Better latte than never, p.10
Better Latte Than Never, page 10
The first day of the street fair dawned warm and sunny, the perfect weather for tourists to wander around and purchase things they didn’t need from street vendors. Finn had moved to town during the end of November, and didn’t expect the transformation the opening of the summer season brought. More cars than usual flocked the streets. Seasonal shops opened up. Restaurants put tables and chairs outside.
Everything seemed bright and new, with so much to explore. Finn couldn’t wait to check it out later. Right now he sat at a small card table in the back of the cafe, signing the books he hadn’t gotten to over the past two weeks. He scrawled Morgan Heart’s sloping signature one more time before putting the marker down and rubbing at his wrist. He’d been more than happy to help, but it was easy to forget how much it hurt signing so many copies at once.
“You know, you could have a table out in front.” Lydia interrupted his work. She’d been coming back here all day to pick up more books when they ran out at the front. Apparently his suggestion had helped sell a lot of coffee. “We could have had a ‘meet Morgan Heart’ event.”
Finn shuddered at the thought. He hated all those Hollywood meet and greets he’d been forced to attend out in California, where everyone called him Morgan. He’d met Theo at one of those parties. No. It was much better to remain a nobody in the corner.
“I like my privacy.” He forced himself to smile at Lydia. She didn’t need to know his sordid past. “It’s a good thing most people don’t know what I look like.”
She grinned. “What, you don’t want screaming fans chasing you down the street, demanding to know when your next book is coming out?”
“You’re more right than you know.” Finn played with the cap of his marker. “I spoiled my fans with a book a year. There’s already rumblings on the internet about how there’s no release date or even a title.”
“That’s what you’re working on now in the cafe?”
Finn nodded.
“Am I in it?”
“I don’t usually put real people in my books.” Finn looked away as he said it, not wanting to admit that while Lydia hadn’t made it into the book, a few other cafe regulars had.
“I call dibs on a mention in the acknowledgements though.” She gave him a set of finger-guns. “Let me pick up another batch for the counter. They’re really popular.” She went over to the stacks of signed books along the wall and grabbed a bunch.
It was only the first day of the street fair, too. They’d spent Friday night setting up, Finn helping transport Enzo’s art from his place to the cafe in his SUV. He’d hung his publicist’s banner across the front of the store, a nice backdrop for Enzo’s booth in the front. Hopefully, it would draw attention from the passing crowds.
“Anyone complaining about the official coffee?” he asked, curious. He’d bypassed the Holy Cannoli stands as he walked over this morning, shaking his head vigorously when their staff asked if he wanted to purchase anything. Now that Finn knew good coffee, he could not go back to swill.
She grinned. “Oh yeah. Most people who didn’t come in to get a book came solely for the decent coffee. No way the township lets them nab the contract again next year.”
“Lydia!” Rosa came down the hallway. “Where are those books?”
“Coming, Ma!” Lydia hefted her stack and passed her mother on her way back up to the front.
But Rosa didn’t follow. She gave Finn a look, and he felt completely transparent in that moment, like she saw everything about him with one glance.
“You know Enzo is my favorite nephew,” she said.
Finn blinked. How many nephews did she have?
“You didn’t do this”—she put her hand on a stack of books—“for me. You did it for him.”
Wait. Was this a shovel talk? He was not prepared for this. Hell, he and Enzo weren’t even dating. A few kisses didn’t mean anything.
“Yes. I did.” Finn swallowed, because yes, he had. The cafe, the street fair. They meant so much to Enzo. Finn couldn’t sit back and do nothing, not when Enzo had helped cure his writer’s block.
She nodded slowly. “He is like my own child, you understand? I want him to be happy.”
“I want that too,” Finn tried to reassure her.
She didn’t look reassured. “Remember. You hurt him, I break your knees.”
Finn didn’t think it was an idle threat. He’d heard about her prowess with a rolling pin. “I will remember that.”
