Chapter 5
On Monday morning, the scent of roasted coffee beans and the hiss of an espresso machine greeted Willow as she entered the coffee shop closest to Kudos Entertainment.
Oh wow. Apparently, every person working in the Lloyd District had the same idea. The line stretched from the two open registers almost to the door.
Willow thought about turning around and leaving, but the door opened again and someone walked in behind her, blocking her path.
“Excuse me, are you waiting in line or reconsidering whether you really need your caffeine fix before work?”
Willow knew that friendly, resonant voice, didn’t she? She turned around and came face-to-face with Scottie.
She was wearing a faded denim jacket over the black polo shirt and chinos that seemed to be her work uniform. Her hair was adorably ruffled as if she’d rolled out of bed just ten minutes ago. It fell into her eyes when she looked up, and she brushed it back with a swipe of her hand.
For a second, Willow considered whirling around and pretending to be engrossed in the menu board above the register, but Scottie had already spotted her.
“Oh, hi, Willow!” Scottie’s smile broadened, and she instantly pulled out her earbuds and stuffed them into her pocket. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you from behind.”
“You mean without me lingering next to a malfunctioning device.” The quip was out before she could stop it. She hadn’t meant to say that since she was usually careful not to draw attention to her tech curse.
But Scottie just laughed. “Something like that. Hey, speaking of malfunctioning devices, turns out you were right. It was the motherboard. I submitted a request for a new one. The ones we had in stock were either for a totally different CPU socket, or they supported DDR5 RAM, and yours is DDR4, so I would have had to replace half your components, and my boss frowns on that.” She gave her an apologetic half smile. “Really sorry about the wait.”
“It’s okay,” Willow said, not wanting her to feel bad. “I’m managing just fine with the laptop.”
“Good. I should have your computer back to you on Wednesday.”
The line moved slowly, and they inched forward as they talked.
“How was your first week at Kudos?” Scottie asked.
“Fine, thanks,” Willow said.
Scottie kept looking at her, not pressuring her, just waiting with an attentive expression.
“Busy,” Willow added. “Lots of onboarding meetings, learning new software, filling out paperwork for HR, and familiarizing myself with production schedules, supply chains, and inventory systems. To be honest, I’m still finding my footing, and if it weren’t for Barb, I’d be—”
She caught herself, realizing she had once again said more than she’d intended. That was so unlike her! She wasn’t one to open up easily, especially not at work. But there was something about Scottie and her easygoing personality that made it hard to hold back.
“Scared of letting something fall through the cracks?” Scottie supplied. Her voice was gentle, and her brown eyes full of compassion.
Willow sighed. “Yeah.”
“It’s not you. I spent enough time in Ops to know that. Just watching Barb for a while made my brain feel as if it had too many tabs open.”
Scottie’s use of a computer metaphor made her smile. “That’s why I’m braving the long line this morning. I need a caffeine fix before work.”
“No judgment from me,” Scottie said. “Have they shown you where they keep the good coffee yet? That’s always my first priority.”
“They did. But I’m actually more of a tea drinker.” Again, Willow surprised herself by revealing that little personal tidbit. But it was harmless, right? Revealing her beverage preference hardly counted as oversharing.
“Don’t like the taste of coffee?”
“No, that’s not it.” Damn. She should have just nodded. She couldn’t very well tell Scottie that she preferred tea over coffee because an electric kettle was much easier and less expensive to replace than a fancy coffee machine. “I drink it every now and then. I’m just not…”
“A card-carrying member of the club?” Scottie finished for her.
“Club?”
Scottie tapped the beat-up canvas messenger bag slung across her chest. It was dotted with several colorful pins. One of them read Everything is under Ctrl, another Be nice to me. You may need tech support someday.
What caught Willow’s attention was the third pin, though.
It was a cute enamel chameleon perched on a branch, its body striped in the colors of the progressive Pride flag.
Willow’s pulse quickened. So Scottie was queer.
To be honest, the thought had crossed her mind, but she had told herself it didn’t matter.
But now that Scottie had pointed it out, Willow couldn’t help wondering…
When Scottie had remarked that she liked a woman who was prepared for anything or told Willow she knew how to make an IT professional swoon, had she been flirting?
Or was she joking around like that with everyone?
