Coffee Cup Confessions - Trish Williford Page 0,2

own it.”

I’ve owned Mama Java’s for four years now, and the place has really grown on me. It was my mother’s baby, and my sister and I inherited it when Mom passed away from breast cancer. After her death, we considered selling it, but there was no way I could shut the doors on what she’d worked so hard to accomplish. Mama Java’s was her dream, and I know her spirit still dances in this space.

“Really? I had no idea you owned a coffee shop!”

“Mandy, I have a client—”

“I know,” she interrupts me. “I’m your client.”

This must be a joke, or she’s gone and lost her damn mind.

“Excuse me? What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Mandy rolls her eyes. “Do you really want me to do this the professional way? Fine.” She sits up straight, smiles brightly, and extends her hand. “Hi, I’m Mandy Gallagher. Thank you so much for meeting me on such short notice, Mr. Malone. I look forward to working with you.”

After a solid minute of me staring at her and her outstretched hand, she finally sits back in her chair and crosses her long legs. “I know I probably should have texted you instead of going through the website, but I knew that you’d get paid for meeting a client tonight.”

I’m still no closer to understanding what in the hell is happening. “Can you tell me what’s going on? Because I’m confused. Do you need a date?”

She tosses her long blonde hair over her shoulder and laughs. “No, I don’t need a date. I have a boyfriend.”

“So, this meeting is for nothing? You’re wasting my time, time that I could have used to schedule a meeting with an actual client.”

“Not necessarily. Calm down. I have a proposition for you. A potential client. Two casual dates, nothing too big.”

“Okay, so have her request a consultation.” Why is she acting like this is so difficult?

“Well, it’s not that simple. Your client wouldn’t know that she’s a client.”

Fuck no. I close my laptop and shove it in the bag. “You know that we’d both lose our jobs over that shit. There’s no way in hell.”

She begins to panic when she realizes I’m packing up to leave. “Wait. Just wait a second. Hear me out. We wouldn’t go through work. I’d pay you under the table—five thousand dollars, cash. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate.”

Five thousand dollars for two dates is really hard to snub, especially when I usually make up to a thousand per date … but I know in my gut that this has trouble written all over it.

“It’s a recipe for disaster. I really can’t do this.”

“I know it sounds shady, but I swear I have good intentions.”

A hard laugh escapes my throat. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions. How can you justify setting up a fake date as having someone’s best interest in mind?”

“It’s my younger sister,” she begins.

“Family? Come on, Mandy. Are you really naive enough to think this is a good idea?”

“She got out of a relationship about a year ago, and she swears she’s not into him anymore, but I don’t know if I really believe her. She’s stepping back into the dating world, and her reintroduction has been less than stellar so far. All I want you to do is to meet her, boost her confidence a little, do the charming shit you’re good at, and make her think there are still good guys out there. After the second date, text her, saying that you think she’s a good girl but you’re not interested in anything serious. She’ll be embarrassed and not talk to you, guaranteed.”

“This is so fucked up,” is the only thing I manage to say.

“Look, I know you aren’t crazy about the idea. I wasn’t even going to ask you, but this is the only way I could think of to help my sister. She and I are really close, and I would do anything for her. I know she would be in good hands with you and that you’re discreet and you keep things confidential well after the dates. If you can’t help me, I understand, but I thought I’d give it a shot.”

Something in the back of my mind is telling me to walk away from this. She’s withholding information. The entire situation just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know Mandy personally, only on a coworker level, but at this moment, I can tell that I don’t trust her. But …