Rosa snorted and shook her head but didn’t say anything more. She went to retrieve something from the shelves, and Finn got up to help her carry the coffee beans out to the front. His hand needed a break anyway.
The cafe was bustling, every table taken. If he had planned on any writing today, there wouldn’t even be a spot for him. Good thing he’d finished his proposal and sent that off to Angie. Finn figured he deserved a weekend off. He had no illusions about his timeline; however, if he wanted to meet his original deadline, he’d have to put his nose to the grindstone after the street fair. Write, write, write, and hope he’d have time to revise.
Finn walked past the line of people waiting for coffee, catching a comment here or there like, “I can’t believe they’re giving signed copies of his books away. Do you know how hard these are to get? Heart never does signings.”
He smiled and shook his head as he made his way to the window where he had a clear view of the chaos outside. Enzo sat at his booth, working on a sketch. Every so often, as a customer approached, he’d look up and smile, all of his attention on the person asking him questions.
Finn’s heart squeezed in his chest. He knew, right at that moment, that he really wanted Enzo to be happy. That he’d do anything to make sure of that, and it wasn’t only Rosa’s threat to his knees. Emotion filled him, and he touched the glass to steady himself.
He’d told Enzo about Theo. Finn hadn’t told anyone about that, not even his friends in California. He’d been too embarrassed. But he couldn’t let Enzo think Finn lied to him without a damn good reason. Theo had made him feel stupid and foolish. He’d made Finn want to hide.
But he’d opened himself to Enzo. Finn trusted him. And he had to admit it scared the shit out him to be that vulnerable again. The only other option would be to shut himself in his townhouse and never come out again. Finn couldn’t do that. He didn’t want to. He wanted Enzo by his side, his sweet kisses, the way he looked at Finn like he was something special.
Finn took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. He needed some fresh air.
ENZO ALWAYS LOVED TALKING about his art, and the street fair gave him a chance to do that. Granted, he often ended up speaking fondly of using a particular kind of paint while his audience’s eyes glazed over. Still, they usually purchased something, probably in a rush to get away from his stand.
He grinned at the thought as he rearranged the stack of postcards of his work for sale at the front of his table. They got flipped through the most, since they were more portable than one of his larger prints. No one seemed to want to carry full sized paintings while they still had more of the street fair to explore. Not that he blamed them. It did help Enzo be strategic about what he brought to sell.
On an easel behind his stand he displayed his finished painting of the cafe. The moment he’d put the last bit of paint on canvas a week ago, he knew he couldn’t sell it. No, this had to go to his aunt, to thank her for all she’d done for him. It belonged inside the cafe where its customers could marvel over it. Maybe she’d even let him paint over that awful mural and hang this in its place.
While he had a moment, Enzo stepped back there to straighten the painting and shift the easel so it was back under shade. Not that it mattered—the varnish he’d used should be a UV protectant. Still, while he wanted it on display, Enzo also wanted to wrap it in cloth and hide it away so it couldn’t be damaged. He flicked an imaginary bit of dust away, unable to smother the pride he felt at this work. This showed what he was capable of—true art.
“Are you the artist?”
The voice startled Enzo. He turned with a grin to greet his next customer. Despite the heat, the guy wore dark clothes—black slacks, and a black jacket over a collarless blue shirt. Maybe he was a vendor who’d stepped away from his own stand. He certainly looked professional. He had sandy hair streaked with the slightest touch of silver and very intense eyebrows.
“That’s me.” Enzo shook the man’s offered hand. “Enzo LoBianco.”
The man gestured with his chin. “How much for that painting in the back?”
He shouldn’t be surprised. Enzo did have it on display after all. “I’m sorry. It’s not for sale.”
“That’s a shame. It’s gorgeous. You’ve done interesting things with texture and light.”
Enzo felt his cheeks heat. “Uh, thanks. I take it you’re an art lover?”
The man grinned. “You could say that. Do you have anything else like it?”
