Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Cassie

The murmur and hum of Hummingbird on Christmas Eve was magical, but I wasn’t feeling it. Silver Bells played softly through the speakers, and as the sun sank low on the horizon and I prepared the café for closing, groups of people squeezed in for their last-minute coffee orders. The smell of peppermint and chocolate was sweet on the air, and the smiles and laughter of all the people in colorful coats and scarves should have been infectious.

But I was brooding about a girl.

“Here you go, Amber,” I said, setting down a peppermint mocha for the girl with the lip piercing, here with her mom. “Happy holidays!”

Amber grinned. “Thanks so much,” she said, taking the drink, and it was only once her back was turned and the line was gone that I let myself have one private sigh.

I’d been rooming with Parker for a day and a half and I’d screwed up. Was it too late for her to take me off the lease? She would if she could. I couldn’t believe she actually didn’t know. Who added someone to their lease without looking them up first?

“Good work today, Cassie,” Josiah said, my supervisor, a guy with broad football-player shoulders and olive skin, pulling the last of the pastries from the display case and sliding it shut. “These croissants and this tin of peppermint bark won’t last the days we’re closed. Want to take them home for you and that new roommate of yours?”

If that new roommate of mine wasn’t going to murder me when I got back. I gave him a thin smile. “That sounds like genuinely the best thing ever,” I said. “Not taking anything home yourself?”

He snorted. “I’m driving three hours out to my parents’ tonight, and they’re going to feed me about fifteen million Christmas cookies. If I took even more food home, they’d get mad at me. Please. Take it all.”

I laughed, but it was only halfway there. “Well, I’ll be happy to save you from the curse of too much good stuff to eat. Thanks, Josiah.”

He nodded to the back. “I’ll wrap them up and leave them by your stuff. Wipe down the pastry case for me?”

“You got it.” I grabbed a rag from by the sink and set about the pastry case, brushing the crumbs out, as Josiah headed into the back.

Cleaning always felt good—it was relaxing actually being able to see progress on what I was doing, so I got so into it I didn’t even notice someone had come in until I heard boots squeaking on the floor.

“Hey, welcome to… oh,” I said, my face falling as I looked up and met Gary’s eyes. He leered over the counter at me, a smile tugging at one corner of his lips, and it made my stomach roil. “Hello, Gary.”

“What’s the cold welcome for?” he said, folding his arms on the pastry case and leaning in. “I think it’s really nice to see you again, Cassie.”

I didn’t have the energy to fight right now. I didn’t even have the energy to fake a smile. “What can I get you?” I said, moving over to the register, and he waved me off.

“Oh, let’s just do a latte. You know, I’ve been looking through your new stuff lately. I think your brand’s at a real all-time high, but I feel like maybe you’re missing something.”

Medium latte. Extra hot. I focused on punching in the details of the drink I knew Gary liked, and hated that I did. If I thought about anything else, I might have cried.

You just need to take the next step forward.

The maxims could only help me so much right now.

“I think maybe you’ve just hit a little rut. You know? It’s good, but I’ve seen a lot of the same content repeated, and repeated…”

Somehow, I managed to will up enough of myself to say, “I’m not looking for advice on running my page.”

He frowned. “I always thought you were good at taking constructive criticism, Cassie.”

“Five ninety-five.”

He tapped his card against the reader. “I think now’s actually your best time. I think you’re in the perfect position to bring out a new innovation.”

I sighed inwardly. He never, ever listened to anyone but himself. “Do you want the receipt?”

“No, thank you. Look—I’m talking a lot of money here, Cassie. I think this could be good. See, I’ve actually been doing some brand-building myself, and I’ve gotten a pretty decent following going. My company, Morning Magic, works with cafés like this one all the time.”

So he’d said last time. “The café’s just a fun thing for me,” I said, not even hearing myself as I started on his latte. The hiss of the milk steaming sounded like the territorial snake I wished I could be against him, but all I had was the low hum of the espresso pulling next to it. “And my followers like the pictures and the stories from it. They like that I’m on the ground and all. I’m not really a career barista or anything.”

“We actually have a few partnerships on Crystal Road already,” he said, completely ignoring everything I’d said. “Hummingbird would be a great addition. We’d be able to switch out this funny old machine here,” he said, gesturing to the espresso machine, “with something sleek, state of the art, and a style that’s all the rage right now.”

Somewhere in me, a circuit closed, and electricity flowed. The lights came back on, and slowly, I found myself looking up over the top of the espresso machine at him. “Wait. Hold on. You sell… espresso machines?”

He puffed out his chest, seeming to hear me for the first time since he stepped inside. “Morning Magic has special partnerships with sixteen different shops and growing, curating and maintaining coffee equipment for a shop that wants to go above and beyond.”

I felt like I’d been smacked across the face. Espresso machines. He was Parker’s competition? I stared for the longest time before I looked back down at his cup, shutting off the steam wand and wiping it down when I pulled the milk away. I focused on the pour, the weight of the cup increasing in my hand as I poured a thin stream of microfoam from up high and then dropping it down to create the elegant push-pull of the tulip shape.

“We’re actually pretty fond of this machine,” I said, setting the latte down on the handoff plane. “It’s a custom design made collaboratively with our current supplier and curator, Express Coffee Logistics.”

