Chapter 2“Allie, the usual?” Lyle Stubbs asked. The buff, bald barista often reminded her of Vin Diesel, only with darker skin. His smile and always bright demeanor were known to win over even the grouchiest patron pre-coffee, and his wife made the most delectable treats, a prime threat to any waistline.
“Almost,” she said, eyeing the offerings in the bakery case. “How about instead of the lemon poppy seed muffin I’ll have two of those fancy pink frosted donuts, the ones with the white and green sprinkles?”
“An excellent choice. Poppy says she was inspired by that ornamental tree she had me plant in the front yard last year,” Lyle said. With a wax paper napkin he bagged two of the donuts. Allie was already calculating how many walks with Checkers she’d need to work them off, but without
