Chapter Two
Alex
I stared at the coffee machine in front of me wondering why the bastard had suddenly decided to crap out on me.
“I swear to fucking God,” I growled, giving the side of the machine a slap for good measure. “If you don’t start working again, I’ll throw you into the sea.”
I stalked into the kitchen, where my brother Spencer was icing cupcakes, and headed to the shelf where we kept everything important.
The manual was in a folder that someone, Mina probably, had conveniently labelled.
I flicked through to the FAQ section, which had some brief suggestions but nothing I hadn’t tried already.
“Is the coffee machine playing up again?” Spencer asked, holding a piping bag in mid-air that was threatening to drip pink buttercream all over the counter.
“Yeah, it keeps bloody hissing at me.”
“It was doing that to me yesterday. And last week.”
I sighed. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”
“It started working again, so I figured it wasn’t anything bad,” Spencer said nonchalantly and I gripped the manual tighter as I resisted the urge to strangle my brother.
I loved him, but he didn’t half dance on my last nerve sometimes.
He just didn’t think, especially not about the bigger picture, while that was all I seemed to be able to do.
My brain was already racing off in three different directions, thinking about all the ways today could pan out if our coffee machine broke and how I was going to deal with them.
At best I’d be able to fix it myself or find someone to do it within an hour or two; at worst we’d have to shut because nobody wanted to visit a coffee shop that couldn’t serve coffee.
“Breathe, Alex,” Spencer said. “I can hear you thinking from here. It’s dangerous, y’know. You could hurt yourself.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” I muttered as I walked back towards the piece-of-shit machine sitting on the counter.
Luckily the shop was quiet and everyone who’d been in so far had been understanding, but that didn’t mean much since it was still early on a Wednesday morning.
“Fuck this. Time for brute force, ignorance, and YouTube.”
There had to be a video out there somewhere with someone taking one of these ridiculous machines apart, because I was damned if I was paying someone to fix it before I’d exhausted all my options. Besides, I wanted to do it on principle now.
If the machine had still been under warranty, that would be a different story, but that had run out last year, so of course now the bloody thing was broken.
I grabbed my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans and put the make and model of the machine into YouTube, quickly pulling up a load of different videos that covered everything from basic maintenance to fixing more complex issues.
It took a few false starts but eventually I found one that seemed to cover the hissing and steam issue I was having. I had to dig my tool kit out from my tiny office behind the kitchen, but an hour later it seemed to be behaving itself again.
“Can you pass me a mug?” I asked Cleo, who was working behind the counter with me. She handed me one of the large clean coffee cups she’d been putting away. “Cheers.”
“Is it working now?” she asked.
“Only one way to find out.” I grabbed a portafilter and filled it with freshly ground coffee, tamping it down before slotting it into the machine. I crossed my fingers as I slid the mug underneath it and hit one of the buttons, telling it to fill the mug with espresso.
The machine whirred and grumbled into life and for a second I thought it wasn’t going to work. Then coffee began to trickle slowly into the mug, picking up pace as the machine remembered what it was supposed to be doing.
“Well done,” Cleo said.
“It’s fine,” I said, like it was nothing out of the ordinary.
“Hopefully, it tastes okay.” I picked the mug up and sniffed the coffee.
It smelt good. I took a sip and let the rich taste run across my tongue.
This was the roaster’s signature blend and had notes of chocolate, caramel, and hazelnut.
It was one of my favourite espresso blends and every time I tasted it, I was reminded why I’d spent months trying different coffees from roasters up and down the country.
I’d made a promise to myself when Spencer and I had started this endeavour that I wanted Novel Tea to be the best coffee shop I could make it.
That meant good coffee, a wide variety of teas and hot chocolates, great cakes and sandwiches, and a cosy, welcoming atmosphere that made people want to come back again and again.
Heather Bay might be a tourist magnet during the summer, but I’d needed Novel Tea to be sustainable throughout the year and that meant getting the locals onside.
It had taken time, but it had worked. Now we were so busy that we had days where there were no seats available for half of it, and we spent more time packing up drinks and food to go than for people to sit in with.
