Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Emily moved between the polished counters and set of steaming espresso machines, explaining the craft like an artist in a studio while the three new hires watched with doubtful eyes. “It’s all about speed and precision,” she said, her voice carrying over the music that Sue and Bryan had picked out.
As she watched them work, she noted that speed was not on the menu for them. Neither was foam art or smooth shots of espresso. Their half-hearted nods told her that much. She ran through her instructions once more, only to catch whispered complaints that soured the air.
Nancy huffed, giving a frustrated look to Emily. “Why do we have to have this music on?”
Emily forced a grin, though inwardly, the irritation nipped at her. “Music stays. Customers like it. You’ll learn to like it, too.”
“I’m not sure I’ll like anything about this,” Nancy grumbled.
Emily pretended not to hear and kept her smile intact. They’d come around. She’d make sure of it.
She moved behind the counter, flipping her black hair out of her eyes as she showed them the machine’s workings for what felt like the hundredth time. “Finesse and patience offer the best results,” Emily told them, demonstrating a silky foam.
“How do you do that? It seemed to materialize from thin air,” Sue stated in awe.
“You’ll get it soon enough,” Emily told the other woman as she finished putting the foam on the top of the espresso.
Emily continued to work with them for another hour, but she could tell she wasn’t getting anywhere. The front of the shop bustled with delivery workers and local teens eager to sneak a peek at the new coffee shop, and the noise made it feel like they were practicing in the middle of a carnival. Emily was used to this, but she could tell it was distracting to her trainees.
“You guys look ready for a break,” Emily shouted over the racket, sensing the lost cause as the three stood still like deer in headlights.
The more she showed them, the less they seemed to get it. Four days, and she felt like she had nothing to show for all the hard work.
Sue set down her frothing pitcher with an exaggerated sigh. “We were ready a long time ago,” she said, glancing at the other two with a nod.
Emily was tempted to hold them back, but she was worried another round of murmured complaints would end up in a revolt. Instead, she kept her mouth shut as she watched the trio file out, leaving Emily surrounded by a mess of scattered cups and dirty rags.
She did her best to clean up the hectic scene so she would be ready when they started again. “New towels, that’s what I need.” She headed to the supply closet to grab some fresh ones when she heard voices.
“She’s a real monster, isn’t she,” Bryan grumbled.
Emily ducked back before they could see her, not wanting them to know she could hear their conversation.
“You can say that again. She acts like she’s the Queen of Coffee,” Nancy mocked.
“She thinks she can just boss us around, but we all know that Mark is the one in charge, not her,” Sue stated in a huff. “I wish he was the one training us with those hunky muscles and dreamy eyes.”
Emily rocked back on her heels, shocked. Not only because they were talking negatively about her behind her back but also because she had no idea that Sue had a crush on Mark. A part of Emily immediately felt territorial as if he belonged to her, but another part told herself it was none of her business.
“Don’t start that again,” Nancy snapped. “It’s not proper to have a crush on your boss.”
Emily couldn’t agree more, but she wasn’t about to get involved in the situation.
“Either way, we all can agree that Miss Wilson is the problem, and she’s going to ruin this place,” Bryan growled out.
It took all her strength not to march right up to them and tell them that they were wrong. The truth was, they were the problem, and they didn’t even want to see it. They’d never be ready for the opening if they continued this way, and yet, they seemed to want to blame her for their shortcomings.
She needed to be anywhere other than listening to them complain. She reminded herself that there was a growing mound of supplies in the back room needing attention. The first thing she noticed when she entered the supply room was the stacks of coffee bags that looked like they might collapse under their weight. A leaning tower of unopened boxes added to the chaos, a reflection of her day. She kicked a stray box in frustration, her thoughts on Mark, the ambitious shop owner, and how he’d better appreciate this. When she’d agreed to train the staff for the new location, she hadn’t imagined a hoard of know-it-alls with zero interest in learning proper procedures.
Emily picked up a stray bag of coffee beans, tossing it lightly between her hands. Was it worth it? Should she stay here and tough the situation out? There were worse things than admitting defeat and going home early.
“Okay, it’s all right,” she encouraged herself, slamming the bag down on the shelf. “You’re not one for giving up. Don’t start that now.”
Before she knew what was happening, she could see the shelf shaking, and the bags of beans shifting. “Oh no,” she cried out.
Then, out of nowhere, Mark appeared beside her, his tall frame taking up all the space. They both reached to catch a falling bag, and their hands collided. Her pulse seemed to echo through the tiny room.
“Didn’t mean to surprise you,” Mark said, his deep voice making the small space feel even smaller.
Emily hesitated, placing the bag back in place with Mark’s help. “I’m usually ready for surprises.” She let go of the bag first, their fingers lingering on each other’s for an awkward moment before they both pulled back.
Mark gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher. “Long day?”
“More like a long week,” Emily said, shaking her head. The second she got a moment to herself, Mark had a way of appearing. She wondered if he had any clue how distracting he was.
