ChapterFour
“Here you go, Sondra.” Harper smiled as she handed over a cappuccino in the black cardboard cup with its white plastic lid to the thirty-something woman. Her smile widened to a grin at the two love hearts with “Just Engaged” drawn in bright pink marker on the lid.
Abby, the pocket-sized waitress and sometime barista working to Harper’s left, must have overheard Sondra’s good news and bestowed one of the cartoons she granted when the mood struck, which was often.
Sondra’s face lit up when she spied the lid. “Thanks, guys.” With a quick wave, she moved off to an old oak sideboard decorated with intricate carving and brass lion’s head handles. The garage sale find was loaded with baskets containing packets of sugar and sweetener, napkins, and other paraphernalia.
As Harper collected an order from the next customer, a short, curvy woman rocked up to the counter.
Jinx Malone wore a caftan top in shades of pink, aqua, and lilac teamed with black slacks. Chunky gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears. With her long, blonde hair caught up in a sleek ponytail, she looked every inch the personal stylist and owner of House of Jade, the ultra-exclusive image consultancy located across the road. Fern-green eyes stared back at Harper.
It would be easy to hate someone that gorgeous, and maybe give her a slow death by stabbing her with a thousand toothpicks. But once anyone encountered Jinx’s whiskey-rough laughter and attitude-free personality, the woman made people converts faster than a dieter at a Herbalife convention.
As BFFs go, Harper couldn’t have found better.
Jinx raised her phone in her hand. “I didn’t get a return on my message from last night. Thought I’d come see what’s shaking.”
Harper handed the customer his change and waited for him to move off a few paces down the counter before speaking.
“In my defense I have an airtight excuse.” Wasn’t it proper decorum to turn your phone off when, err, entertaining a gentleman? Surely there was some Miss Manners guide that covered her ass on that score. “Once the morning rush dies down, I’ll share with you.”
Jinx quirked one sculpted brow at Harper, obviously reserving judgment.
Harper tipped her head toward the coffee machine. “Want your usual?”
“Yeah, babe. Need my latte.” Jinx pulled out some bills from her pants pocket.
“I’ve said before—”
Jinx held up her hand. “The moment you let me give you free foils and a trim you can play the free coffee card.”
“Oh, please,” Harper scoffed as Abby set to work. “That’s hardly the same thing.”
“It is when you drink as much coffee as me.” Jinx slid her money over the counter’s wooden surface, waited for her change, which she dumped in the huge red coffee cup that doubled as the tip jar.
Harper did a quick go at the math. Considering Jinx’s epic caffeine consumption, the woman had a point.
Jinx glanced at Abby’s recently dyed black hair. “You rock in pigtails, honey. That naughty schoolgirl look suits you.”
Abby’s gray eyes sparkled as she finished spooning foam into the customer’s cappuccino. “I’m digging the long black socks and short tartan skirt with my boots.” The white shirt was knotted at her slim waist, and the tie around her shirt collar finished off the look to perfection. “The boss is looking hot herself this morning.” Abby cast an assessing glance at Harper before drawing a big orange smiley face on a lid and clamping it down on the cup. She handed the coffee to the customer who nodded his thanks before he moved on to the sideboard.
“Thanks.” Harper ran a hand over her emerald green peasant top and flowing black skirt.
Jinx lifted her chin in agreement. “You get extra marks for good hair today, too.” She waved a hand in the general area of Harper’s face. “That whole casual knot on top of your head accompanied by requisite soft tendrils takes freaking ages.”
Harper rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. Who knew attaining the ‘effortless look’ could be so emotionally exhausting.” She ran her hand along the heavy gold strand of the love-knot necklace she’d owned for years.
“Hey boss, Magda needs you to sign off on an order.” Nitro walked past the swinging doors from the kitchen, which was hidden behind a screen made of individual wooden doors, all painted different shades of red.
“Can’t make a plum flan without the damn fruit,” a Russian accented voice shouted from behind the screen followed by the crashing of metal.
“And a warning, she’s in a bad mood.” He looked over his shoulder, as if expecting the middle-aged chef to come out waving a meat cleaver. With his head turned, Nitro showed off the blue streak down the center of his short, black hair.
“She’s not called Mad Magda for nothing,” Abby muttered from the side of her mouth.
“Hey, she’s the maker-of-magic in the kitchen. And underneath that bluster, there’s a heart of gold.” Harper ignored Abby’s snort and Nitro’s raised eyebrows as she grabbed the tablet from his hand showing the e-order to the catering supplier.
She scanned the listed items. Fruit, baking goods, and that addictive, eighty-percent dark chocolate that Magda used to create the café’s decadent chocolate cake.