Imaginary Lover // Camren Fanfiction

Chapter 7

DIDN'T PROOFREAD SO IF THERE IS ANY MISTAKES IM SORRYYY

Lauren realized she had been humming to herself this entire time, that silly song that Luke was trying to convince her that "Camila" had made up. Luke called it the humming song and it was annoyingly catchy, chirpy, and repeti- tive. She stopped herself singing and spun her car into the empty space along the road. She pushed back the driver's seat and reached in to grab her brief- case from the backseat of the car. First things first, coffee. Her boring town had yet to be educated in the wonders of Starbucks. In fact, it was only last month "Joe's" had finally allowed Lauren to take away her coffee, but the owner was growing increasingly tired of having to ask for his mugs back.

Sometimes Lauren thought that the entire town needed an injection of caffeine; some winter days in particular the village seemed to be sleep- walking, it needed a good shake. But summer days like today were busy, with people passing through. She entered the purple painted "Joe's," which was empty all the same. The concept of eating breakfast outside their own homes had yet to be grasped by the townspeople.

"Ah, there she is, the very woman herself," boomed the singsong voice of Joe. "No doubt spittin' feathers for her coffee."

"Morning, Joe."

He made a show of checking his watch and tapping the clock face. "Bit behind time this morning, aren't we?" He raised his eyebrows at her. "Thought maybe you had a bout of the summer flu. Seems like everyone's got it this week." He tried to lower his voice but only succeeded in lowering his head and raising his voice. "Sure didn't Sandy O'Flynn come down with it right after disappearing the other night from the pub with PJ Flanagan, who had it the other week. She's been in bed all weekend." He snorted. "Walking her home, me arse. I've never heard such nonsense before in my life."

Irritation rose within Lauren; she didn't care for tittle-tattle about people she didn't know, especially since, as she knew, for so many years her own family had been the subject of all the gossip.

"A coffee, please, Joe," Lauren said crisply, ignoring his rambling. "To take away. Cream, not milk," she said sternly, even though she had the same every day, while rooting in her bag for her wallet, trying to hint to Joe that she hadn't time for yapping.

He moved slowly toward the kettle. To Lauren's utter annoyance, they only sold one kind of coffee. And that was the instant kind. Lauren missed the variety of flavors that she used to get in the cities she traveled on business; she missed the smooth, sweet-tasting French vanilla in a Paris café, the creamy full-bodied flavor of hazelnut cream in a bustling café in New York, the rich velvety masterpiece of the Macadamia nut in Milan, and her favorite, the Coco Mocha-Nut, the mixture of chocolate and coconut that transported her from a Central Park bench to a sun-bed in the Carib- bean. Here in her home town, Joe filled the kettle with water and flicked the switch. A café with one measly kettle and he hadn't even boiled the water. Lauren rolled her eyes.

Joe stared at her. He looked like he was going to say—

"So what has you so late then?"
That.
"I'm five minutes later than usual, Joe," Lauren said incredulously. "I know, I know, and five minutes could be five hours for you. Sure don't the bears plan their hibernation on your time?"

That made Lauren smile, despite herself.
Joe chuckled and winked. "That's better." The kettle clicked as it boiled and he turned his back to make the coffee.

"The coaches delayed me," Lauren said softly, taking the warm mug from Joe's hands.

"Ah, I saw that." He nodded toward the window. "Jaimsie did well to get himself out of that one."