Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The card Talia gave her had migrated from Seraphina’s coat pocket to the zip compartment of her bag. Seraphina Voss did not keep things out of sentiment. She kept things because they were useful, and a phone number, technically, counted as useful. She ignored the fact that this was just another way for her to say she had enjoyed Talia’s comments at the boutique and would probably enjoy her company.

She texted on a Thursday night. Technically, Talia had said to call, but she was pretty sure she wouldn’t mind.

“This is Seraphina. From the boutique.”

The reply came fast.

“Knew you’d cave eventually. Coffee Saturday? There’s a place on Fifth, they don’t hover and rush you out after twenty minutes like every other coffee shop in this city seems contractually obligated to do.”

“I’m not caving. I’m being neighborly.”

“Sure you are. Ten o’clock. Don’t be late, I get twitchy waiting alone in public, I start inventing tragic backstories for strangers.”

“I’m never late.”

“We’ll see.”

⸻

She was late.

Seven minutes, because she had decided to press snooze on her alarm for five more minutes. She recognized Talia’s curls as soon as she entered the coffee shop.

“There she is.” Talia kicked the chair out from under the table across from her. “I made up an entire backstory for the guy by the window while I waited. Divorce lawyer. Or getting divorced. Possibly both, that’d save him on separate consultations.”

“That’s unkind to him.”

“It’s efficient.” Talia nodded at the table, where a second cup already sat waiting. “I ordered you something. I may have assumed what you’d prefer.”

“Depends what it is.”

“Black coffee, no sugar. You had that serious black coffee vibe the last time I saw you.”

Seraphina pulled the cup toward her without drinking.

“You’d think. I take milk, actually. Sugar too, on the days I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone.”

Talia looked genuinely thrown.

“Get out. You do not seem like a milk person. You seem like someone who takes her coffee the way she takes meetings.”

“Sorry to catfish you.”

“I’m happy to be catfished this time around. Hang on.”

She twisted around and flagged the barista down with two fingers.

“You really don’t have to fix it.”

“I do, actually. I have a thing about getting people’s orders wrong.” The new cup landed in front of Seraphina. “My mom ran a diner. I grew up memorizing regulars’ orders before they sat down. It’s basically a nervous system reflex at this point, and it bothers me when I miss.”

She said it quickly, then looked at Seraphina.

“Milk. Sugar or no.”

“One. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s coffee, not open-heart surgery.” She smiled. “Report back. How is it?”

Seraphina drank. Sweeter than she let herself have most days, which, on a Saturday, felt like the entire point of Saturdays existing.

“Really good, actually.”

“I’ll take really good. I was only aiming for good.” Talia wrapped both hands around her own cup and studied her for a moment. “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if it’s weird.”

“Go on.”

“Why’d you actually text me? It’s been a while since the boutique. Seems like you almost talked yourself out of it entirely.”

Seraphina turned her cup a slow quarter turn before answering.

“Almost didn’t. I’m not really someone who does this.”

“Coffee?”

“Any of it. Making plans with someone I don’t have a reason to know.”

“See, I love that.” Talia leaned onto her elbows. “Everyone I know has a reason to know everyone else. It’s all networking wearing a friendship costume. I liked that you didn’t have one. I definitely didn’t have one either. I just thought you looked like a woman who seemed like a damsel in distress. I happen to like damsels in distress.”

“You certainly had no problems voicing your thoughts in front of a stranger. Twice.”

“I have no volume control when I’m right.”

Talia wrapped both hands around her own cup, settling in.

“So. What do you actually do? You had that look yesterday. Well, the day I met you. The look of someone who hasn’t taken a real day off in a while.”

“I run a company.”

“Big company or ‘I have three employees and a dream’ company?”

“I guess you could say big.”

Talia raised an eyebrow, waiting for more. When Seraphina didn’t offer it immediately, she laughed.

“You’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you?”

“Voss Holdings.”

“Oh.” Talia sat back slightly. “Wait, that’s actually a real thing. I’ve heard of that. My cousin works in logistics somewhere. She mentioned it a few weeks ago. Something about a big partnership.”

“That would be us.”

Seraphina held out her hand the way she did when introducing herself to potential clients.

“Seraphina Voss, CEO of Voss Holdings.”

“Huh.”

Talia studied her for a second, recalibrating something, though nothing about her expression turned formal or careful the way it did with most people once they learned who she was.

“Okay, that’s a little intimidating, not going to lie. I gave a CEO unsolicited fashion advice.”

“You gave a stranger unsolicited fashion advice. The CEO part was incidental.”

“See, I like that answer.” Talia grinned, relaxing again. “Most people get weird once the money comes up. You didn’t. That’s a point in your favor.”

“Should I be earning points?”

“Everyone earns points with me. It’s a very informal, entirely made-up system, but I take it seriously.” Talia sipped her coffee. “So far you’re doing fine. The blazers helped.”

They kept going for the better part of two hours.

Talia eventually got around to what she actually did for a living. She was a freelance stylist with a dozen regular clients, plus whoever wandered into a boutique looking like their closet had betrayed them. Between her brown skin, loose curls framing her face, and unbridled tongue, Seraphina already knew her clients were getting more than what they paid for.

“Same time next week?” Talia asked once the cups were empty and neither of them had made a move to leave.

“Why wait? You have my number.”

Talia laughed.

“Careful. You won’t be able to get rid of me.”

She pulled her coat on.

“I like you better than the divorce lawyer, for what it’s worth.”

“High praise.”

“The highest I give.” She was already halfway to the door, walking backward to get the last word in, which seemed to be a compulsion of hers. “Get home safe. Text me you got home safe, actually. I’ll worry otherwise.”

Seraphina watched her leave.

She already knew she was texting her immediately.