(Lucy — A Few Days Later)

Lucy stood behind the counter of Nook, clutching a tray of mini pastries like it was a life raft.

The grand opening was in full swing — fairy lights twinkled across the ceiling, soft indie music floated from the speakers, and the smell of fresh-baked bread and roasted coffee filled every corner of the shop.

It was everything she had envisioned when she first dreamed of her little bakery-café.
And somehow, it was also terrifying.

People milled around, sipping espresso and nibbling at her pastries.
Friends, strangers, other shop owners from the block.

Even Graham had popped in, shaking her hand warmly and buying a whole bag of cinnamon rolls “for business morale.”

Lucy barely had time to breathe, let alone bask — she was moving nonstop, refilling trays, answering questions, charming her guests.

It wasn’t until a low, familiar voice drifted across the counter that she realized fate wasn’t done messing with her tonight.

“Save me one of those croissants before they’re all gone, sunshine.”

Lucy froze, tray in hand.

Miles Bennet stood in the doorway of Nook, looking infuriatingly at ease in jeans and a navy blazer, his hands shoved casually into his pockets.

She narrowed her eyes.

“I thought you were just going to punish yourself by showing up,” she said coolly.

He grinned. “What can I say? I’m a glutton for pain.”

Before she could retort, chaos struck.

The espresso machine behind the counter let out a weird sputtering noise — followed by a sad, mechanical wheeze.

Lucy whipped around just in time to see steam sputtering from the side valve like a mini volcano.

“Oh no,” she muttered.

Guests turned to look.
The music skipped.
The barista looked panicked.

Without thinking, Lucy ducked behind the counter and grabbed a wrench from the emergency toolkit she kept stashed there.
She twisted a few valves, flipped a switch — and absolutely nothing happened.

The espresso machine coughed once, made a gurgling noise, and promptly died.

The room fell silent.

Lucy straightened up slowly, cheeks flaming.

Miles was already moving, slipping around the counter like he owned the place.

“Move over,” he said under his breath.

Lucy blinked. “You know how to fix a commercial espresso machine?”

“Nope,” Miles said cheerfully, “but I know how to bullshit confidently until someone smarter arrives.”

Somehow, ridiculously, she almost laughed.

Miles crouched in front of the machine, poking around until he managed to stop the worst of the steam leak.
He glanced up at Lucy and whispered,
“Smile, sunshine. You’re still in charge.”

And somehow, she did.

She plastered on a brilliant grin, clapped her hands together, and called out,
“Alright, folks! Specialty coffee is temporarily down, but pastries, drip coffee, and mimosas are in full swing! First mimosas on me if you can find your seat without tripping!”

A ripple of laughter went through the crowd.
Tension broke like a popped balloon.

Lucy leaned back against the counter, heart hammering.

Miles straightened up beside her, brushing his hands off on a towel.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured.

She rolled her eyes, but her voice was softer when she said, “Thanks.”

For a second, their eyes locked — and something in Lucy’s chest stuttered.

But before she could untangle it, a new wave of guests bustled through the door, dragging her attention away.

Business first.
Confusing feelings later.

Much, much later.