For once Enzo regretted not bringing some of his better pieces out. “Nothing on display. But most of my work plays with those elements in one way or another. If you’re interested, I have some up on my website.”
“Sure. You have a card?”
“Yeah, one sec.” Enzo patted his pockets for one of the professional business cards he kept for this purpose. It listed his email and had a QR code for his social media accounts, along with his sales page and online portfolio. For one second he thought he’d left them at home. There had been so much to unpack this morning. With a sigh of relief, he pulled one out. “Here you go.”
“Thanks! I’ll be in touch.” He gave a nod before leaving without purchasing anything.
The attention was nice, but Enzo really needed more customers. He had to make some money today. It would go a long way toward helping him think he could actually make a living out of this.
People had been walking past him all day, taking the path between the table that signified the end of his stand, and the table that belonged to the woman who sold her wood carvings, to get to the cafe. It had gotten to the point where Enzo hardly noticed. But now the hair on the back of his neck prickled, and he knew without looking that someone had come up behind him.
“How’s it going?”
Enzo relaxed at hearing Finn’s voice. “Come on in.” He shifted a chair out of the way so Finn could join him inside the booth. “Never mind me. How’s it going in there? Are the customers freaking out over your book?”
Finn flushed, his cheeks turning a deep red. It made him look absolutely adorable and Enzo’s heart melted into a puddle of slush. “Not so loud. I don’t want to be trampled by groupies.”
Enzo hadn’t been able to keep Finn’s secret from the rest of the cafe. But the regulars had closed ranks, determined to protect Finn as one of their own. Finn did give them all personalized copies of his book, which probably helped.
More importantly, Finn had trusted them—trusted Enzo—and they’d all proved worthy of that trust. Finn had given him something important, a piece of himself, in order to save the cafe from ruin. Warmth settled in the center of Enzo’s chest, and he couldn’t help squeezing Finn’s hand. “Have I said thank you enough?”
“I take payment in coffee.” Finn squeezed back. “Although if I drink anymore today, I think I’ll start vibrating.”
Finn pulled away and started to flip through the box of postcards on the table. He seemed a bit twitchy, unable to keep still. Hmm, probably time to switch to decaf for the day. Enzo opened his mouth to tell him that.
“These are really pretty.” Finn pulled out one with an abstract flower pattern. Enzo had cut down the image from a much larger painting for the print. The painting itself had lots of impasto, and the flowers had as much texture as real flowers. Of course, he couldn’t duplicate that on a postcard.
Enzo shrugged. “They sell pretty well.”
He’d much rather be selling his paintings, instead of creating prints to appealed to the masses. His art said something. These cards were only a shallow reflection.
A group of teen girls came up to purchase some of the postcards. Enzo greeted them with a smile and happily counted out change for their twenties. They giggled and waved as they disappeared into the crowd, which had increased by a lot since this morning. He felt a pang of guilt that Finn hadn’t been able to enjoy any of it, stuck back in the cafe signing books. “You should walk through the fair. There’s lots of fun stuff to look at.”
Finn gave him a soft smile. “I think I’m good right here.”
Enzo would have kissed him. The way Finn looked right now? His eyes that bright blue, lids heavy, lips pursed just so. Oh, he wanted to dive in and eat him right up.
And then his phone dinged loudly.
“Sorry.” He pulled it out to see a text from Nat.
It read, “OMG, just got your text. Congrats!” followed by several happy and heart shaped emoji.
He’d texted her yesterday when he’d gotten the email, but she had been in bed and he’d left so early this morning for set up that she’d still been sleeping.
“Good news?” Finn asked. He could probably see all the exclamation points from where he was standing.
“Uh yeah, it’s really good news. I scored a job interview at the company where Nat works.”
Finn went still, all animation drained out of him. “I didn’t realize you were looking for another job. How does your aunt feel about that?”