I’d also started getting people asking me if we’d ever consider expanding, whether that was finding a larger premises or opening a second location.
I already knew I didn’t want a larger premises, not unless my hand was forced by an astronomical rent rise, but a second location was something that was starting to niggle at the back of my brain.
There were so many things to consider with expansion, and a large part of me didn’t want to push my luck. Novel Tea was working perfectly as it was. Why would I want to risk my business on something that had a good chance of ruining everything I’d worked so hard for?
“Well?” Cleo asked, shooting me a hopeful smile. “Can we put coffee back on the menu?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Just don’t overload it.
I don’t know whether my repair job actually fixed the issue or just covered it up.
” I made a mental note to look at when the machine was due to be serviced.
Spite and sheer bloody stubbornness might have sorted it for now, but that didn’t mean it would hold.
And knowing my luck it’d stop working again just before the weekend.
“I’ll be gentle,” Cleo said and gave the top of the machine a soft pat as she started putting latte glasses away on the shelf underneath it. “If we speak softly, it’ll be nice to us.”
I chuckled dryly. “It’s not a bloody rattlesnake.”
“Don’t be rude to it. It might hear you.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled as I picked up the manual to take it back to the kitchen. “It’s a machine, Cleo.”
“And? Keep speaking like that and you’ll be the first one the robots go for when they rise up. I bet you don’t even say thank you to your Alexa.”
“First, I don’t have an Alexa. And secondly, I’ll welcome our robot overlords if it means I don’t have to keep fixing coffee machines.” I glanced up at the clock on the wall just above the kitchen door. “Aren’t you due a break soon? Want to take it now while it’s quiet?”
“Sure,” Cleo said and held out her hand for the manual. “I’ll put that back since I’m going through.”
“Cheers. Want a drink to take with you?”
“Oooh, can I have a caramel latte, please?”
“Yeah,” I said, waving at the machine. “Knock yourself out.”
All our staff got a free choice of a hot or cold drink on their breaks as well as a cake or pastry of their choice, and we provided them with lunch too.
I knew some people would say I was cutting into my bottom line by giving shit away for free, but it wasn’t like we had a ton of staff and if I couldn’t afford to feed them or give them a couple of coffees, then I didn’t deserve to be in business.
Besides, it wasn’t like any of them ever tried to take advantage of it.
I practically had to force food and drink on them sometimes.
Cleo made her coffee and disappeared into the kitchen where I heard her chatting to Spencer. He was probably trying to get her to taste test whatever new concoctions he and Mina were dreaming up.
I finished cleaning up around the coffee machine, giving it the occasional suspicious glance, and just as I was about to clear some tables, the bell above the door rang.
Five people entered, none of whom I knew, so they had to be tourists.
One of the men had a vaguely familiar face, as did one of the women, but I couldn’t place them.
Maybe they’d been in before and I’d only seen them in passing.
A couple of people currently occupying various tables turned to look at them, but that didn’t surprise me since everyone round here was nosy as fuck. I was just glad the book club weren’t in. They made MI5 look like a fucking bunch of amateurs.
“Hey,” I said as they walked over to the counter. They were a good-looking group and I suddenly wondered if they were something to do with that new TV show that was finally starting to film at the castle. “Welcome to Novel Tea. What can I get for you?”
“Can I get a large cappuccino, please,” said one of the women, the taller of the two. “Do you have any soy milk?”
“Yeah, we’ve got soy, almond, or oat milk. Did you want it to drink in or takeaway?”
“Takeaway, please, and can I actually have oat milk?”
“Sure. Anything else?”
She turned to the rest of the group. “What do you lot want?”
“Are you sure, Gemma?” one of the men asked. He had the most familiar face, but I still didn’t know where from. He was wearing a designer hoodie and had soft brown hair that swept across his face.
“Yeah, of course, get whatever you want,” Gemma said. “Can I also get one of the lemon and poppyseed muffins, please?”
“Was there no food at the meet-and-greet either?” said one of the other men. He was taller, with sharp cheekbones and a dusting of stubble that highlighted his jaw.
“Nope, and I know we’ve got lunch later but I’m starving. If they’re going to start forcing me into corsets, I’m going to enjoy all the cake I can now.”
