Chapter 1
This café is one of the most simple yet normal places you’ll ever step into.
Wooden floors, cozy booths, a chalkboard menu with a few cool drinks like Macchiato and Latte, and light jazz playing softly in the background , the kind that makes you feel classy even when you’re crying into your coffee.
Okay, okay…it’s not that simple.
We’ve got a few irresponsible waiters, my friend and owner of this beautiful and aesthetic looking café, Alice Grimark, I call him Grim.
The only child of rich ass multi-millionaire divorced parents. You might wonder what an odd thing to call a friend, but trust me, even Grim Reaper is a failure in front of my damn friend and his depressed state which he is in since I know him, and I know him from my childhood.
Apart from him, we got a beautiful and hard-working barista and manager of this fancy café, Jennifer, me. Always in a mood to scratch someone’s face, not my fault though, people are annoying here.
Apart from all these mentally disturbed staff members including myself, there’s another huge problem at this place.
The angel and demons, not the real one, that would have been cool and much better.
They are the employees of two major companies here, competitors. The ones who always sit on the right side are from VALEMONT CORPORATION, they identify as the angels here, as declared by them. And on the left side are the demons, bold and loyal to their boss and ready to pick fights on the right ones. They belong to LUCENT SILVA GROUP.
They never change their positions and often fight for no goddamn reason.
And we had no other option than to watch the chaos unfold because they are golden hen to us and often in the name tipping, tries to show off their status , which only is good for us, so we have no other option even when the only thing we want is to kick their asses out of the café.
And the reason why we call them angels and demons , well it’s simple this way, who will keep on saying that an employee of LUCENT SILVA GROUP slapped an employee of VALEMONT CORPORATION and so on.
As usual in between all this chaos as usual I am here, preparing fresh Espresso and Iced Americano, yes Iced Americano in this chilling winter, these demons got no chills, literally and metaphorically.
It all started again like most disasters do, with a latte and some ego.
Yuck! This latte is clearly for the peasants, like the one sitting on the other side ,” Gabriel declared, clutching his overpriced trench coat like it held the meaning of life, and several unpaid credit card bills.
Across the room, Zara, who wore sunglasses indoors like the sun, personally offended her and heels that screamed ‘ankle injuries pending’ stirred her drink with a spoon the size of a toddler’s regret.
“Aw, Gabe,” she purred, a smirk curving her lips. “It’s adorable how you can only care about us all the time. What’s next? Offering your precious shares of your cracked wall, damped floor, VALMONT CORPORATION.
In the corner, Grim looked up from his crossword puzzle, sighed like a man who’s been trying to spell ‘existential dread’ for ten minutes, and decided he didn’t get paid enough for this.
Yes, I manage this circus disguised as a café. I did not graduate from Northcrest Elite Hospitality & Trauma Management School to referee a corporate roast session at 10:15 in the chilling winter night.
I slammed my rag on the counter like I was dropping mixtape fire and stormed over, coffee mug in hand, wearing the expression of someone legally caffeinated and emotionally bankrupt.
Oh! all the things I wanted to say, how badly I wanted to throw tons of taunts at both of them and their companies. But with greed in my mind, I took a long breath and gave Gabriel another cup of coffee with a forced smile.
“I am sorry Gabriel if the latte earlier was not up to your expectations. This one will for sure make it work.”
“ Call me Sir, I am not your friend. Don’t you have this little decency.”
Sir, he wants me to call him Sir. How dare he? My blood pressure is already high and this monkey faced person with his tongue sharper than scissors is not making my situation any less painful.
I took a step back, looked at him with the eyes that said- Be. In. Your. Damn. Limits. Before he could open his filthy mouth again
I went inside the bakery area, where the room smelled like cinnamon and chocolates. I slammed the door shut not giving a damn how this behaviour of mine can affect the business. Am I overreacting, or am I just going insane. The loud thud of the door shutting closed made the two of the bakers look in my direction.
“Is everything alright Jennifer?”
“No, It’s not Daisy, these people will make me end up in a mental asylum by the end of this month.”
Daisy and Reena chuckled, making me stare at them with eyes which should make me look scary but instead I was looking like a cartoon to them.
Outside at the main area, the both of them were still arguing and now along with their friends joined them. Grim finally closed the puzzle which he couldn’t solve.
“Alright, both of the parties. Again? Really?” Grim snapped. “Can we not have a WWE showdown before I finish my first sip of coffee tonight?”
Gabe stood up like he was about to deliver a TED Talk that no one asked for. “This place has no respect for their customers, even the service is average.”
Zara didn’t even blink or take a breath after hearing Gabe. Just leaned back, clicked her nails like a Bond villain on vacation, and said, “Says the guy who wept last week because his boss told him to work hard and not be sloppy.”
“This place is disgusting,” Gabe hissed, clutching his wallet like that’s what Zara is going to do now, stole his wallet which had no more than 25 bucks.
“You’re disgusting ,” Zara shot back, flipping her hair like it was her weapon of choice.
Hearing all the noises outside , I was sure that they had not stopped arguing so I had to take things into my own hands.
I opened the door and stood in between both the lines of chairs and table on each side of the room. They turned to my side clearly with not so interested faces.
