avery. Even Lennie admitted that if she was into guys, she would have been drooling along with us. Carter looked exactly the same as he always had. Except … better? If that was even possible. Tall, with dark, tousled hair, gray sweatpants, a gray sweater, and the kind of smile that made most girls, and some guys, lose the ability to speak.

He walked up to the counter, and I wished Geoff wouldn’t take so long stacking boxes in the back.

“How can I help you?” I said, proud of myself for using my words.

“Willa? Willa Taylor? Oak High?” Carter said. And did I forget to say that I was most girls? Because now my words were stuck.

“Mmhmm. Oak High. Coffee?” What the hell?

“Espresso, please. Serious deadline for my midterms next week.” Carter mimed wiping his brow and I forced myself not to sing the lyrics to the Sabrina Carpenter song that had been playing in my head since he said the word espresso.

“Coming up.” I avoided all eye contact, made the coffee, and handed it to him on a little plate.

“You still run track?” he asked, and I almost dropped the plate before he grabbed it.

“Track? Running? Sure I do, do you? I mean do you still play football?” I just about managed.

“I gave it up, actually. I wanted to concentrate on school, it’s a whole different ball game now.” He laughed at his own joke. “Cute hair, by the way. Like that girl from Stranger Things.”

Carter Blake just complimented my hair. He remembers that I run.

“Thanks, you too.”

He laughed then, but not in a mean way. In a why-is-his-laugh-even-sexier-than-his-smile way?

You too?

You too?!

I wished the floor would swallow me whole, but there was no time for my humiliation. The Little Acorn was getting really packed, with locals, with tourists, with hot college boys from Christmas past …

The bell dinged again. Yet another customer. Geoff was going to have to figure out how we could make more space in here.

This time it was Mrs. Porter, who’d lost her lovely husband two years ago. They’d always been together, and it broke my heart to see her alone. Every weekend now, she sat on the barstool at the window and stared out at the passersby. I’d bring her coffee after coffee, and everyone would turn a blind eye to the hip flask that she’d take out of her pocket occasionally. The only time in two years when I’d almost seen her smile was on one of the occasional late Thursday nights when Buster Logan sat at the piano, playing Billy Joel songs. Then I remembered Mr. Porter’s funeral and how Buster had played then too, and my heart broke all over again.

I took a deep breath, brought her a coffee, turned my blind eye, and breathed in the safe, familiar cinnamon-scented air of the Little Acorn.

My feet ached by the time I got around to taking a break. I made myself a pumpkin spice latte and sat down at the little wooden table outside, as usual, taking out my phone automatically. I was ready for Lennie’s latest messages, but before I could click on them, an email notification caught my attention.

I clicked it. Then almost spat out my coffee.

Subject: Estate of Ms. Lisa May Vaughn—

Important information regarding distribution of assets.

RAY & BLACK ASSOCIATES Attorneys at Law 529

Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10022