Chapter 5
MADDIE
We were in the dead zone of the morning after the nine o’clock rush, and I checked the clock for the hundredth time.
“Oh, God,” groaned Romeo miserably as he chugged his third detox shot of the morning. I kept an entire jug in the fridge for him after family dinner night on the first weekend of the month.
“Romeo,” said Shayla, looking up from her computer, “you have got to stop eating your mom’s spaghetti.”
“I can’t! She would know something was wrong with me!”
I looked around the shop. There was only sweet Mr. Benjamin, who was deaf as a post, and he was staring out the window and enjoying his coffee with hearing aids on the table in front of him.
“Romeo, you’re a vampire now,” I said. “You’re going to have to tell your mom eventually.”
“If I tell her, she will say I’m going to hell, and then she’ll have a heart attack and die.”
“Then tell her to stop putting garlic in the spaghetti,” said Shayla.
“That would be the same result, although she would probably beat me with a wooden spoon first. What would that even be? Who would want to eat that?”
“Romeo, you swell up like a real housewife who got a sweet deal on filler. It’s not healthy!
” Shayla had a point, but I thought it was a losing battle.
Cat Shifters didn’t seem too worried about religion, other than to perform the periodic ritual of pushing a mug onto the floor.
Shayla was never going to understand the chokehold of Italian Catholic guilt.
“As long as Maddie keeps making the Deadly Nightshade potions, I will be fine,” said Romeo. “And my mother will not be able to say that she told me not to go to any goth events before having a heart attack and dying.”
Shayla chuckled, but I checked the clock again.
“You’re really excited about Mr. Yummy?” asked Romeo.
“Felix,” I corrected him. “And I’m not really excited. I’m just hopeful that he’ll be able to help.”
Romeo looked over at Shayla, and their skeptical look was entirely mutual. Romeo’s was just a bit puffier.
“That’s if he shows up,” I said, looking at the clock again.
“He’ll show,” said Romeo confidently.
“You can’t be sure,” I said. “Maybe he regretted making the offer.”
“Not after you gave him a pumpkin spice pat down,” said Romeo. “I’m sure he’ll be here.”
“That is a reason not to show,” I said. “No one likes having coffee poured on them.”
“No, but I’m pretty sure he liked the clean-up all down his aisle five,” said Romeo, and Shayla laughed.
“Would you two stop? This is just a friendly meeting to talk business. There’s nothing romantic going on. It’s business.”
“Uh-huh,” said Romeo. “Business.”
The bell over the door jangled, and I straightened and tried to catch my breath as I saw a familiar broad-shouldered frame fill out the doorway.
Business.
It was just business.
FELIX
Outside was cold and blustery, but inside Deja Brew was warm and a little muggy. There was some sort of international jazz playing, and the air smelled of roasted coffee, fresh plants, and the delicious peachy smell of Maddie.
Maddie was talking about how she’d joined a coffee-buying co-op that allowed them to leverage their shared buying power to offer farmers rates competitive with the big chains.
I nodded along. Her commitment to ethical fair-trade practices was great, and I ought to be paying attention to more than the delightful way her lips moved, but I knew about coffee co-ops and thought I could zone out for another minute or two.
Today was a messy bun day, and I loved the way tendrils of hair floated around her face.
I’d felt like an idiot this morning as I tried to pick out an outfit that didn’t scream either trying too hard or corporate jerk. As a result, I’d felt flustered when I arrived, but Maddie had seemed equally at sea, and that had somehow made me feel better.
Her folder of paperwork was thick, color-coded, and contained about ninety-eight percent of what she needed.
She just didn’t know it. She was suffering from imposter syndrome and a couple of holes in her research that I knew we could fix.
She needed to record her processes and make decisions about franchising or maintaining ownership, but expansion was easily within her grasp.
“I’m sorry,” said Maddie. “I’m getting on my soapbox. I just hate big corporate coffee like Cometcents. They offered to buy me out last year. I turned them down. But they still put in a franchise on the corner.”
I froze, then frowned, puzzled.
“There isn’t one there now.”
In the ten years I’d spent working for Cometcents, I’d made location longevity one of their brand hallmarks. Not that I wanted to mention that portion of my resume to Maddie.
“That is because they shockingly went out of business,” said Romeo, coming by and putting down a tiny espresso cup for me and a juice for Maddie. “They had a hard time keeping staff. Employees just kept wandering off in the middle of the day.”
“Mmm,” said Maddie, sipping her juice. “It’s almost as if someone hypnotized them and sent them home.”
“I know!” exclaimed Romeo. “So weird, right?”
I couldn’t help chuckling as Romeo headed back to the counter.
The Deja Brew crew were so quirky. How Maddie got them all headed in the right direction was anyone’s guess, but I was beginning to suspect that she was one top hat away from being the ringmaster of a coffee-oriented circus.
It was clearly part of the secret to Deja Brew’s success.
“You know,” I said thoughtfully, “I think what you need to decide is what parts of Deja Brew you want to duplicate at a new location and what parts you can systematize.”
“I’ve never been good at systems,” said Maddie. “I don’t like the idea of locking people into things that might not work.”
“Systems can be time savers that get jobs done faster.”
Maddie looked around the shop. “We’ve developed our own methods. I suppose there could be more efficient ways to do things.”
“When you start a new location, it helps to have the systems mapped out so that employees don’t have to waste time inventing something new. You should record what you’re doing now and then also look at your competitors to see what they’re doing.”
“How do I look at competitors?” asked Maddie.
“You go in and buy a coffee,” I said.
“I couldn’t do that!”
“Yes, you can,” I said, laughing. “You can pay for a beverage and sit in their shops just like everyone else.”
Maddie grimaced nervously. “I don’t think I could! I would feel like a spy.”
“I’ll go with you,” I said, laughing. “We can go tomorrow.”
“You’re helping so much,” protested Maddie. “I feel like I’m taking advantage of you!”
“So far, all I’ve done is reorganize your papers and drink your coffee. I think I can make the effort. Besides, I think once you see what I’m talking about with systems, you’ll be clearer in your own head, and that will help you move forward.”
“I just feel like I’m taking a bunch of your time.”
“It’s my time. I can spend it how I want. I’ve spent way too long rushing through people to get to work. I’m tired of it. I want to connect with people.”
I stopped talking as I realized I’d probably said too much.
“That is literally why I started Deja Brew,” said Maddie. “I was tired of feeling like I was on the outside of life. I wanted to connect to people.”
“Then let’s connect,” I said, lifting my espresso cup. “I’ll come by tomorrow, and we’ll go coffee shopping.”
“I would love to coffee shop with you.” Maddie smiled at me, and I tried not to sigh.
Business.
This was just business.