“If you need to talk about it—” he started, but before he could finish, there was a shout from the front of the coffee shop.
“Can I get some help out here,” Nancy called out.
They both moved at once, nearly colliding again, but Mark stepped back, letting her go first.
“Sorry,” she murmured, moving past him, her body brushing against his in the process and causing electricity to shoot through her body. She wasn’t expecting that to happen, but she did her best to ignore it.
Emily braced herself as she came into the main room of the coffee shop. “What’s going on?”
The pointed looks from the baristas told her this time they weren’t overreacting.
An older woman with white curls and a determined scowl stood in front of the main counter, complaining to Sue.
“Can I help you?” Emily asked, plastering on a smile as the woman gave her a fierce, head-to-toe glance. She’d seen that look before. Angry customers always went straight to the top of the chain.
“Who’s the boss around here?” The older woman squinted, her sharp eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I’m guessing it’s not you,” she barked, hands on hips. “You tell your boss Birdie Jackson is here to see him right now.”
Emily admired the other woman’s determination, but she wasn’t going to give into her demands. “If you have a problem, you can tell it to me,” she said, hoping to defuse the situation before it got out of hand.
“Tell you? I hardly think so,” Birdie snorted.
Emily sighed, thinking of a hundred other places she’d rather be. She’d always had a way of attracting the angry ones. “Look, you know?—”
“Thank you, Emily, but I can handle this,” Mark said, coming up from behind her to deal with the older woman.
Birdie gave a huff that could’ve powered a windmill. “I’m here to tell you we don’t want you in this town.”
“Well, that’s a new one,” Mark muttered. “What do you mean by that?”
“You think we need another coffee place around here?” Birdie’s voice rose with anger. “We’ve got Belinda’s cafe already.”
“The one on Main Street?” Mark questioned.
Birdie nodded with a glare. “The Dream Bean has been here forever, and now you want to move in and steal Belinda’s customers.”
“Well, that’s all the way across town,” Emily commented, remembering the location from her notes when she went over the details with Mark.
“I picked this spot on the Waterfront for that very reason,” Mark added. “And I’ve talked to Belinda about this already, and she’s fine with us opening our coffee shop over here.”
“Isn’t that convenient,” Birdie said, unconvinced. “Taking all the tourists away from the Dream Bean.”
Emily’s frustration boiled beneath her composed surface. What was it with this woman? Why did she seem to think she had a right to get involved in their business? She was tempted to tell the other woman just that, but she was smart enough to know it was better to not make things worse. She decided to keep her irritation in check. “Look, we’re not trying to cause trouble. All we want?—”
“I don’t care what any of you want,” Birdie cut Emily off. “Don’t think you can fool anyone around here with your foreign beans and fancy coffee drinks. ”
“Miss Jackson, that isn’t what we’re trying to do. We simply want to provide delicious drinks in a fun and friendly atmosphere.”
“Humph, if you say so,” Birdie snorted. “Just know, I’ll be watching you,” she declared with a wag of her finger as if she had a score to settle.
Emily couldn’t help but notice that Mark kept his easy smile intact. “He should get a medal for patience,” she thought to herself.
Birdie turned with a flair, heading for the door in dramatic fashion.
Once the older woman was gone, Mark laughed, a sound that shocked Emily. “You get used to Birdie,” he said, nudging her with a reassuring elbow.
Emily shook her head with skepticism. “Do you?”
“She’s just part of the town’s quirks,” Mark told Emily with a shrug. “At least that’s what everyone keeps telling me.”
She wanted to argue with him that outbursts weren’t something to accept at his place of business, but then she reminded herself that she was only there temporarily. It was none of her concern, and she should stay out of the politics of the town.
“We don’t want you.” The words echoed in her mind, stubborn as the woman who’d said them. A couple of weeks, she told herself, and she’d be able to head off to another location to train baristas at a new Brave Badge.
She fought back a sigh, pretending not to see Mark’s amused expression as she clapped her hands. “Let’s get back to work.”
Before Emily knew it, it was closing time. She busied herself putting away the last of the ingredients when Mark joined her and leaned against the counter. “Survived another day, huh? ”
Emily shrugged. “If you can call it that.”
Mark rubbed his chin as if thinking before he asked, “You up for going with me to J’s?”
Emily furrowed her brows together in confusion. “What’s that? A bar? Do I look like I need a drink?”
Mark laughed with a shake of his head. “No, it’s the local diner. I figured burgers might be a good reward for making it through the first day of training.”
Emily had planned to crash at the hotel and order room service, but his offer sounded much better. “If you’re buying,” she said, grabbing her jacket.
Mark shook his head in mock defeat. “Guess I’m buying.”
They arrived at the diner a few minutes later. Emily noticed right away the friendly vibe that flowed through it. The place was lively with bits of conversation and laughter bouncing off the walls.
Mark motioned to a booth in the corner, and they slid into the vinyl seats. Neon lights buzzed above them, casting a colorful glow on the red-and-white tiles. The table had already seen a lot of action that night, the ketchup bottle sticky with fingerprints and the salt shaker nearly empty.