Enzo tucked the phone back in his pocket. He’d get back to Nat later. The idea of a job interview left him out of sorts. He should be happy, knowing his portfolio had impressed someone at Nat’s company. And yet, a stone dropped in his belly at the thought.
“I wasn’t really looking for a new job. Nat encouraged me to apply, and...” He bit his lip and thought for a moment. His goal had been a personal thing, before, but now, he needed to share it with someone, in particular Finn, who’d already shared so much of himself. “On my birthday, I made a promise to myself to really make a go of it with my art.”
“But you are making a go of it.” Finn spun around and gestured at Enzo’s display. “Your work is amazing.”
Enzo blushed. Finn seemed to really like his stuff, but that didn’t mean everyone did. “It’s stupid, but I feel like I’m stuck in a rut. Do I really want to be making coffee for the rest of my life? Or do I want to create something...” He cast around for the right word. “Special.”
Not that he’d be doing that working in New York. He’d be paid to create, yes, but it wouldn’t be his vision. But it would be something seen by thousands of people, certainly more than the crowds who walked past his stand today.
It meant moving on, moving past the person he’d been before, leaving that version of Enzo behind. Was he ready for that?
“My big break came when I was thirty,” Finn admitted. “Sold my first book, and then my second. And the rest is history.” He made a waving gesture, pointing at the Morgan Heart banner hung over the cafe’s windows. “You just need the right opportunity.”
“I haven’t been on a job interview in years.” Enzo didn’t even know if his suit still fit. He’d last worn it for a family wedding, and well, he hadn’t been to any of those in a few years. It was easier to avoid his extended family than explain why he still wasn’t speaking to his parents. “It will be good practice, at least.”
“Right.” Finn looked like he was going to say something more, but another group of potential customers was making a beeline for the booth. “I’ll let you work. I have more books to sign.”
“Save one for me,” Enzo said.
“Always.”
Enzo was leaving.
The thought bounced around Finn’s head as he made his way back to his little card table with the books he still needed to sign. Of course it had been too good to be true. He should have known that from the moment he walked into the cafe. Hell, he had known that, believing that Enzo’s flirting had only been to sell more coffee.
That first kiss had thrown all of that out the window. Enzo actually found Finn attractive. He wanted to spend time with Finn. He was hot and funny and a damn good artist. He’d inspired Finn to write, to create a story better than anything he’d written before.
And now he was off to bigger and better things. A real job in New York City. Finn couldn’t blame him.
All relationships came to an end at some point. He’d based his career on it. Finn had never really hoped for more. Even with Theo, he’d known that would fizzle out at some point. He hadn’t expected it to crash and burn with utter and complete betrayal, however.
Enzo wasn’t Theo. Finn knew that. He’d proven that already. It wasn’t Finn’s fame that attracted him.
Although Finn still didn’t know what Enzo saw in him, he’d accepted the gift as it were. More than that, Finn wanted Enzo desperately, and Enzo wanted him back. They were both caught by the first blush of a relationship, when everything was shiny and new, and Finn’s chest was filled to bursting of wanting more.
The job thing had brought him crashing down to Earth. How had he been so foolish to hope for more? Finn damn well knew better. Enzo would move on, leaving Finn and the cafe behind as he pursued his future in the city.
But he was selfish enough to want to keep going, to not end things now, before they got too deep. He wanted to taste Enzo again and again, to learn what made the other man cry out in pleasure. Finn wanted to feast and enjoy every moment between the two of them.
And it would be all the sweeter knowing that it had an ending.
Chapter 14
Enzo worked his ass off over the next three days, smiling at tourists, selling his art, and encouraging everyone who passed by to grab a cup of coffee and a Morgan Heart book. His impending interview hung over the event like a shadow, reminding him that if he got the job, then he wouldn’t be out here again. This could be his last street fair.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t create again. Nat still managed to work on her own projects despite her commute. Not as many as she had before the job of course. Enzo had a flare of panic, the same fear that had haunted him from the beginning, that he wouldn’t have the same creative spark without the time he had now to work on his art. His spirit would be beaten down by the drudgery of the nine to five, and all he would be able to paint were gray images of cubicles.
