The Man Who Got Me Coffee

I had a problem.

Actually, I had several problems, but one of them was currently sitting on my couch while I stared at my phone like it had personally betrayed me.

Unknown: Someone who knows what happened that night.

I read the message again.

Then I locked my phone.

Then I unlocked it.

Then I considered throwing it out the window.

Unfortunately, my phone was expensive, and I wasn't financially stable enough to let mysterious strangers ruin my investment.

So I did the next best thing.

I called Damien.

He answered on the second ring.

"Miss me already?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Ouch. Good afternoon to you too."

"It's afternoon."

"That's what I said."

I rolled my eyes.

"Damien, did you tell anyone we were meeting at the diner?"

"No. Why?"

I swallowed.

"Someone knew."

The teasing disappeared from his voice.

"What do you mean?"

I explained the messages, reading each one aloud.

By the time I finished, Damien had gone completely silent.

"Damien?"

"I'm here."

"Say something."

"Take screenshots. Save everything. Don't respond to the number again."

"I already asked who they were."

He sighed.

"Of course you did."

"Excuse me, I was curious!"

"And curiosity is going to put you in an early grave."

I gasped.

"That is a horrible thing to say to your best friend!"

"I'm sorry." His voice softened. "I didn't mean it like that."

I went quiet.

After a moment, he continued.

"I'm just worried about you, Ava. This isn't funny anymore."

"I know."

"Have you told anyone else?"

"No."

"Good. I'll look into it."

I frowned.

"How?"

"I have a few people I can speak to. People who might know something about what happened years ago."

"Natalie?"

"Maybe."

I hesitated.

"Damien, what if this has nothing to do with Natalie?"

"Then we'll figure that out too."

There was that word again.

We.

For some reason, it made me feel a little better.

"Okay," I said.

"Okay?"

"Yes. But if you discover that your mysterious past includes a secret twin, an underground treasure map, or a hidden royal inheritance, I want to be informed immediately."

He laughed.

"I'll keep you updated, Princess."

"Don't call me Princess."

"Of course, Princess."

I ended the call.

Then I sat back and stared at the ceiling.

I needed a distraction.

A proper distraction.

Something that didn't involve mysterious women, missing documents, or anonymous people who apparently had nothing better to do than monitor my lunch appointments.

I needed coffee.

And possibly a new personality.

---

By three o'clock, I was sitting in a café near my apartment, attempting to convince myself that a chocolate muffin counted as emotional support.

It wasn't working.

I took another bite.

Still nothing.

"This muffin is disappointing," I muttered.

"That's a serious accusation against a perfectly innocent muffin."

I looked up.

A man stood beside my table, holding a takeaway coffee and wearing a smile that suggested he'd never had a truly terrible day in his life.

He had dark hair, warm brown eyes, and a face that was annoyingly easy to look at.

Not that I was looking.

I was observing.

For research purposes.

"Sorry?" I asked.

He gestured toward my muffin.

"You look personally offended by it."

"I am. I paid good money for this."

He glanced at the muffin.

"Maybe it can sense your hostility."

I stared at him.

Then I laughed.

A real laugh.

The first one that hadn't been caused by Damien's ridiculousness in nearly two days.

The stranger smiled.

"There. Much better."

I narrowed my eyes.

"Do you make a habit of criticizing strangers' pastries?"

"Only when they look like they're about to file a formal complaint."

I glanced at the empty chair opposite me.

"Are you going to stand there all day?"

"Depends. Is that an invitation to sit?"

"It's an invitation to stop blocking the light."

He pulled out the chair.

"I'll take it."

"I'm Ethan," he said, offering his hand.

"Ava."

"Nice to meet you, Ava."

"You too. Although I should warn you that I'm not usually this friendly."

"Really?"

"No. I'm actually much worse."

He laughed.

"I'll keep that in mind."

He glanced at my muffin again.

"Would you like me to buy you another one?"

I gasped.

"Are you implying that I can't afford my own muffin?"

"No. I'm implying that yours looks terrible, and I feel morally obligated to help."

I considered him.

"That's a very strange moral obligation."

"I'm a complicated man."

"Clearly."

He stood.

"Chocolate?"

I paused.

"Chocolate."

"Excellent. I was hoping you'd say that."

He walked toward the counter before I could object.

I watched him go.

Then I shook my head.

This was ridiculous.

I had been dealing with suspicious messages and a mysterious photograph all day, and now I was sitting in a café judging a stranger's pastry-related decisions.

Perhaps I was finally losing my mind.

At least this particular development came with chocolate.

Ethan returned a few minutes later with two fresh muffins and another coffee.

He placed them on the table.

I stared.

"You bought two?"

"I didn't know which one you'd prefer."

I looked at the muffins.

Then at him.

"You realize you've set a dangerous precedent."

"How so?"

"Now I'll expect every man I meet to provide emergency baked goods."

He laughed.

"Then I hope the next one is prepared."

I smiled before I could stop myself.

And just like that, I found myself having a normal conversation with someone who didn't know anything about Damien, Zara, Natalie, or the mysterious mess that had taken over my life.

It was refreshing.

Almost suspiciously refreshing.

---

Ethan turned out to be easy to talk to.

He asked questions without making me feel interrogated. He listened when I answered. And unlike certain people I could name, he didn't turn every conversation into an opportunity to insult me.

Although, to be fair, Damien's insults were usually deserved.

Usually.

"So," Ethan said, stirring his coffee, "what do you do when you're not having dramatic arguments with baked goods?"

I smiled.

"I have a life, you know."

"I was beginning to wonder."

"I'm very busy."

"Doing what?"

"Important things."

"Such as?"

"Mind your business."

He laughed.

"You're impossible."