Scottie tilted her head and tapped the canvas directly above the pins, clearly waiting for a reply.
Oh. Willow stared at the rainbow-striped chameleon. Was Scottie asking whether she was gay too? Heat shot up Willow’s chest. She clutched the strap of her purse as if it were a lifeline. “Uh, I…um…yes.” To her annoyance, her voice went up an octave.
“Yes?”
“Yes, I’m part of the club.”
There. It was out. She was out. Outing herself to one of the company’s IT techs hadn’t been on her to-do list, yet still it had happened. How on earth had they gone from discussing beverage preferences to talking about her sexual orientation?
Scottie still looked at her with that questioning expression, as if she didn’t quite understand. “But didn’t you just say…?”
“I’m gay,” Willow added, forcing herself not to lower her voice to a whisper. If Scottie wasn’t afraid to display her rainbow chameleon, neither was she. “A lesbian.”
Scottie stared at her.
Was that really such a surprise? Willow knew she could easily pass for straight, but Scottie’s baffled expression seemed way over the top, as if Willow couldn’t possibly be a member of the LGBTQ+ community.
A flicker of irritation flared in her chest. She didn’t have to cut her hair short and wear flannel, Doc Martens, or a rainbow bracelet to be queer enough, thank you very much!
Then she was annoyed at her own annoyance. Why would she care about what Scottie thought of her?
Scottie blinked once more, then burst out laughing. “No, no, no!” she got out between amused snorts.
“Yes!” Willow shot back, heat in her face.
“No, I meant…” Scottie finally reined in her laughter, but a broad grin still stretched across her face. “That wasn’t what I was asking, but it’s delightful to know anyway.” Eyes twinkling, she tapped her messenger bag again. “I meant the club of not-so-anonymous coffee addicts.”
Willow realized Scottie hadn’t pointed at the queer chameleon; she had pointed at another pin, one that depicted a battery icon and a coffee mug next to the words Coffee-powered.
Oh my God. Willow wanted to crawl behind the counter and never come out again—pun intended. For once, she prayed for a tech glitch, for every system in the coffee shop to fail…anything to get Scottie’s attention away from her and her probably bright-red face.
“No,” she finally choked out without looking at Scottie, “I’m not a member of that club.”
Scottie reached over, wrapped her fingers lightly around Willow’s wrist, and gave a gentle squeeze.
“That’s all right. We need more tea drinkers in the club—the other club—anyway.
To balance out all the espresso-fueled chaos.
I’m a proud member of both clubs, by the way.
A lesbian with a latte addiction. Just in case you were wondering. ”
Willow didn’t know what to say. She stared at the strong fingers still curled around her arm, then at Scottie’s smile that radiated acceptance. At least she hadn’t zapped her through the layers of her sweater and coat.
“Next!” the barista snapped.
Thank you, thank you, thank you! Willow had never been so glad in her life to be interrupted by a grumpy barista.
She’d been so focused on their conversation and her own mortification that she hadn’t noticed the person in front of her finishing their order.
Quickly, she stepped up to the counter and tried to act as if she accidentally outed herself in coffee shops every day.
“Hi! Could I get a medium chai latte to go, please?”
“Would you like whole milk, two percent, soy, almond, or oat?”
“Whole milk is perfect, thanks.”
“Great.” The barista typed in her order. “That’ll be $6.25.”
Willow took her wallet from her purse and pulled out a ten-dollar bill.
The barista shook her head and pointed at a sign on the counter that said, No cash. Card only.
Groaning inwardly, Willow pulled out her credit card and tapped it against the POS terminal, careful not to touch it directly.
The screen flickered, then showed an error message: Transaction failed.
The barista pressed her lips together. “Try again, please.”
Willow did.
The screen went black, and the entire system froze.
“Great,” the barista mumbled. She leaned over the register, gave the terminal a hearty tap, and pressed a button.
Nothing.
“Sorry,” the barista said. “Give me a sec. I need to restart it.”
A collective groan rose from the line behind Willow.
Figures. The day had barely started, and it was already going downhill. Normally, she brought tea from home for exactly this reason. She didn’t even want to imagine what Scottie must be thinking.
But Scottie just looked over from where she was paying at the second register to her right with a sympathetic smile. “You’ve really had a run of bad luck with tech lately, huh?”