Everything seemed bright and new, with so much to explore. Finn couldn’t wait to check it out later. Right now he sat at a small card table in the back of the cafe, signing the books he hadn’t gotten to over the past two weeks. He scrawled Morgan Heart’s sloping signature one more time before putting the marker down and rubbing at his wrist. He’d been more than happy to help, but it was easy to forget how much it hurt signing so many copies at once.
“You know, you could have a table out in front.” Lydia interrupted his work. She’d been coming back here all day to pick up more books when they ran out at the front. Apparently his suggestion had helped sell a lot of coffee. “We could have had a ‘meet Morgan Heart’ event.”
Finn shuddered at the thought. He hated all those Hollywood meet and greets he’d been forced to attend out in California, where everyone called him Morgan. He’d met Theo at one of those parties. No. It was much better to remain a nobody in the corner.
“I like my privacy.” He forced himself to smile at Lydia. She didn’t need to know his sordid past. “It’s a good thing most people don’t know what I look like.”
She grinned. “What, you don’t want screaming fans chasing you down the street, demanding to know when your next book is coming out?”
“You’re more right than you know.” Finn played with the cap of his marker. “I spoiled my fans with a book a year. There’s already rumblings on the internet about how there’s no release date or even a title.”
“That’s what you’re working on now in the cafe?”
Finn nodded.
“Am I in it?”
“I don’t usually put real people in my books.” Finn looked away as he said it, not wanting to admit that while Lydia hadn’t made it into the book, a few other cafe regulars had.
“I call dibs on a mention in the acknowledgements though.” She gave him a set of finger-guns. “Let me pick up another batch for the counter. They’re really popular.” She went over to the stacks of signed books along the wall and grabbed a bunch.
It was only the first day of the street fair, too. They’d spent Friday night setting up, Finn helping transport Enzo’s art from his place to the cafe in his SUV. He’d hung his publicist’s banner across the front of the store, a nice backdrop for Enzo’s booth in the front. Hopefully, it would draw attention from the passing crowds.
“Anyone complaining about the official coffee?” he asked, curious. He’d bypassed the Holy Cannoli stands as he walked over this morning, shaking his head vigorously when their staff asked if he wanted to purchase anything. Now that Finn knew good coffee, he could not go back to swill.
She grinned. “Oh yeah. Most people who didn’t come in to get a book came solely for the decent coffee. No way the township lets them nab the contract again next year.”
“Lydia!” Rosa came down the hallway. “Where are those books?”
“Coming, Ma!” Lydia hefted her stack and passed her mother on her way back up to the front.
But Rosa didn’t follow. She gave Finn a look, and he felt completely transparent in that moment, like she saw everything about him with one glance.
“You know Enzo is my favorite nephew,” she said.
Finn blinked. How many nephews did she have?
“You didn’t do this”—she put her hand on a stack of books—“for me. You did it for him.”
Wait. Was this a shovel talk? He was not prepared for this. Hell, he and Enzo weren’t even dating. A few kisses didn’t mean anything.
“Yes. I did.” Finn swallowed, because yes, he had. The cafe, the street fair. They meant so much to Enzo. Finn couldn’t sit back and do nothing, not when Enzo had helped cure his writer’s block.
She nodded slowly. “He is like my own child, you understand? I want him to be happy.”
“I want that too,” Finn tried to reassure her.
She didn’t look reassured. “Remember. You hurt him, I break your knees.”
Finn didn’t think it was an idle threat. He’d heard about her prowess with a rolling pin. “I will remember that.”
Rosa snorted and shook her head but didn’t say anything more. She went to retrieve something from the shelves, and Finn got up to help her carry the coffee beans out to the front. His hand needed a break anyway.
