Cool for the Summer by Dahlia Adler (best novels in english .TXT) 📗

make change … only to say goodbye and see Jasmine Killary standing at the front of the line.

“Good morning and welcome to the Book and Bean,” I greet her as if I’m not at all rattled by her presence, by her bedhead and lip gloss and the Bathory Belles concert T-shirt she wore the day we went to the Pea Island Wildlife Refuge and came back covered in bug bites. We spent the night soothing ourselves in the hot tub. “What can I get you?”

She glances at the chalk menu over my head. “What do you recommend?”

“Something with foam. I’ve been working on my art.”

“Ooh, interesting.” She taps her chin, showing off a plum-colored fingernail speckled with gold glitter. “Can you draw a puppy?”

“Probably as well as I can draw a leaf or a heart.”

Her lips curve into a smile. “I’ll have a puppy cappuccino, please, with a shot of vanilla.”

I’m grateful for the opportunity to turn away from her and focus on the machinery. I need to concentrate on not burning myself on the steam wand and on swirling the milk just right, not on sniffing her honeysuckle shampoo.

Espresso fills the small café with a bitter scent that obliterates the honey teasing my nose, and I inhale deeply. I’m two steps from giving Jasmine her coffee and watching her leave when she says, “Hey, is that a flyer for a Clementine Walker event? How much did you have to beg to make that happen?”

Ah, so we’re back to acknowledging we know each other, then. Okay. “A happy coincidence,” I say, carefully pouring in the milk.

“Well, I’m curious to meet the legend herself. Shame it’s not for another month. I’ll have to put it into my calendar.”

Is she screwing with me? She’s gonna come to the Clementine Walker event? I can’t tell if she’s trying to ruin it for me or if this is a genuine attempt to be friends. But I don’t have time to gauge it because the dad who loved my graphic novel recommendations appears right behind her.

Judging from the bounce in his step, I’m guessing the last round went well.

And Jasmine is going to hear all about it unless I can get her out of here.

“That’ll be $5.26,” I tell Jasmine, pushing her drink forward.

She squints at the top. “That’s supposed to be a puppy? Really?”

Dammit, I forgot to be fancy with the top. Then again, it doesn’t look much different than if I’d actually tried, judging by my earlier attempts. “What, you don’t see it? There’s the nose right there.”

She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. She hands over her credit card—of course she has her own—which reads Jasmine H Killary in crisp letters. The H stands for Helene. I hate that I know that.

“You draw puppies in the coffee now?” Graphic Novel Dad pipes up from behind Jasmine. “I’ll have one of those too, please. And some more book recommendations if you’ve got ’em! I’m picking up the new Candy Buttons book today, but she goes through these so fast, I have to find something new.”

So much for getting Jasmine out of here.

There’s an unreadable look on her face as she says, “They have Candy Buttons? I may have to go pick up the new one myself.”

“They have a great graphic novel section here since this one started,” he says with a nod in my direction. I suddenly find myself very busy with literally anything but meeting Jasmine’s gaze. “She helped me find some great books for my daughter, and I’m sure she’d be happy to help you too.”

“I’ll check out what there is first,” she says, taking back her card. “Thanks for this.”

I make a choked sound in response as I watch her head off to see that I’ve had Beth stock the store with every single one of her favorites, every book she passed to me that I fell in love with, every book I knew would find fans if we carried it.

I make the dad’s drink and chat with him about some other choices for his daughter—Mooncakes and This One Summer and I am Alfonso Jones, recommendations I found on book blogs and promptly devoured—while I brace myself for Jasmine’s return.

He leaves before she gets back, and her drink goes cold. I help myself to a few sips of it and make her a new one with shaking fingers, art and all. It’s my worst design of the day, no question, but when she comes back to the counter with a smile on her lips, I have a feeling she won’t mind. “That’s a nice selection you have there.” She glances at the coffee and laughs. “And a nice … spider?”

“I’m new at this,” I mutter.

“Well, thank you for the new coffee. And for the books. You even have some I haven’t tried yet; I’m gonna go ahead and buy a few.”

“Great.”

“Great indeed.” She picks up her cup and tips it lightly in my direction with a “Bye, Tinkerbell” that sends a tremor through my knees.

Or maybe it’s the caffeine.

After spending the whole morning standing over the steam of the cappuccino machine, an afternoon at Kiki’s pool is exactly what I need. My hair is a mess of frizz and even in all black, you can see the zillion places I spilled coffee and foam on myself today. I call my messy self out before the others can beat me to it and change into one of the bathing suits I keep at Kiki’s, because where else do I really need them now?

“Thank God it’s still warm enough to sit by the pool,” says Gia, ever dramatic as she stretches out on a floating raft, trailing her fingers in the water.

“Barely,” I say miserably, stretching my legs out from my seat on the second-highest step. “I can feel my tan fading already.” It’s impossible to shake the concern that every little change I went through this summer has contributed to Chase’s attraction, and even though it would make him a colossal