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But why would it do that? Why, when my crisp white shirt and his ridiculously expensive suit are both just here, waiting to be splattered and drenched in a splash of hot brown coffee?
I get almost all of the piping hot liquid, but his dazzling white shirt acquires a long, wide drip.
“Thanks, Joe.” I’m trying not to scowl. I don’t think I’m succeeding.
His scowl is dark and deep.
“You elbowed my cup.” His voice has an alarming effect. I’m trembling in places that shouldn’t tremble. Certainly not in public. “Look at my suit.”
“Mm.” My voice shakes. “Nice suit,” I tell him. “But you’re right, the coffee’s not an improvement.”
His eyes harden. “Now I’ll be late for my meeting.”
The gleam of his eyes rakes over the wreck of my shirt. I feel him in the places where he’s looking. My flesh wants to feel him more. He takes some time, and his eyes burn as his gaze roams over the rest of me.
The owner puts his head out again. I need to get in there first. Wet shirt or not, I have to nail this job before Joe the Dimple can steal it out from under me.
I turn to block him. “Do you mind if I go in first?” He’s about to speak. I lift an innocent finger to my lip. “I have a timed appointment, and I have to get back to babysit.”
All of which is true. Well, nearly. I promised my neighbor I’d cat-sit her little angel this afternoon.
At least Joe is graceful about it. The slow burn in his eye sets off a buzz in the pit of my stomach. I chew the inside of my lip as I think, All’s fair in love and cappuccino, Joe.
Besides, he must be the last man on Earth who would need a job in a coffee shop.
Turning to the owner, I smile and extend a hand. “Cyntia Brill. Good morning.”
And I slip into the owner’s office like it was supposed to be this way.
Fake it till you make it, Cyntia.
“Okay.” When Henry is satisfied with my resumé, he shrugs and says, “I think you may be a good fit here,” with the emphasis on ‘think’ and ‘may.’
I force myself to stay still and not react as Henry’s eyes take another leisurely tour of my body. “I’ll give you a call. Let you know.”
I’m sure he doesn’t have anyone else to see. Apart from maybe Dimple Joe.
But Henry doesn’t make a move to end the meeting. An awkward pause hangs in the air.
Finally, he asks me, “Is there something else you want to say? Something more to persuade me? Show me why you would be my perfect choice for this opportunity?”
Oh. I get it. What could I do to persuade him? Hmm. I wonder? What could he possibly have in mind?
I stand.
“There is something else I want to show you.” I watch his wet grin split the bottom half of his face. It freezes when I tell him, “Let me make you a cup of coffee.”
His face falls. “Like I said. I’ll let you know.” His mouth twists, “I get all the coffee I need, thanks.”
“Not like this you don’t.”
He looks very unimpressed. “You make magic coffee?”
“Judge for yourself.” I take the small sack of coffee beans out of my bag. “Trust me. You really don’t want to miss out on this.”
I lead Henry out of the office, betting that he will be intrigued enough to follow. Andreas the barista flinches a little at the sight of Henry approaching.
As I pour beans into the grinder, I tell Henry, “You’ll only get the full effect when we start with the machines up fresh and all cleaned down, of course.” I pause while the grinder runs and the noise rattles the air.
