2. Willow
Two
Willow
“ H ey mo stóirín, it’s time to wake up! Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!”
An overly-cheerful voice stirred Willow from her deep sleep. As soon as she opened her eyes, the voice disappeared from her mind like a puff of smoke. Her chest felt heavy when she realized she had been dreaming about her mother’s once-annoying wakeup call, which was now desperately missed.
She rolled out of bed and undid the bun that was falling apart into long brown tendrils around her face. She had been so tired last night after working an unexpected 13-hour shift at her coffee house that she had come home and flopped onto her bed without taking her hair down or changing her clothes. She still had her apron tied around her waist, though it was twisted and had crept up her back to almost resemble a cape.
She stripped off her clothes, redid her bun, started her shower, and watched as the water rained down from the showerhead, feeling like she was standing in a haze. The one downfall to owning her own business was that it consumed her life. She had her own apartment, but sometimes it felt like she lived in the coffee house. It didn’t help that she had not hired anyone to work for her yet, but it was at the top of her list of things to do within the next few weeks. Or months. Or far in the future whenever she had time.
Once the water reached near-boiling, she got inside and let it run down her body, calming her nerves and untangling her sore muscles. She couldn’t decide if she felt off because of her dream about her deceased mother, or the fact that she was overworking herself.
As of now, she worked from nine p.m. to seven a.m. every day except Sunday, her one day off. She made a mental note to change the hours her coffee house was open. Her current time was not working for her because she always had a line to the door right at closing time.
Last night had been especially brutal since the line did not end until ten a.m. People either did not see her “Hours of Operation” sign hung right in the middle of the front door at eye level, or they just didn’t care. She didn’t have the heart to turn away customers, either.
Tonight she would put her foot down and lock the doors at seven a.m., line or no line.
She told herself she wasn’t complaining and loved the extra cash that came with the longer hours, but she could feel herself getting burned out. She couldn’t even take a relaxing shower without thinking about work. Her apartment was a mess, she hadn’t had the energy to wash her hair this week, and she was not eating due to all the stress. She had dropped down to one meal a day, and it was usually fast food.
She sighed and mumbled a not-so-encouraging pep talk to herself. “Just a few more days and I get a break.”
She toweled herself off and looked in the foggy mirror. Her eyes were sunken and her hair a greasy bird’s nest, but her body looked better than it ever had. She might be on the edge of a mental breakdown, but she’d lost the extra fat around her waist and her arms were toning up from putting away the truck orders by herself. It surprised her how heavy one box of paper cups could be, especially when she had to chuck it on a top shelf.
Once she was done in the bathroom, she grabbed some orange juice and groaned. It was already 8:15 p.m., which gave her just a few more minutes of free time before she had to leave to open her café.
The idea of a midnight coffee house had been in the back of her mind for a while. She had always wanted to be a female business owner and had been saving money for that dream since she was in high school. She came up with the business plan when her ex-boyfriend had worked the midnight shift at a factory and complained about never having anywhere to go during his lunch break. She tried to share it with him once, but was instantly shut down by his criticisms.
When she moved to Florida, she decided since she was starting a new life, she would also start her dream. And so she opened her midnight coffee house and named it The Coffee House Bunny in dedication to her pet rabbit, Snickers. She’d even shelled out the extra money to get a custom logo of him made for the sign.
Willow walked around her kitchen twice before finally deciding to spend her fifteen minutes of freedom washing the dishes that were piling up in her sink. She let out a startled scream when a small army of fruit flies sprung up from a mug. She glared at the buzzing cloud as they dispersed through her kitchen, thinking about how she’d left her past behind to live a life of being overworked to the point her home had become a breeding ground for insects.
Even with burnout on the horizon, she was glad she had made the move and felt like she was restarting her life. There were 1,188 miles between Detroit, Michigan and Vista Maria, Florida. 1,188 miles between her past and her new life.
She tried to push away the unpleasant thoughts of her ex-boyfriend and focused on the dishes before her. When that didn’t work, she thoroughly washed the serrated knife, imagining it was covered in his blood and she was on an episode of 20/20 .
She smiled at her violent little thought.
Before she knew it, she was back at The Coffee House Bunny turning on the lights and starting the first brew of the night. She fell into her usual rhythm and her night began like any other. Standing on her tiptoes, she restocked the espresso beans in her espresso machine. Dumping the long, silver bag into the containers that were perched on top released the relaxing scent of coffee, which would forever bring her a sense of peace. Before flipping on her open sign, she did one last sweep of the café so that it was presentable to her customers. With the flip of a few switches, she was ready to start her night.