Willow forced a laugh, trying to pretend this was something out of the ordinary and not an everyday occurrence for her. “You can say that again.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got you.” Scottie indicated to the barista at her register to add Willow’s chai latte to her order.
When Willow wanted to hand her the ten-dollar bill, Scottie waved her off. “My treat.”
Willow frowned. “You don’t have to—”
“You can get me next time.”
Next time? Who had said there would be a next time? Willow didn’t go to coffee with colleagues—especially not queer colleagues she’d just accidentally come out to and who might misinterpret it as a date.
She hesitated, but she was out of options since the coffee shop didn’t take cash. Sighing, she slid her wallet back into her purse. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Scottie said.
Side by side, they waited for their beverages.
Scottie leaned against the pickup counter, hands in her pockets, completely at ease.
Willow couldn’t help envying her. She couldn’t remember when she had last been so relaxed and comfortable in her own skin. She stood in silence and tried to avoid glancing at Scottie or her chameleon pin.
Luckily, it didn’t take long before the barista slid over their beverages.
Paper cups in hand, they headed out.
The drizzle had stopped, and the cool air felt refreshing on Willow’s overheated cheeks.
They easily fell into step as they strolled toward Kudos’s office building.
“So,” Scottie said.
Willow tensed, sure she would ask about her club membership, her constant tech glitches, or some other too-personal topic.
“You’re a chai latte person,” Scottie said with a soft, knowing smile.
Willow took a quick sip—more to hide her relief than because she was thirsty—and nodded. “That or an Earl Grey. Like Captain Picard.”
Scottie’s smile grew. “Oh, you’re a fellow Trekkie?”
“I wouldn’t say that, but I’ve watched a few episodes.”
“Favorite character?” Scottie asked, now all serious, as if she were conducting a job interview and Willow’s answer would decide whether she got hired.
Tasha Yar, Willow wanted to say. But then Scottie might think she was into strong blondes with slightly shaggy hair.
B’Elanna Torres, the Voyager’s chief engineer, was out too because Willow didn’t want Scottie to assume she had a thing for women who could fix stuff.
And she definitely couldn’t name Scotty, the engineer of the original series. “Spot, the cat,” she finally said.
Scottie laughed. “Best answer ever. Why do I get the feeling you watched way more than just a few episodes?”
Willow bit back the playful banter at the tip of her tongue. Why was it so easy to slip into this effortless rhythm with Scottie—as if they were old friends…or on their third date? “Who’s your favorite?”
“Easy,” Scottie replied without missing a beat. “Kira Nerys. She’s tough, fiery, and has her walls up at first, but as time goes on, we get to see her vulnerable side. Plus those nose wrinkles are just too damn cute.” She scrunched up her own nose in a way that was much too cute as well.
To Willow’s surprise, she was almost disappointed when they reached Kudos’s main entrance.
Scottie lengthened her step to reach the glass door first, but instead of entering, she held it open for Willow.
The gesture warmed Willow all over, and she quickly ducked past Scottie so she wouldn’t see her blush. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Willow’s low heels clickety-clacked on the travertine as they crossed the lobby. Scottie’s steps were silent next to her.
Again, Scottie let her enter the elevator first, then pressed the button for both their floors—thirteen for Willow, ten for herself.
Willow kept her gaze fixed on the floor numbers while the elevator carried them upstairs. Her brain fluctuated back and forth between Say something and Don’t you dare. She had revealed enough about herself for one day.
Finally, the elevator stopped on the tenth floor.
“This is me,” Scottie said as the doors slid open. “See you later.”
“Hopefully not,” Willow responded. “Uh, I mean…”
Scottie laughed, warm and genuine. “I know what you mean. Let’s hope you won’t need my services again anytime soon.”
God, she really was a maddeningly nice person.
“Have a good one!” Scottie lifted her paper cup in a silent salute, then stepped off the elevator.
The doors closed behind her before Willow could decide on how to reply.
Scottie’s laughter still seemed to echo in the elevator.
Willow’s head hadn’t stopped spinning. She stared at her reflection in the mirrored back wall of the elevator. What on earth had just happened?
She had accidentally outed herself to one of Kudos’s IT support specialists, not to mention half of Lloyd District’s caffeine addicts…and now she owed Scottie a coffee.