Page 3 of It's a Brewtiful Day

“It’s okay.”

He sighed and tossed his gaze to my coffee-stained pile. “Let me get you another.”

As much as I desired to sit and enjoy Coffee 2.0, now I needed to go home and change before I went to work.

“I can’t stay.” I ran the cloth across my lap and down my legs and shook my head as there wasn’t much additional coffee to soak up; my pants had done a great job already.

“I understand.” His shoulders slumped. “See you later?”

“Tomorrow for sure.”

His shoulders pushed back at the suggestion and it made his chin jut out a teensy bit. “I’ll have your drink ready for you. What time?”

I inhaled, and a small smile tickled the edges of my lips. Was he as excited to see me again as I was him?

There’s no way that was possible. He was justbeing an incredibly sweet barista. It had to be part of the training.

Releasing my breath and trying to act as casually as possible, I pushed up onto my feet, standing slightly shorter than him. “About the same time?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

I tipped my head down and rolled my bottom lip between my teeth as my heart hammered out a fast-paced beat. “I’ll be here at nine-thirty.”

“Perfect. I look forward to it.”

“As do I.”

I unwrapped my hand and passed him the cloth. I gathered the books and stepped off to the side, turning quickly.

Elliot was quick. He already had my mug in his hands and had rewashed the tiny table. He waved and smiled. “Tomorrow. Nine-thirty.”

“I’ll be here.”

“Bring a plastic bag for your books.”

I laughed, tipping my head back slightly as my hair fell off my shoulders and draped across my back. “Indeed.”

His mouth opened, shut, and opened once again. “Hope your hand will be okay.”

“The least of my worries.”

“Have a brewtiful day.”

With a spring in my step, I left the Coffee Loft behind and breathed in the fresh autumn air. Finally, things were looking up.

* **

In the humidity-controlled Pages & Dreams, a quaint store filled with the satisfying smell of paper and ink, I stood with my first customer of the day.

I slipped the receipt, like a bookmark, into the newest thriller and tucked the book into her brand-new canvas bag. “Metaphors be with you.”

She giggled and covered her mouth. “That’s one I’ve never heard before.”

“Then you need to pop by the Coffee Loft as they are always sending their customers off with a witty pun.”

“Where’s that?”

“Two doors down. Where are you from?”