God, Brawn Brothers!
“They got a citation from the police for doing that last Friday also,” Vanessa told her. “Looks like they’ll get another one this week too.”
The woman shook her head. “That is just so irresponsible! Not the police, I mean; the coffeeshop! Didn’t I hear there was a spike in Covid cases in our area?”
“I heard the same. And it’s because of places like Brawn Brothers and their insensitive customers. They must all be Republicans. Heaven forbid Republicans actually believe in science, you know? I think most of them still believe the earth is flat and that early man had pet dinosaurs.”
Vanessa colored.
Shit!
That was careless. She never Republican-bashed to a total stranger! Particularly a total stranger who had just entered her now-struggling coffeeshop with the intention of spending money. For all she knew, this auburn-haired beauty, who presumably had money somewhere in that cool retro leather satchel she carried, had a donkey tattooed on her ass.
I wouldn’t mind determining if that’s the case, of course…
Thankfully, though, the customer laughed and, goodness, how it lit up her eyes! So, she’s either a normal person or at least a Republican with a sense of humor.
“Best laugh I’ve had all day.” She looked around the coffeeshop again, the disappointment from before returning to her eyes. “I was hoping I could sit in here and do some drawing while having my coffee, but oh well.”
“You’re an artist?” Vanessa asked, genuinely interested.
The smile hidden by Miss Auburn’s mask reached her eyes.
“Yeah. Well, it’s not my day job but it’s what I do when I’m not at my day job. I used to hang out at Your Best Shot and work on my art there.”
“Gotcha. Yeah, I was sorry to see they closed down.” Vanessa meant that. Technically they had been the competition, yes, but Margaret, the owner, had sent flowers to Vanessa on the day La Vida Mocha opened. Welcome to the neighborhood! the card had read. Margaret had even come to the shop herself later that opening week with some of her staff and insisted on paying for the round of coffee Vanessa offered on the house. She was good people.
The customer sighed.
“Well, I guess I’ll just take an Americano to go, then. Large, please.”
“Coming right up,” Vanessa said, locking her gaze with the woman. There was definitely a flicker of interest being returned!
No. It’s just been a long lonely day. You’re seeing things.
“Hot or iced?” she managed to ask.
“Um…hot, like our ancestors drank it.”
Laughing, Vanessa set about making the drink. Her customer, meanwhile, started looking around.
“This is a cool shop,” she said. “I can’t wait until this stupid lockdown ends. I may end up spending a lot of time here.”
Softly; so softly that she barely heard it herself though it came from her own lips, Vanessa whispered, “Yes, please.”
“What was that?” the customer asked.
Fuck! She caught that?
Vanessa felt flame coloring her cheeks. She forced herself to keep her eyes focused on the espresso machine. God, what was wrong with her? This wasn’t normal. Obviously, it had been too long since she’d had sex. How long was it, anyway?
“Nothing,” she said cheerily. “Just talking to this damn machine.”
“Oh.”
Why were Americanos so easy to make? Vanessa was just about done with the drink already. Then this vision of a woman would pay and skip on out of here. Why couldn’t she have ordered Vanessa’s signature drink, the triple chocolate caramel frappe with espresso and Godiva chips. That had nine ingredients and each one took five minutes to make. Of course, it also had about a bazillion calories and judging by the figure this customer had, she certainly did not overindulge much.
All too soon the to-go cup was filled. She turned back to the counter and waved the cup at her guest who had wandered away to continue her inspection of the shop.