“Better you than me,” the first man said teasingly.
“Just you wait, I’m sure I can find a reason to ask Costuming to put you in one,” the second woman said with a sparkling expression and wicked smile. She turned to me and added, “Can I have a large vanilla latte with an extra shot, please? And, oh my God, are those chocolate cornflake nests?”
“Yeah,” I said. “We’ve got them on for the spring. Couldn’t resist bringing back a classic.”
“I’ll have one of those, please.” She turned to the men. “What about you three?”
“Just a large black coffee, please,” said the third man, who hadn’t spoken before but had a thick London accent when he did.
He was broadly built with a shaved head and a casually threatening aura that just said, Don’t even bother trying to fuck with me.
He was different from the other four in the way he carried himself and I wondered, if they were something to do with the filming, whether he was their security.
“Don’t you want some cake, Cas?” the taller man said. The one with the killer cheekbones.
“No.” He looked at his watch. “You two better stop dithering and order. We need to get back.”
“After you,” the taller man said, looking between the board and me. “I can’t decide.”
“Er… can I get a cappuccino too, please? Just with normal milk.”
“Sure,” I said as I reached under the counter to start grabbing a selection of takeaway cups. “What size did you want?”
“Just a regular. I don’t need as much caffeine as them. And can I get one of the cornflake nests too, please?” He smiled at me warmly then turned to his companion. “Come on, Henry, what do you want?”
The taller man, Henry, gave me a dazzling smile that revealed perfect white teeth.
Definitely something to do with the filming.
The name Henry nagged in the back of my head, but the rest of me was too busy trying to make coffee.
“I’ll have a large latte also with an extra shot, please.
And…” He glanced at the cabinet filled with baked goods that Spencer had been up making since five. “What would you recommend?”
I tried not to sigh with irritation. I wasn’t a baker and I didn’t know what anyone else except me liked. It was all very well saying I loved this Danish or that cake, but as soon as I did, the other person was bound to say, Oh, I don’t like that.
Why fucking ask if they already knew they didn’t like things I might suggest?
“What do you like?” I asked, letting my eyes meet his.
“I’m open to anything,” he said and from somewhere beside him, someone sighed. Was he trying to flirt with me? Cute, but that wasn’t happening. Ever.
“Try the apple and miso Danish then. Sounds like an unusual combination but it works.”
“I like the sound of that.” He looked me up and down, and I knew he was taking in my eyeliner, tattoo sleeves, and dark nail polish. “Unusual things can sometimes be the best.”
I stared at him, expression neutral. “Seriously? You’re going with that?”
“With what?”
“Unusual things can sometimes be the best,” I said sarcastically. “If you’re trying to flirt with me, don’t. You’re not good at it.” Someone snorted and another one of them muttered, “Ouch.” I turned to Gemma and just said, “That’ll be twenty-eight ninety-five. Cash or card?”
Gemma paid with her card and I hurriedly made all their drinks and slid their food into individual paper bags.
Henry was staring at me, his mouth open like a shocked goldfish.
I almost wanted to say something. “Thanks so much,” Gemma said, taking twenty quid out of her purse and putting it into the little tip cup someone had put by the till.
They took their drinks and headed towards the door. I watched them leave, almost relieved to see the back of them.
“Alex,” said Spencer’s shocked voice from behind me, and I turned to see him and Cleo standing in the kitchen door. “Please don’t tell me you just snarked at Henry Lu?”
“What?”
“Fucking Christ,” Spencer muttered. “Bro, that was Henry Lu. The actor.”
“And Gemma Lee, Tamsin Chu, and Jude Kane,” Cleo added. She was practically vibrating in shock. Or maybe it was excitement. “Holy fuck, Jude Kane was here and you didn’t even fucking tell me. That’s twice I’ve missed him!”
“I… That wasn’t…” I glanced back at the door as if the group of people would magically reappear.
There was something about Henry’s smile and casual flirting that had gotten under my skin and irritated me in a way I hadn’t experienced in years.
“Well, next time you can deal with them. Henry Lu is a fucking ass.”