“Hey Willow!” A boy with short brown hair, thick framed glasses, and a lanky build walked in and sat at the counter connected to the register. His friend who looked similar, but with darker hair, trailed quietly behind him. They were both wearing their usual blue WebRX polos and black slacks.
“Hey guys, busy night tonight at work?” She smiled at them and prepared their usual drinks. John liked his plain cappuccino and Ryan enjoyed his flat white.
“Actually, it’s been pretty slow. Once we finished that website rebuild from last week, we just had a normal workload. We’ve mostly been dealing with customers from Australia calling in with minor problems. I feel more like an IT consultant than a web developer.” John took his drink and paid her, making sure to leave his typical two-dollar tip.
The tip was small, but he made sure to come every night, and it added up. Willow preferred his company over his money, anyway. Most of her business consisted of regular customers, some more friendly than others. John was the friendliest, with Ryan hardly ever saying a word or barely making eye contact. She’d once accidentally touched Ryan’s hand while handing him his drink, and he’d almost passed out. John pulled her aside and explained that Ryan had never been given positive affection by a woman before, and not to take it personally.
“Maybe I’m in the wrong field. I should have started a techy business instead of a coffee house. I would kill for a slow night.” As soon as those words were out of her mouth, three more customers walked through her door.
It wasn’t long before her business filled up with nurses and factory workers laughing and chatting while on their breaks. Once she was caught up with all the orders, she looked around. Her counter resided in the back center of the store, so she had full view of her shop.
When she’d first rented the building, it had been ready to go thanks to her landlord, Clay. He had been more than helpful with getting her set up, and had allowed her to make minor changes to make the retro diner more modern.
She kept the purple and white vinyl booths and tables, because she wanted to go with a lighter color scheme, the opposite of the typical dark browns of most coffee houses. Her customers were already tired from being up all night and hardly ever got to see the sun, so she’d wanted to provide them a bright place to relax.
She watched as a factory worker covered in grease stains tried to put the moves on a tired-looking nurse who smiled and seemed revived by the compliments. In the corner booth, she saw a drunk couple coddling their coffees, occasionally looking at each other and giggling about the mischief they had been up to that night. From the corner of her eye, she caught another couple in a booth holding hands under the table. Love was in the air, and it was starting to smother her.
She was tired of being alone, but alone was how she felt the safest. She had opened her life up once for a man she thought she could trust, only to find out he was worse than a monster.
She pushed back more intrusive thoughts of her ex-boyfriend as the four men from the other night walked in and came up to the counter. The two tallest ones of the group looked like twins, with their dark hair and olive tone skin. They were decked out in matching black leather jackets and grey ripped jeans. The only thing telling them apart was that one had shorter hair and freckles sprinkled across his nose—or possibly it was dirt, she couldn’t really tell. The other one had straight hair past his shoulders and was wearing a single earring. It took her a second to notice that the silver cross hanging from his left earlobe was upside down.
“Hey gorgeous, we came back because your coffee is so good.” The possibly freckled, possibly just dirty one smiled and leaned against the counter. “I’ll take a double shot venti macchiato with just a hint of caramel.”
“And I’ll do the same, without the caramel,” the other one said.
“I feel like these are going to become your usual drinks. And if you’re going to become regular customers, I need your names.”
His earring dangled as he leaned against the counter. “My name’s Horatio, and this is my idiot brother Matteo. The cool cat over there is Nikolas, and Mr. Grumpy Pants is Gage.”
She noticed that Gage was staring daggers into the back of Horatio’s head, but ignored him and turned her smile to Nikolas. He looked like a man who didn’t have a care in the world. Everything about him seemed relaxed, from the long hair loosely braided down his back, to the black button-down shirt that was left unbuttoned to reveal a white undershirt with a turquoise necklace resting above it. He was the shortest of the group, thicker around the waist, and had the kindest brown eyes she had ever seen. There was a sense of quiet confidence wafting off him.
“And what are you having?”
“The same as yesterday too. Your house blend was the best I’ve ever had,” he said with a half-smile that made her heart skip a beat .
“Well thank you.” She smiled back at him before turning her attention to the last man.
