The Inner Circle (Return of the Ancients Book 3) by Carmen Caine, Madison Adler Page B

“We should talk, Sydney.”
    I looked up and saw Rafael sitting in the corner near the Christmas tree. My stomach dropped as our eyes locked for a moment, but then I turned away. I couldn’t talk to him right now. It hurt too much.
    And even though I knew I should pretend to be, at the very least, friends, so I could gather information, I just couldn’t.
    With a frown, I texted, “Leave me alone.”
    My new phone was annoying. I wasn’t used to autocorrect. It kept wanting to change “alone” to “along”, but at last I succeeded and headed to the backroom to put my things away and collect my apron.
    I was going to have to find a different way to get information about the mutant tulpa and the Inner Circle. I just couldn’t use Rafael for that. I was discovering that my heart wouldn’t let me play games with him.
    Rafael took so long to respond that I thought he wasn’t going to. I’d just tossed my phone into my locker when it buzzed his reply. “Of course!”
    I raised a brow. It was kind of a snippy response. But then, I guess my message had been a tad sharp too. Putting my phone away, I went to work.
    I stayed in the storeroom, unpacking boxes and mentally complaining to the universe how unfair and difficult life was getting, until Ellison arrived with a mischievous look on this face.
    “You’re going Christmas shopping with me and Grace tonight,” he announced, giving me a playful punch on the shoulder. “We’ll wait for you after work.”
    “Oh?” I asked with a fake smile. I wasn’t in a shopping mood. I had Al to push and tulpas to research. And Rafael to be depressed about.
    “You don’t have a choice,” he said cheerfully. “And you better get up front. Samantha wants foamy butterflies out of you. Ten of them.”
    Reluctantly, I followed him to the front counter. To my relief, Rafael was gone. I folded my arms on the granite countertop and buried my head a moment, illogically upset that he really was leaving me alone.
    But only a moment later, a fellow barista named Denise whacked me on the top of the head with a rolled up newspaper and ordered me to get to work on the espresso machine.  I tried to listen to her instructions. But I was just too distracted. I couldn’t shake Rafael from my thoughts, and it only got worse by the minute.
    “Let me taste it,” Denise ordered in her best Samantha imitation.
    Shaken from my thoughts, I blinked a little and handed her the drink.
    She wrinkled her nose as if the smell offended her.
    I guess it did.
    “What is this?” she asked in a disdainful tone. “Some kind of science experiment?” Slamming the cup onto the counter, she turned away.
    I squinted at the cup. I didn’t care for coffee. Or at least the concoction that I had made. I took a sip and gagged. It tasted like a mixture of chocolate and canker sore medicine.
    Denise set me to practicing for an hour, twirling hearts and ferns into the frothy, silky foam and placing marshmallows “just so” in the cups. It was hard, especially when she watched my every move with a critical eye. She was actually much worse than Samantha.
    Samantha herself wandered by at times to watch. And every time she left, she told me, “Remember, Sydney. Everything we do is about flavor!”
    As the afternoon progressed, the shop emptied and gray clouds covered the sky. A light drizzle began to fall.
    Grace showed up shortly before our shift ended.
    “Going Christmas shopping with us after work, Sydney?” she asked as she ordered a latte.
    “Yeah, Sydney,” Ellison chimed in as he sent me a pleading puppy-eyed look. He reached over and swatted my arm. “You can’t say no.”
    They were clearly teaming up.
    “I dunno,” I said, thinking it just might be a good idea. I was getting exhausted from the continuous swarm of thoughts whirling around in my head. Maybe Christmas shopping would be a good distraction.
    Our shift ended. Tossing my disposable gloves into the trash, I untied my apron and headed to the