Page 7 of Sassy & Sixty

"And to the Sassy Sixties Club!" Emma added with a wink.

CAFFEINE AND CAMARADERIE

Rosie stood in front of her wardrobe, hands on hips, surveying the colourful chaos before her. The once orderly rows of beige and navy had been disrupted by a riot of prints and bold hues. Since she’d met Emma and Lisa, she felt so much more confident about herself and loved playing with colours, styles and fabrics. She smiled, fingering the sleeve of a crimson blouse she'd unearthed from the depths of a drawer. Who knew she'd been hiding a secret fashionista all these years?

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen to see a message from Emma: "Don't you dare show up in anything sensible. We're painting the town red... well, pale pink at least. It is only 11am after all."

Rosie chuckled, reaching for the crimson blouse. "Challenge accepted, Emma," she murmured to herself.

Twenty minutes later, Rosie found herself outside The Bean Counter, a trendy coffee shop in the high street. The exterior was all sleek lines and minimalist decor, a far cry from Jools, the cozy bistro they’d been meeting at.

She peered through the window, spotting Emma at a table near the back. Lisa sat beside her, looking as polished as everin a tailored blazer. Two other women Rosie didn't recognise completed the group.

Taking a deep breath, Rosie pushed open the door, the scent of freshly ground coffee beans enveloping her. As she approached the table, Emma looked up and let out a wolf whistle.

"Well, well, well," Emma grinned, eyeing Rosie's outfit appreciatively. "Look who's embracing her inner fire engine."

Rosie felt her cheeks warm to match her blouse. "Is it too much?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Nonsense," Lisa interjected, standing to greet Rosie with a warm hug. "You look fabulous. That deep pink is definitely your colour."

"Hear, hear," one of the unfamiliar women chimed in. She was a petite blonde with a head of curly hair, tied at the nape of her neck. She had an artistic air about her, paint splatters visible on her hands. "I'm Julie, by the way. Emma's told us all about you."

"All good things, I hope," Rosie said, taking the empty seat between Julie and the other newcomer.

"Oh, the best," the last woman said with a wink. She was curvy and warm-looking, with a slightly harried air that reminded Rosie of Mary. "I'm Catherine.”

Catherine seemed a bit different from the other women. Shyer andnowhere near as elegantly dressed. She wore denim dungarees and kept fiddling with her fingernails.

“We are the 'Sensational Sixties Squad' now,” Emma said.

Rosie raised an eyebrow at Emma, who shrugged unapologetically. "What? We needed a catchy name. Now, who's for coffee?"

As they perused the menu, Rosie felt her eyes widening at the array of options. What on earth was a 'Unicorn Frappuccino'? And since when did coffee need to be 'deconstructed'?

"Right," Emma said, clapping her hands together. "Let's make this interesting. We each order for the person to our right, and it has to be the most ridiculous thing on the menu."

"Oh, I don't know," Catherine fretted, biting her lip. "I'm not very good with complicated orders. What if I get it wrong?"

"That's half the fun," Lisa assured her with a pat on the arm. "Besides, how hard can it be? It's just coffee."

As it turned out, it could be very hard indeed.

Julie went first, ordering for Catherine. "She'll have a... um... Venti half-caf soy vanilla latte with an extra shot, upside down, with caramel drizzle and whipped cream."

The barista, a young man with more piercings than Rosie had ever seen on one person, didn't bat an eye as he scribbled the order down.

Catherine, looking slightly panicked, ordered for Lisa. "A grande... no, venti... oh, dear. A big iced skinny hazelnut macchiato, sugar-free syrup, extra shot, light ice, no whip."

Lisa nodded approvingly. "Not bad, Catherine. You're a natural."

When it was Lisa's turn to order for Emma, she got a mischievous glint in her eye. "She'll have a trenta cold brew, five shots, with vanilla sweet cream foam, two pumps of mocha, one pump of white mocha, extra caramel drizzle, and cinnamon dolce topping."

Emma's eyes widened. "Good lord, woman. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Just keeping you on your toes, dear," Lisa replied sweetly.

Emma, recovering quickly, turned to order for Rosie. "Right, let's see... She'll have a venti soy no foam light-roast half-caf with a splash of sugar-free vanilla and a twist of lemon. Oh, and make it extra hot."

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