The cafe was bustling, every table taken. If he had planned on any writing today, there wouldn’t even be a spot for him. Good thing he’d finished his proposal and sent that off to Angie. Finn figured he deserved a weekend off. He had no illusions about his timeline; however, if he wanted to meet his original deadline, he’d have to put his nose to the grindstone after the street fair. Write, write, write, and hope he’d have time to revise.
Finn walked past the line of people waiting for coffee, catching a comment here or there like, “I can’t believe they’re giving signed copies of his books away. Do you know how hard these are to get? Heart never does signings.”
He smiled and shook his head as he made his way to the window where he had a clear view of the chaos outside. Enzo sat at his booth, working on a sketch. Every so often, as a customer approached, he’d look up and smile, all of his attention on the person asking him questions.
Finn’s heart squeezed in his chest. He knew, right at that moment, that he really wanted Enzo to be happy. That he’d do anything to make sure of that, and it wasn’t only Rosa’s threat to his knees. Emotion filled him, and he touched the glass to steady himself.
He’d told Enzo about Theo. Finn hadn’t told anyone about that, not even his friends in California. He’d been too embarrassed. But he couldn’t let Enzo think Finn lied to him without a damn good reason. Theo had made him feel stupid and foolish. He’d made Finn want to hide.
But he’d opened himself to Enzo. Finn trusted him. And he had to admit it scared the shit out him to be that vulnerable again. The only other option would be to shut himself in his townhouse and never come out again. Finn couldn’t do that. He didn’t want to. He wanted Enzo by his side, his sweet kisses, the way he looked at Finn like he was something special.
Finn took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. He needed some fresh air.
ENZO ALWAYS LOVED TALKING about his art, and the street fair gave him a chance to do that. Granted, he often ended up speaking fondly of using a particular kind of paint while his audience’s eyes glazed over. Still, they usually purchased something, probably in a rush to get away from his stand.
He grinned at the thought as he rearranged the stack of postcards of his work for sale at the front of his table. They got flipped through the most, since they were more portable than one of his larger prints. No one seemed to want to carry full sized paintings while they still had more of the street fair to explore. Not that he blamed them. It did help Enzo be strategic about what he brought to sell.
On an easel behind his stand he displayed his finished painting of the cafe. The moment he’d put the last bit of paint on canvas a week ago, he knew he couldn’t sell it. No, this had to go to his aunt, to thank her for all she’d done for him. It belonged inside the cafe where its customers could marvel over it. Maybe she’d even let him paint over that awful mural and hang this in its place.
While he had a moment, Enzo stepped back there to straighten the painting and shift the easel so it was back under shade. Not that it mattered—the varnish he’d used should be a UV protectant. Still, while he wanted it on display, Enzo also wanted to wrap it in cloth and hide it away so it couldn’t be damaged. He flicked an imaginary bit of dust away, unable to smother the pride he felt at this work. This showed what he was capable of—true art.
“Are you the artist?”
The voice startled Enzo. He turned with a grin to greet his next customer. Despite the heat, the guy wore dark clothes—black slacks, and a black jacket over a collarless blue shirt. Maybe he was a vendor who’d stepped away from his own stand. He certainly looked professional. He had sandy hair streaked with the slightest touch of silver and very intense eyebrows.
“That’s me.” Enzo shook the man’s offered hand. “Enzo LoBianco.”
The man gestured with his chin. “How much for that painting in the back?”
He shouldn’t be surprised. Enzo did have it on display after all. “I’m sorry. It’s not for sale.”
“That’s a shame. It’s gorgeous. You’ve done interesting things with texture and light.”
Enzo felt his cheeks heat. “Uh, thanks. I take it you’re an art lover?”
The man grinned. “You could say that. Do you have anything else like it?”
For once Enzo regretted not bringing some of his better pieces out. “Nothing on display. But most of my work plays with those elements in one way or another. If you’re interested, I have some up on my website.”
“Sure. You have a card?”