“ If you guys didn’t stopped yapping in five seconds, I will kick you’ll out of the cafe and put a case of mental harassment and torture plus most of yours bill is due so would you mind keeping your tongue inside your mouth or else I swear to God I will go insane and throw a lava- level- boiling Espresso right into the face of the first person who dare say a word.”
No voice. Even Grim looked at her proud because these were the exact words he wanted to say for more than six months.
Both parties for the first time in the day were quiet.
“Good.”
Damn my life. Or hell-life. Or whatever limbo-chic nonsense this is. Just as peace returned to the café and my blood pressure dipped below “boiling kettle,” the front door swung open.
The door didn’t open like usual.
It almost bursted.
My face dropped faster than politicians avoiding taxes.
There he was.
Luc. Lucas Allen Silva. The C.E.O of LUCENT SILVA GROUP.
Tall, smug, annoyingly symmetrical. Dressed like he’d just rolled out of a fashion ad titled “How to Ruin a Woman’s Week in One Entrance.” His jacket was leather. His aura was “trouble.” His face? Still punchable.
He flashed me a grin like nothing had happened.
“Hey, Jen,” he said, strolling in like the café was his runway. “Missed me?”
“Like I miss food poisoning.”
“Oof.” He clutched his chest. “Still got that sharp tongue. I see managing this boring ass café till midnight in between ghosts hasn’t dulled your edge.”
“You’d know,” I said, crossing my arms. “Working late with the dead is better.They ghost me less.”
Grim snorted from his seat. Daisy giggled. Someone whispered, “She’s gonna kill him with words again.”
Luc stepped closer, that smirk still plastered on like it paid rent.
“Come on, Jen. No hard feelings. It’s been what, two years? Three? I lose track when I’m busy being amazing.”
I looked straight into his eyes,” It’s been five bloody years. But no need to track it. There’s nothing you can stick with for so long.”
In my defense,” he said, raising a finger, “I told the truth. My memory is getting weak.”
I rolled my eyes so hard that I almost could see a past life, if possible.
“Do you want coffee or just came here to ruin my day, recreationally?”
He shrugged. “Why not both?”
Zara, from across the room, held up her tab that said 10/10. Gabe made a gagging noise.
“Fine,” I snapped. “Sit down, shut up, and if you flirt with anyone again, I will charge you fine.”
Luc winked. “No promises, babe.”
Luc slid into his usual booth like he owned the place. He didn’t. I did. But he sat there anyway, legs stretched out, arms wide, like the embodiment of “emotional red flag but somehow still charming.”
I stormed behind the counter, grabbed the coffee pot like it was a weapon, and muttered to myself.
Why is he here? Why now? Did he run out of mirrors? Did he sense I was finally mentally stable and decide to ruin it for sport?
Grim leaned over and whispered, “You want me to reap him real quick?”
Tempting.
“I’m good,” I said. “But if he starts reciting his poetry again, I might scream or worse cry.”
Back at his table, Luc was already pulling out a tiny black notebook. No. Nope. Not again.
“Luc, I swear,” I called out, “if you read that ‘Ode to Your Own Reflection’ poem, I will unplug the espresso machine and scream.”
He grinned. “That was a classic.”
He put the notebook away, dramatically wounded. “You never supported my artistic side.”
“You wrote ‘roses are red, my eyes are hot, look at my face, I’m what you want.’” I pointed a finger. “That’s not art. That’s narcissism with rhymes.”
Zara clapped. “Daaaamn.”
Claire, the other from the demon group, but still better than Zara shouted, “Read the breakup poem! The angry one! That was spicy!”
Luc tilted his head. “Which one? The ‘My Ex is Ice Cream but I’m Lactose Intolerant’ one or the ‘Heartbreak and Espresso Shots’ one?”
I looked him dead in the eye.
He chuckled. “Still the same fire. Admit it, you missed me.”
“Oh, totally,” I said, leaning over the counter. “I missed the gaslighting, the dramatic exits, and that time you brought a friend to brunch and introduced as your ’roommate who’s also your therapist.”
Luc held up his hands. “He was a guy and my close friend.”
“I don’t trust you with that, you two were way too close to challenge my homosexual acceptance tendencies.”
“You think I AM GAY.”
“ Can be bisexual, who knows, and your so-called friend was just looting your money and you were just ok like a fool. He was charging you thousands of dollars and in return just giving you some special medicine, idiot.”
“Affordable mental healthcare is hard to find, Jen.”
I looked straight at Grim. “I’m going to throw a mug at him.” Grim nodded slowly. “I’ll allow it.”
But I didn’t throw the mug. I refilled coffee, walked to Luc’s booth, and set it down hard in front of him. “Here. It’s black. Like your heart. And your dating history.”
Luc lifted the cup with a grin. “You still remember how I like it.”
“Unfortunately, yes. Trauma has a strong memory.”
Luc took one sip of the coffee. Closed his eyes like it was a religious experience. Then set the cup down like he was about to deliver a speech no one wanted.
“Jennifer,” he said, with that fake-serious tone he used to use when pretending to apologize. “There’s something I must do. Something I’ve carried in my cold, sexy, semi-possessed heart for too long.”
“Oh no,” I whispered. “No. Nope. No no no—”
I was knowing what was about to happen and damn I was not freaking ready, how can I even be.