Emily gave him a tired smile as she leaned back with an audible sigh. “This place is great.”
“The menu’s pretty simple,” he warned, watching her. “But everything is great.”
“Perfect,” she nodded without picking up a menu. “The fewer choices, the better.”
The server, a cheerful girl in her late teens, came by and set down two waters. “The usual, Mark?” she asked, already jotting on her pad.
Mark nodded. “Same for her.”
Emily raised an eyebrow, more amused than annoyed. “You don’t even know what I like. ”
“That’s part of the fun,” he told her.
Emily rolled her eyes, but the tension from earlier had finally lifted. As soon as the waitress left, she launched into a rapid-fire recap of her day, the words spilling out after holding them in for so long. “It was a disaster. They have no idea what they’re doing, and they keep trying to blame me. And that busybody. Birdie? She was something else.”
“Now that Birdie got that out of her system, she shouldn’t be a problem. And if anyone can whip the baristas into shape, it’s you,” Mark encouraged.
“I hope you’re right,” she told him just as their burgers arrived. Emily attacked hers with the urgency of a starving castaway. Mark watched, clearly entertained by the whole show.
Her gaze drifted to the counter, where a man sat alone, his eyes glued to their table. He looked out of place among the locals, his stiff posture and slicked-back hair a stark contrast to the casual scene. Emily tried to ignore it, but something about his presence was unsettling.
Mark followed her gaze, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Emily said, shrugging it off. “Just thought I recognized someone.”
He let it drop, and they went back to their meal. Try as she might, though, Emily’s eyes kept wandering back to the staring stranger.
She tried to focus on the conversation, on Mark’s easy laughter and the comfort of greasy diner food. But the man at the counter kept glancing their way, his attention persistent and unnerving. She’d thought leaving Hero, even for a couple of weeks, would give her the break she needed. Now, it felt like she couldn’t outrun anything.
Emily watched as the man at the counter stood up, tossed some cash on the table, and slipped out the door. Even though she knew it wasn’t anyone she knew, a sense of unease lingered.
Mark studied her with an unreadable look. “Why did that guy at the counter bother you so much?”
Emily gave a nonchalant shrug, her confidence slipping just a little. “It was nothing. I’m fine.” She picked up her glass and took a sip. She couldn’t quite meet Mark’s eyes. What was it she thought she’d find here? A new beginning? A brief escape? The past she left in Hero seemed to be right on her heels, even in a diner miles away.
Mark’s voice brought her back, his concern still evident. “You sure you’re okay?”
She put on a brave front, deflecting his questions with sarcasm and jokes. It was her best defense against feeling exposed. “Of course. Just trying to figure out if this is really the best meatloaf west of the Mississippi.” Her smile was forced, her laugh hollow.
Mark didn’t look convinced, but he let out his own chuckle. “Don’t let J hear you say that.”
Her phone buzzed and interrupted the moment. She glanced at the screen and froze. A single text message glared back at her. “You can’t hide forever, Em.”
The phone slipped from her hands and clattered onto the table. Emily stared at it, feeling the room close in on her. It was like the words had reached across the miles to find her.
Mark leaned forward, concern deepening. “What’s wrong?”
She scrambled to pick up the phone, not wanting him to see the panic in her reaction “Nothing. Just a surprise from back home,” she told him, knowing it was true in a sense.
Mark’s skepticism was evident, but he nodded slowly, not pressing her .
Emily pretended to laugh it off, then moved the conversation to talk about the training for the coffee shop while they finished up their meal. Before she knew it, they were ready to go.
The cool night air outside was a welcome relief. As they walked to the parking lot, she noticed the sky was a soft blanket of stars.
She stopped beside her motorcycle and tried to put the pieces of her scattered thoughts back together. Mark stood close, his presence both reassuring and disconcerting at the same time.
“Nice bike,” he observed as he walked around her black and chrome baby. “Have you ever really opened her up?”
His questioned prompted Emily to find a real smile. “You know it.” Then, with a tilt of her head, she probed, “You ride?”
Mark nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Mine’ll leave yours in the dust.”
“You wish,” Emily retorted, letting herself get lost in the banter.
Their dialogue shifted to a debate over the merits of various brands and models, each of them defending the one that they had. Emily felt her anxiety loosen its grip, though it still hovered at the edges of her mind.
By the time they finished, she could feel her exhaustion setting in. She let out a yawn, saying, “I think I need to call it a night.”
He nodded with a smirk. “Training those knuckleheads is going to come bright and early tomorrow morning.”
She mounted her motorcycle and gave a teasing wave. “See you tomorrow, boss.”
She slipped on her helmet and then roared her motorcycle to life. As the distance grew between them, Emily shot a lingering glance over her shoulder. The uncertainty was still there, even as she rode off into the night, but somehow, Mark made it a little bit better. And that wasn’t nothing. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but she didn’t feel like she needed to figure that out at the moment. Instead, she simply wanted to accept his friendship and be grateful for it.