Creampuffs

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Like Tiffany," Michelle supplied with a straight face.

He shrugged. "Sure. Like Tiff. She was in every day, 8 to 10 hours, just typing away, for months. Like she was showing up for work."

A light bulb went off in Michelle's head. "Aha. Co-working."

"Right. But the Java Jones is a cafe. It's cramped. It's noisy. It's fun, though, to be at a cafe instead of working at home, for some people." Justin grinned at her.

She grinned back, pleased to have figured it out. "So you're going to put in desks and telephones and computers and stuff?"

"Just desks. There'll be room for meetings—a proper board room—and WiFi and LAN connections and lockers at the back to put your stuff in if you want to go out for lunch or whatever. We'll rent them out on a monthly basis. Board room is pay-as-you-need."

"So this was the big-top-secret-super-duper-classified project you kept hinting about on Facebook." Michelle smirked. "You sly dog. I can't believe you actually managed to keep it secret."

"It's easier to keep beans from spilling online than in person, I admit. If we'd been hanging out I would have probably blurted it out months before." He had his hands in his coat pockets, smiling like a little kid that had gotten away with something.

"Sneaky," Michelle repeated, pleased. "That place has been for sale for months."

"No doubt, for what they were asking. It's a weird-shaped space for this neighbourhood and it needs a lot of work, but for me, it's perfect."

"And you really didn't know that Creampuffs was nearby?"

"Not the exact address, anyway." He shrugged. "It's Creampuff's fault I'm out here, anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she teased.

He shrugged again. "Well, I mean... it's you. You started this."

She stopped in her tracks, confused; he overshot her and had to swing back. "Don't look at me like that." He laughed, hands out in surrender. "I meant... when we were—while you were doing your business plan... it got me thinking. I have it good with the Java Jones, but I want to do more. Have wanted. For years. But it's really easy to stay in my routine and not think about it. And then there you were, and you were putting everything you had into something, really leaping, and, I dunno." He shrugged. "I guess you got me inspired."

"So you started looking around." Months of tweets and vague status updates reassembled to make sense along a timeline.

"Right. And this neighbourhood—well, after you posted about Creampuffs' 2.0 grand opening, I was curious, I did some poking around. The demographic is perfect. Lots of young people moving in for the low rent, lots of self-starters—far enough from everything that they probably telecommute if they can—"

"—and hang out in coffee shops to work."

"And hang out in coffee shops to work. Exactly. It's a coffee shop without the shop and better WiFi and more elbow room." He grinned, and they started walking again. "This way I get to focus on the relationships part. Tara's taking over more of the management of the cafe; she loves it. Everyone wins."

"It's nice when everyone wins." They strolled in contented silence, until Michelle blurted: "My uncle got arrested."

"Wow, really?"

"Yeah, in Thailand. Renting jet skis to tourists without a license. He's being extradited."

"Shit."

She scuffed at a snow drift with the toe of her boot. "It is what it is, you know?"

"For sure. Still, he's family."

"Yeah, but he also ran a smuggling operation under our floors."

"And in your ceilings."

"And the walls, too. That place was... swiss cheese hidey-holes." She giggled. "But if that hadn't happened, then Creampuffs 2.0 wouldn't have happened, and... it's better this way. It's more my idea of a gym than Bryan's."

Justin glanced at her, then quickly turned away. "Yeah, I bumped into him this morning. So... you two... back together again?"

"What, like a crime-fighting duo?" She laughed, but he didn't laugh back, and a little bell began to ring in the back of her mind. Like with the tweets, an assortment of little remarks assembled into a big picture. "Uh, Justin, you do know that Bryan and I are brother and sister, right?"

Justin stopped, suddenly, in the middle of the sidewalk, spinning around, arms wide; a little granny snapped at him and swung her purse, then continued on, muttering, while he stared, open-mouthed. "You're brother and sister!"

"Yes, doofus, did you think—Jesus. It's been months, now. Like a year."

He flailed around. "I didn't—you're both named Haley—of course you are, you're siblings. Fuck. You two do not look alike."

"Well no, he looks more like my mom and I look more like my dad." Michelle explained patiently, as though to a toddler, since this was not the first time people had to be walked through how the siblings looked so different. "My mom's half-Vietnamese and half-German while my dad's family is from all over northern and eastern Europe."

"Oh Christ."

"Don't feel that bad, a lot of people get confused." She playfully linked her arm through his. "My toes are frozen. I forgot I'm not wearing socks. Let's go get something hot to drink."

"Hot drinks sound awesome," he agreed, still shaking his head. "Brother and sister."

"It's not that hard."

"I feel pretty dumb."

"You should."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." She grinned so hard that her cheeks hurt, as they strolled along. But the bell in the back of her mind was still ringing, something about... "Oh my god."

"Now what? Let me guess, Dolores is your other adopted sibling—"

She let go of his arm and turned to him. "Justin, would you like have coffee with me?"

He tilted his head. "Well, yeah, I thought that's where we were going—"

"No, I mean. Not now. Like, coffee coffee. Sometime. Or maybe... a drink." The way he stared caused the enthusiasm to drain out of her. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. "Just as an idea, you know, or whatever—"

"I'd love to." Breaking into a bright grin, he added: "How about we go for dinner? I know a place that does excellent—"

"—don't say it—"

"Mapo dofu," he finished, laughing. "It's really good. I promise."

She couldn't stop herself from laughing either, but managed to answer between gasps: "Mapo dofu sounds fantastic. It's a date."