"You've known me for fifteen minutes. Imagine how exhausting I am after a month."

"I look forward to finding out."

I blinked.

He smiled innocently.

I looked away, suddenly interested in the crumbs on my plate.

Okay.

That was unexpected.

And slightly embarrassing.

Not because I'd never received attention from a man before.

But because it had been a while since I'd spoken to someone new without feeling like I needed to watch my back.

Ethan didn't know me.

He didn't know about my fake relationship.

He didn't know that my best friend was hiding something.

He didn't know that someone had been watching me.

For once, I didn't have to explain anything.

I could simply be Ava.

The girl who loved chocolate muffins and terrible jokes.

The girl who had once cried because Damien accidentally deleted her favourite playlist.

The girl who was beginning to suspect that her life had become far too complicated for someone who couldn't even keep a houseplant alive.

"So," Ethan said, interrupting my thoughts, "are you seeing anyone?"

I nearly choked on my coffee.

He immediately reached for a napkin.

"Sorry! That was probably too direct."

"No, it's fine."

I coughed once.

Then again.

"Just trying to avoid drowning in coffee."

He waited until I recovered.

I considered my answer.

Technically, I was dating Damien.

Except I wasn't.

Except everyone thought I was.

Except the entire arrangement was designed to convince Damien's ex that he had moved on.

Which meant explaining it would take approximately forty-five minutes and probably require a flowchart.

"Sort of," I finally said.

Ethan tilted his head.

"Sort of?"

"It's complicated."

He nodded.

"That usually means yes, no, or please don't ask me any more questions."

I laughed.

"In my case, it's all three."

"Fair enough."

He didn't push.

I appreciated that.

A few minutes later, he checked his watch.

"I should probably let you get back to your afternoon."

I tried not to look disappointed.

I failed.

"Already?"

He smiled.

"Would you prefer I stay?"

I narrowed my eyes.

"You're dangerously confident for a man who buys muffins for strangers."

"And yet, you're still talking to me."

"Unfortunately."

He laughed and stood.

Then he pulled a small card from his wallet and placed it on the table.

"My number. In case you ever want to continue our debate about the best chocolate muffins in the city."

I looked at the card.

ETHAN BROOKS.

A phone number.

Nothing else.

I picked it up.

"And what if I don't?"

"Then I'll have to accept the tragic loss of your opinion."

"How will you survive?"

"One day at a time."

I smiled.

He gave me a small wave and headed for the door.

Just before leaving, he turned around.

"By the way, Ava?"

I looked up.

"Yes?"

"Your muffin wasn't that bad. You were just being dramatic."

I gasped.

"Get out!"

He laughed and disappeared through the door.

I stared after him.

Then I looked at the card in my hand.

A slow smile spread across my face.

Maybe, just maybe, the universe had decided to give me something normal for once.

A pleasant conversation.

A new acquaintance.

And a man who understood the importance of chocolate.

It was a promising start.

---

I was halfway home when my phone rang.

Damien.

I answered.

"Hello, troublemaker."

"Where are you?"

I glanced around.

"On my way home. Why?"

"Did you go to the café near your apartment today?"

I stopped walking.

"Yes."

A pause.

"Did you meet anyone?"

I frowned.

"How do you know I went there?"

"I called your apartment. You weren't home."

"That doesn't answer my question."

He sighed.

"Someone I know mentioned seeing you there."

My stomach tightened.

"Who?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, Damien. It matters when people keep appearing to know where I am."

He was silent.

Then he said, "You're right. I'm sorry."

I wasn't expecting that.

I looked down at Ethan's card, still tucked between my fingers.

"Why are you asking?"

"I just want to make sure you're being careful."

"I'm always careful."

He made a skeptical sound.

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Make that noise."

"What noise?"

"The noise you make when you're about to call me reckless."

I laughed despite myself.

"Fine. I'm being careful."

"Good."

He hesitated.

Then he asked, "Did you meet someone?"

I stared at the card.

For reasons I couldn't explain, I didn't want to discuss Ethan yet.

Maybe because it had been nice to have something that belonged only to me.

A conversation Damien wasn't part of.

A moment that didn't revolve around our fake relationship or his mysterious past.

"Just a guy who bought me a muffin."

Silence.

Then Damien said, "A guy?"

I smiled.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

"Yes, Damien. A guy. A male human being. An adult of the opposite sex."

"I know what a guy is, Ava."

"Wonderful. I was worried."

"Who is he?"

I stopped smiling.

There it was again.

That tone.

Protective.

Suspicious.

And, frankly, none of his business.

"His name is Ethan."

"Do you know him?"

"I met him today."

"And you accepted food from a complete stranger?"

I stared at the sky.

"Would you prefer I starve?"

"Ava!"

"I'm joking!"

He exhaled sharply.

"Just be careful, okay?"

I softened a little.

"I will."

"And don't give him personal information."

"Damien, I know how to talk to people."

"I know. I'm just saying—"

"I know."

We fell silent.

Then he said, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

I smiled faintly.

"Probably."

"Good. And Ava?"

"Yes?"

"Don't forget about our fake anniversary dinner on Friday."

I groaned.

"How could I forget? It's the highlight of my deeply fictional romantic life."

He laughed.

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart."

"Goodbye, idiot."

I ended the call.

Then I looked at Ethan's card again.

Something told me my life was about to get even more complicated.

I just hoped the complications would come with better muffins.

I slipped the card into my bag and continued walking.

For the first time in days, I wasn't thinking about Natalie, anonymous messages, or whatever secret Damien was keeping from me.

I was thinking about a charming stranger, a surprisingly good conversation, and whether I should text him.

Maybe I would.

After all, what harm could come from getting to know someone new?

I had no idea how much that one decision would eventually change my life.