Just like that, his smile shattered like thin glass. His whole energy changed, a cold aura around him now. “You all are with Parker Ferris?”

And she’s so much better than you are. I found myself standing up straighter. Maybe I couldn’t stand up to him for my own sake, but I sure as hell could for Parker’s. “The one and only,” I said. “She’s in here all the time to check with the machine.”

He stared for the longest time before he gave me what I’d always thought of as his used-car-salesman smile. “Now, look, Parker’s good at what she does, but she’s so unprofessional in how she conducts her business. And besides, Express is in the past. They just want to sell machines and call it a day. At Morning Magic, we’re starting a revolution, and you know who we have to thank for it?”

I arched an eyebrow. “You, I guess?”

He pointed a thick finger at me. “You, Cassie. I’ve been so inspired by your morning-miracle routines, I’ve started building everything around it. Every morning is a little bit of magic. You used to always say that.”

Oh, gross. He was blaming it on me? I wrinkled my nose. “Oh… well, I guess I did say that.”

“And you’re right. It’s more than just a little bit of magic. It’s a whole industry revolution. We’re bringing star power to this whole hipster coffee scene. We’ve got a dozen different Port Andrea stars just like you signing up as brand sponsors for Morning Magic, and we’re spreading the message. Every morning is a little bit of magic. Our partner shops are having business skyrocket—it’s amazing the things a little brand endorsement will do. Just the other day, we had our latest sponsor, Julia Danvers, do a whole event at Elderberry Coffee Bar over on Curie Avenue, and they’ve never had a busier day.”

“Julia Danvers? The mindful-eating girl?”

He grinned. “I thought you’d know her. It was her recommendation to come talk to you here, see if you’d join.”

Ugh. Julia and I had been in tangentially related orbits, and we’d never exactly been close, but I still felt like she’d sold me out. “So, if I’m understanding right, you’ve just started doing celebrity endorsements for… coffee shops.”

He laughed, leaning against the counter. “You’d be surprised how well it’s been working, Cassie. Port Andrea is a special place. There’s no other city like it. The people here have a special connection with their food and drink like nowhere else in the world. There aren’t a lot of places where people can get excited about espresso machines, but Port Andrea’s unique blend of celebrity culture and good food… it’s the perfect fertile ground for our Morning Magic revolution. I can’t wait to have you with us, Cassie. With our brands combined, the whole scene had better watch out, because I think you’ll be our top sponsor.”

My heart thumped wildly, but it wasn’t from his offer. I’d barely ever found a way to say no before. Yes was my operative word. But I opened my mouth, took a long breath, and I said, “That’s really sweet of you, but I’m going to pass.”

He looked like I’d just dashed cold water on him. His eyes went wide, lips parted, the look almost comical if I weren’t terrified, and a second later, he shook his head. “What do you mean, you’re going to pass? Cassie, you’d be throwing away your biggest chance yet. You’re in the perfect position. This will revitalize your brand and do you so much good.”

I swallowed. “I mean, no.”

And just like that, the knives came out. He narrowed his eyes, that same venomous look on his features as when I’d told him I was leaving, way back when. “Don’t do this, Cassie. I know you’re upset about the way things have gone before, but I mean it. This is going to be good. You’re going to be a great—”

“I said no, Gary,” I said, and I barely got the words out above a whisper, but it felt like the loudest thing I’d ever said. He stopped short, cold, the air between us feeling clammy as being drenched and out in the wind.

“Cassie, Cassie, Cassie,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Look. You’re sweet, but sometimes you really need some help making the decision that’s right for you. We—”

“No,” I said, because that was the only word I could manage right now. I hadn’t expected myself to be able to use it, so I was clinging to it like a shield against an assault, covering as much of myself with it as possible. “I’m… I’m with Parker. Sorry.”

He waved me off. “I’m not talking about the café, Cassie. You can do so much more than—”

“Not the café. I’m with Parker.” I paused. “I’m sorry.”

Why was I apologizing? I didn’t owe him a single apology. Not now, not ever. But I felt so small and scared, like a little mouse in front of his boot.

He stared for a while longer before he said, “What do you mean, you’re with Parker?”

I wasn’t about to say we were roommates. That would really be putting Parker in the line of fire. Although, from the sounds of things, she was there already. “I mean… I’m on Parker’s side. Express Coffee Logistics. And I think, if you’re going to start a war with her, then…”

He squeezed his coffee cup on the counter. “Then you’re telling me you’re taking her side. What does she have to offer you?”

I didn’t know what possessed me to say it, but something did. “Because she’s going to come out on top.”

He laughed, but a second later, his face fell, shaking his head. “You’re serious, aren’t you? Don’t make me angry, Cassie.”

I chewed my lip. “Have a nice day, Gary.”

“I’m offering you the whole world on a platter.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Merry Christmas, Gary.”

“You’ll come around.” He slammed a lid down on his coffee, spinning on his heel and marching back towards the door. “You’ll see reason eventually!” he called, nearly knocking a woman down on his way out, through the door. A gust of snowy wind blew into the building as the door swung shut behind him, throwing my hair into my face, and I stood there breathing in as much of that icy chill as I could.

It felt right for the moment.