Page 1 of It's a Brewtiful Day
Chapter One
“It’s a brewtiful day, Sage. Welcome back.” Was it wrong that the staff all knew my name? Probably a sure sign of where my extra money went. At least they were all A+ employees.
I gave the barista with a pleasant smile a slight nod. “Good morning, Molly.”
“Same as usual?” She had her fingers poised over the screen.
Every day for the past three months, or at least everyworkingday for the past three months, I’ve made it my mission to stroll into the newly established Coffee Loft as casually as possible and order my favourite hot beverage – a maple twist macchiato.
“Yes, please, and in my usual cup.” I pointed to the recessed wall where different-sized mugs were displayed in a seven-by-seven configuration. “I’m in no hurry this morning.”
“Sure thing. Lofty size coming right up.” Shepunched the order in and looked up at me. “Anything else?”
“Well…” I stared at the menu board before glancing toward the display case full of yummy pastries and waist-padding delights. “As much as I want to, I’ll just stick to the coffee.”Even if they all looked delicious.
What I wouldn’t give to have a wicked metabolism to go along with my healthy appetite.
“Have a seat, and we’ll bring it out as soon as it’s finished.” Molly turned and grabbed my usual lofty-sized mug—the same colour mauve as Monica and Rachel’s apartment with the show’s name across the front.
Shifting the stack of books I carried into my other arm, I crossed the quaint space and made my way to the rich velvet-covered wingback chair nestled into the corner. When I came in, if it was empty, it was a sign that I needed to sit down and read at least a few chapters of the latest romance novel piled on my short stack of reads. Plus, the music was quieter in this corner, and I had a better view.
Of the scenery.
And of him.
Tucking my perfectly barrel-rolled waves of honey blonde hair behind my ear, I tipped my head down while glancing at the highly choreographed dance behind the counter. Baristas bent and ducked, moving fluidly between each other, all set to the rhythm of hisses and gurgles and of metal spoonsstirring against metal containers.
It was neat to watch, but it wasn’t the whole reason I liked this vantage point. Guesshewasn’t working today.
Setting my stack of five books down on the tiny knee-height table, I chastised myself for not having brought my canvas bag; the one with the wordsBooked on a Feeling. It would’ve made it easier to exchange books from the take-one-leave-one stops along my way to work.
Whoever decided it was a good idea to set up a Little Free Library near the fire station was a genius. As part of my daily habit, I checked it out every day, bringing the old and wasted books with me to work. There I’d turn the books with torn and stained covers, and full of ripped pages, into a beautiful flower or a book tree.
I never just took the books, I was always exchanging them with older, yet not as popular titles from the bookstore two doors down where I worked – Pages & Dreams. Inside those pages was a bookmark buy-one-get-one coupon. We had a much bigger selection of used books than the Little Free Library, but that section paled in comparison to the brand-new books. Our small space wasn’t as grand as a big chain store, but we catered to our readers and their needs and the size of the town. If they needed it—and honestly, who didn’t need a great book?—we went out of our way to get it into their hands.
Shuffling through the stack, I knew which ofthe five were going to be upcycled into works of art and which would be added to our freebie box. I was making it my mission to rid the Little Free Library of trash, aka books that were in poor condition, and replace them with like-new books. And not just for adults either. Once I’d spotted a couple of young kids looking through, and even more shocking, although pleasantly so, I saw a teenage boy rifling through. After asking what he was interested in, I made sure to add a science fiction novel once a week, and each week it was gone. I was grateful that that particular teen chose to spend his time reading rather than getting into mischief like most teens I knew. Today, he returned one of the books with a handwritten note taped to the top that saidthanks! I loved Artemis. It was notes like that that kept me going, making sure the Little Free Library was properly stocked.
I crossed my legs and picked up a pocket romance, leaving the sci-fi novel with its handwritten note on the top of the pile. This book was an older one, a Harlequin from the 80s, if the cover was any indication, back before the romance conglomerate divided into series like theLove InspiredorHistorical. It was the kind many referred to as a bodice-ripper, however, it promised a good time between the pages.
My nose was in the book, but my eyes were scanning the area, hoping to see more than Molly or Nina, and that’s when I spotted him.
Elliot.
My reason for the daily visits.
He was looking dapper in his space-dyed navy-blue long-sleeve shirt. No one wore an apron as nicely as he did, and it suited him somehow.
My secret crush was tall, handsome, and as sweet as they came. He was also an enigma as I was sure his charming ways were all an act, but one I literally bought into every single day as I listened to him greet each customer as if they were a cherished friend.
“Your maple twist macchiato.” He held theFriendsmug above my stack of books. “Extra foam, one additional shot of maple, and heated only to a hundred ninety degrees.”
“You know me too well, thank you.” I hoped my voice was smoother than the erratic pounding of my heart.
Our conversations were always limited to small talk and friendly greetings. Someday I’d get up the courage to have a proper conversation and perhaps be brave enough to ask him out, have the relationship end in a firestorm in one or two weeks, and squash my daily visits to the Coffee Loft.
On second thought, why crush the dream? This was always a pleasant way to start my day. Why ruin it with potential disaster?
“I only know what your drink order is.” Those long lashes blinked twice as his cheeks tinged a faint pink.