“Yeah, one sec.” Enzo patted his pockets for one of the professional business cards he kept for this purpose. It listed his email and had a QR code for his social media accounts, along with his sales page and online portfolio. For one second he thought he’d left them at home. There had been so much to unpack this morning. With a sigh of relief, he pulled one out. “Here you go.”
“Thanks! I’ll be in touch.” He gave a nod before leaving without purchasing anything.
The attention was nice, but Enzo really needed more customers. He had to make some money today. It would go a long way toward helping him think he could actually make a living out of this.
People had been walking past him all day, taking the path between the table that signified the end of his stand, and the table that belonged to the woman who sold her wood carvings, to get to the cafe. It had gotten to the point where Enzo hardly noticed. But now the hair on the back of his neck prickled, and he knew without looking that someone had come up behind him.
“How’s it going?”
Enzo relaxed at hearing Finn’s voice. “Come on in.” He shifted a chair out of the way so Finn could join him inside the booth. “Never mind me. How’s it going in there? Are the customers freaking out over your book?”
Finn flushed, his cheeks turning a deep red. It made him look absolutely adorable and Enzo’s heart melted into a puddle of slush. “Not so loud. I don’t want to be trampled by groupies.”
Enzo hadn’t been able to keep Finn’s secret from the rest of the cafe. But the regulars had closed ranks, determined to protect Finn as one of their own. Finn did give them all personalized copies of his book, which probably helped.
More importantly, Finn had trusted them—trusted Enzo—and they’d all proved worthy of that trust. Finn had given him something important, a piece of himself, in order to save the cafe from ruin. Warmth settled in the center of Enzo’s chest, and he couldn’t help squeezing Finn’s hand. “Have I said thank you enough?”
“I take payment in coffee.” Finn squeezed back. “Although if I drink anymore today, I think I’ll start vibrating.”
Finn pulled away and started to flip through the box of postcards on the table. He seemed a bit twitchy, unable to keep still. Hmm, probably time to switch to decaf for the day. Enzo opened his mouth to tell him that.
“These are really pretty.” Finn pulled out one with an abstract flower pattern. Enzo had cut down the image from a much larger painting for the print. The painting itself had lots of impasto, and the flowers had as much texture as real flowers. Of course, he couldn’t duplicate that on a postcard.
Enzo shrugged. “They sell pretty well.”
He’d much rather be selling his paintings, instead of creating prints to appealed to the masses. His art said something. These cards were only a shallow reflection.
A group of teen girls came up to purchase some of the postcards. Enzo greeted them with a smile and happily counted out change for their twenties. They giggled and waved as they disappeared into the crowd, which had increased by a lot since this morning. He felt a pang of guilt that Finn hadn’t been able to enjoy any of it, stuck back in the cafe signing books. “You should walk through the fair. There’s lots of fun stuff to look at.”
Finn gave him a soft smile. “I think I’m good right here.”
Enzo would have kissed him. The way Finn looked right now? His eyes that bright blue, lids heavy, lips pursed just so. Oh, he wanted to dive in and eat him right up.
And then his phone dinged loudly.
“Sorry.” He pulled it out to see a text from Nat.
It read, “OMG, just got your text. Congrats!” followed by several happy and heart shaped emoji.
He’d texted her yesterday when he’d gotten the email, but she had been in bed and he’d left so early this morning for set up that she’d still been sleeping.
“Good news?” Finn asked. He could probably see all the exclamation points from where he was standing.
“Uh yeah, it’s really good news. I scored a job interview at the company where Nat works.”
Finn went still, all animation drained out of him. “I didn’t realize you were looking for another job. How does your aunt feel about that?”
Enzo tucked the phone back in his pocket. He’d get back to Nat later. The idea of a job interview left him out of sorts. He should be happy, knowing his portfolio had impressed someone at Nat’s company. And yet, a stone dropped in his belly at the thought.
