Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 37200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
“All the same, thank you. I appreciate everything you’ve done. I’ll have the rest of the paperwork ready to bring with me,” I tell him. Sasha, one of the two baristas we have here, is working the counter, which allows this conversation to take place. If the shop were busy and I had no back-up, an AirPod would be in my ear at all times, taking calls for the shop, listening to my best friend, or having music playing softly. Is it professional? Probably not. Does it keep me sane? One hundred percent.
“See you soon.” We hang up. Another nervous burst of energy settles in the pit of my stomach. There’s still so much to get done today—payroll, ordering supplies, setting up a schedule that will undoubtedly get screwed up by Tasha. Yep, Sasha and Tasha, one who never misses a shift and another who never comes in. The worst part is they’re sisters. Night and day, that’s what they are. I take my AirPods out, put them back in the case, and place it next to my phone. In order to do inventory, I need complete silence. Math is not my favorite part, and having to count all the to-go cups, lids, syrups, and coffee itself, not even starting on the creamers and sugars, is a task in itself. Thankfully, the book part of the store is easy, mostly dealing with donated books from others, charging a few dollars compared to prices for brand-new books, and what we do charge is to help with overhead. Literally, Books and Brews makes hardly a dollar on every book sold. Another part of my business plan is to hold an open mic night, maybe a few signings from authors who wouldn’t mind bringing in books to be signed. It’s all part of a bigger plan.
I get in my zone, even when my thoughts want to linger on a certain gray-eyed pain in my ass. I refuse to deal with his hot and cold behavior. You can’t have it both ways, or perhaps I’m lying to myself, and you can. Maybe I’m the problem after all. Wouldn’t that be the kicker? It’s not like I’ve used my words recently with the man. Something changed. At first, it was easy—sex, friendship, cut and dry. Somewhere along the way, I caught feelings, and now I’m the one holding a grudge because of his past.
“Hey, Millie, sorry to interrupt, but the espresso machine is making that weird grinding noise again, and I know you were able to fix it last time.” I was jotting down a few things when Sasha walked in.
“Hey, no problem. It probably has grinds stuck in it again. Are there customers waiting on it?” I ask, dropping the clipboard and pen on the shelf in the back room.
“Yeah, I was making a triple espresso when it started.” I follow her out. Last time was an easy fix; a thorough cleaning after the day was over seemed to do the trick. I’m hoping it’ll be the same today. But with customers waiting and only one machine working, things could get tricky during the lunch hour when people stop by for an afternoon pick-me-up.
“Crap, alright. I’ll help get the line down, then work on it. We may be down to one machine for the time being, though.” I make a mental note to call the company to have a repairman come. As expensive as these machines are, the warranty is an absolute must. No way can we go a full day without two machines.
“Thanks, I appreciate the help. I know this will put you behind.”
“It’s not a problem at all. Just remind me about that when my knees are on the counter, aching from dealing with the machine,” I joke with Sasha, making a mental note to give her more hours as well as a raise if I can finally make Books and Brews mine.
NINE
Ezra
Two phone calls, three texts. I’d send an email if I thought Millie would respond. As it stands, everything has gone unanswered. That was an hour ago, the amount of time it took me to finish up with a few work things then get here. Fucking traffic is a nightmare on a Friday afternoon. It’s a good thing I’m as close as I am to Millie’s shop. I couldn’t imagine how long it’d take from Millie’s place, not to mention the construction that’s never ending.
I open the door. The chime rings to announce someone has entered, except it’s too busy right now to be heard over the cacophony of people talking, music playing, and the whir of coffee machines that are constantly running. My eyes glance over the entirety of the store, looking for Millie. To the right is a room filled to the brim with books, well, as many as they can store in the small four-hundred-square-foot place. An arch entrance keeps it open and airy, since the only window in the place is in the front of the building. Every chair and table is currently occupied. Books and Brew is fucking booming. It’s been around for nearly twenty years, but only the last ten has it really become more popular. The owners know that, and so do the people in the area. Millie buying this place will be nothing short of amazing. Hopefully, she’ll add touches of her own, maybe cut back on hours here and there, have more of a staff that’s reliable. I pan my view back around, noticing a barista is hustling back and forth from the cash register to the machine. An ass I’d know anywhere is moving in the air, one I’ve had in my hands, in my lap, my fucking mouth when I’m nipping at the globes when she gets mouthy. What I don’t understanding is what exactly Millie is doing. I make my way through the people, tables and chairs set up here and there, dodging with their coffee in hand leaving the shop. My sole focus is on Millie. Her leaving today, Krista being hurt, it had me reeling. Things suddenly became clearer. I’m not saying that I’m ready for the “L” word; there are a shit ton of things I still need to iron out. What I do know is that I made a mistake this morning, going on the defense when I should have been playing offense all along. Attacking a woman when she’s already on the edge was fucking stupid. I’ve got an apology to make and a woman to soothe.