He looked like a surfer, minus a golden tan, and his windblown hair gave her the hint that he’d rode in on a motorcycle. He had broad shoulders and rough hands that looked like he built things for a living. She felt like a man as she tried not to stare at how his tight black shirt accentuated his muscular chest and arms. He was the only White one out of all of them, with shaggy blonde hair and green eyes that looked annoyed. She wasn’t sure if it was that expression or his attractive looks that made her nervous.
“Still no liquor license, do you want anything? I can give you an empty cup so you don’t feel left out from your friends.”
“The black coffee was fine.”
She slapped her hand on her chest in mock surprise. “Wow, I thought you didn’t drink it. I swore I threw away a full cup of coffee after you left.”
“I didn’t, but it was nice having something to toy with while we were talking. Your thick mud of a coffee was fun to poke at.”
Her nervousness was starting to drain away, replaced by annoyance when she realized he was a douche. She wasn’t surprised, though—most attractive guys were.
“Well maybe my mud would taste better if you let me turn it into a latte and add some flavor.”
“I don’t feel like getting diabetes tonight, and actually I can’t stay anyway, so skip the drink.”
“You don’t want one for the road?”
“I’m not a dork, I don’t have a cup holder on my bike.” He rolled his eyes before walking out the door.
As she turned to start their drinks, she noticed Matteo frown. “There’s nothing wrong with a cup holder, how else would I hold my whiskey?”
“In a flask in your pocket like a real man,” Horatio teased.
Willow smiled and wished she had a sibling to banter with, but she was an only child. She wasn’t raised with a big family, and now that both her parents were deceased, she had none. Maybe in the future she could build her own family, but for now she was content with her café and her customers.
To her surprise, the boys took their drinks to go. She peered out the window and watched as they got on their motorcycles, which were perfectly parked in a row by the front door. She let out a breathy chuckle as she watched all three of them place their drinks in their cup holders before revving their engines and taking off.
“Ugh, they give me the heebie jeebies,” John laughed awkwardly from the other end of the counter. “I know you have to be nice to them because they’re customers, but be careful, okay? We’ve got to get back to work. Goodnight, Willow.”
Willow scrunched her brow, but John and Ryan were already headed toward the door before she could ask what he meant.
She was still thinking about his odd warning when Clay walked in an hour later. He looked around with a smile that crinkled the corner of his eyes. She still couldn’t pinpoint his age, he appeared to be late twenties or early thirties, but his personality and knowledge made him seem much, much older.
He was the first person she had met when she moved to Vista Maria, and he had taken it upon himself to give her the rundown of the city. He’d told her which restaurants were the best, what neighborhoods were the safest, and had even helped her find her apartment. He had been nervous when she told him she wanted to open a midnight coffee house, but she’d assured him that she wasn’t new to the nightlife. She used to work nights at a gas station in Detroit. If she could handle the crackheads and drunks there, Vista Maria would be no different.
“I was driving past and thought I would stop in and see how you’re doing.” He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his dress pants when he arrived at the counter. She had only ever seen him dressed in a suit with suspenders and wire rimmed glasses that gave him an 80’s Wall Street vibe.
“Thanks for checking, I’ve been busy, but busy is good. Can I get you anything to drink? It’s on the house.”
“I’ll take an Americano.”
“I can make that decaf if you like, I know it’s getting late.” She looked at the clock and noticed it was even later than she thought. How odd that he would still be up and dressed at this hour.
“I need all the caffeine I can get, I have a long night ahead of me. We’re short staffed at the casino, so I’ll be stuck there all night.”
“Oh! I didn’t know you worked at the casino. I haven’t had a chance to go there yet, but I’ve been having the urge to play some slots.”
He laughed and not-so-subtly slipped a twenty into her tip box. “I don’t work there, I own it. It was one of my first big businesses I started with my brother way back when. But tonight I’ll be working, since I can’t seem to hire staff that want to stay.”
“Well I hope your night goes fast for you, I can’t imagine it would be that busy on a weekday night.”
“This is Florida, and a prime vacation place right by the ocean. Trust me, this city never sleeps and loves to gamble.”
“You got a point. Thanks again for checking in on me, I really do appreciate it.”
“No problem. If you ever need anything, feel free to reach out to me. Take care, kiddo.”
A warm feeling spread through her stomach and up her chest as she waved goodbye. When she’d first met him, she had been taken aback by his caring kindness. Now, she cherished it. He seemed to want nothing from her but to have her be successful in this city. She’d never known what it felt like to have a father, since hers had passed when she was a baby, but she assumed it felt something similar to talking with Clay.