"How did you even know I was there?" Ava asked, taking a deliberate sip of her iced coffee. She was sitting inside a tiny, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop tucked away in a street so obscure that even Google Maps would probably send her in circles trying to find it.
The place had exactly four chairs, two of which were wobbly, and a menu that looked like it was printed off a 2005 inkjet printer running out of ink.
How did Zeke even know about it?
Ava would probably never know. But considering this was Zeke Ford, the man who once tried to bribe a vending machine with a coupon for "one free hug," she wouldn't be surprised if he actually owned this sad excuse for a café.
He looked the type. His entire vibe screamed, I invested all my money in a cryptocurrency called BeanCoin and lost everything overnight.
She squinted at him. "Wait. Don't tell me you—"
"No," Zeke cut in, holding up a hand before she could finish. "I do not own this place." Then, after a pause, he added, "Yet."