“I wasn’t really looking for a new job. Nat encouraged me to apply, and...” He bit his lip and thought for a moment. His goal had been a personal thing, before, but now, he needed to share it with someone, in particular Finn, who’d already shared so much of himself. “On my birthday, I made a promise to myself to really make a go of it with my art.”
“But you are making a go of it.” Finn spun around and gestured at Enzo’s display. “Your work is amazing.”
Enzo blushed. Finn seemed to really like his stuff, but that didn’t mean everyone did. “It’s stupid, but I feel like I’m stuck in a rut. Do I really want to be making coffee for the rest of my life? Or do I want to create something...” He cast around for the right word. “Special.”
Not that he’d be doing that working in New York. He’d be paid to create, yes, but it wouldn’t be his vision. But it would be something seen by thousands of people, certainly more than the crowds who walked past his stand today.
It meant moving on, moving past the person he’d been before, leaving that version of Enzo behind. Was he ready for that?
“My big break came when I was thirty,” Finn admitted. “Sold my first book, and then my second. And the rest is history.” He made a waving gesture, pointing at the Morgan Heart banner hung over the cafe’s windows. “You just need the right opportunity.”
“I haven’t been on a job interview in years.” Enzo didn’t even know if his suit still fit. He’d last worn it for a family wedding, and well, he hadn’t been to any of those in a few years. It was easier to avoid his extended family than explain why he still wasn’t speaking to his parents. “It will be good practice, at least.”
“Right.” Finn looked like he was going to say something more, but another group of potential customers was making a beeline for the booth. “I’ll let you work. I have more books to sign.”
“Save one for me,” Enzo said.
“Always.”
Enzo was leaving.
The thought bounced around Finn’s head as he made his way back to his little card table with the books he still needed to sign. Of course it had been too good to be true. He should have known that from the moment he walked into the cafe. Hell, he had known that, believing that Enzo’s flirting had only been to sell more coffee.
That first kiss had thrown all of that out the window. Enzo actually found Finn attractive. He wanted to spend time with Finn. He was hot and funny and a damn good artist. He’d inspired Finn to write, to create a story better than anything he’d written before.
And now he was off to bigger and better things. A real job in New York City. Finn couldn’t blame him.
All relationships came to an end at some point. He’d based his career on it. Finn had never really hoped for more. Even with Theo, he’d known that would fizzle out at some point. He hadn’t expected it to crash and burn with utter and complete betrayal, however.
Enzo wasn’t Theo. Finn knew that. He’d proven that already. It wasn’t Finn’s fame that attracted him.
Although Finn still didn’t know what Enzo saw in him, he’d accepted the gift as it were. More than that, Finn wanted Enzo desperately, and Enzo wanted him back. They were both caught by the first blush of a relationship, when everything was shiny and new, and Finn’s chest was filled to bursting of wanting more.
The job thing had brought him crashing down to Earth. How had he been so foolish to hope for more? Finn damn well knew better. Enzo would move on, leaving Finn and the cafe behind as he pursued his future in the city.
But he was selfish enough to want to keep going, to not end things now, before they got too deep. He wanted to taste Enzo again and again, to learn what made the other man cry out in pleasure. Finn wanted to feast and enjoy every moment between the two of them.
And it would be all the sweeter knowing that it had an ending.
Chapter 14
Enzo worked his ass off over the next three days, smiling at tourists, selling his art, and encouraging everyone who passed by to grab a cup of coffee and a Morgan Heart book. His impending interview hung over the event like a shadow, reminding him that if he got the job, then he wouldn’t be out here again. This could be his last street fair.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t create again. Nat still managed to work on her own projects despite her commute. Not as many as she had before the job of course. Enzo had a flare of panic, the same fear that had haunted him from the beginning, that he wouldn’t have the same creative spark without the time he had now to work on his art. His spirit would be beaten down by the drudgery of the nine to five, and all he would be able to paint were gray images of cubicles.
