Page 15 of Beanful Wishes

Sophia looks up, a huge smile spreading across her face that makes my knees weak. “My hero,” she says, reaching for the cup. Our fingers brush as I hand it to her, and I feel a spark of electricity that has nothing to do with the dry air or the carpet below our feet.

“So, what’s this all about?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Future Wishing Wall projects,” she says, excitement evident in her voice. “But first, catch me up. Any new wishes?”

I nod, pulling out my phone. “A few. There’s one from a high school student looking for help with college tuition and another from a couple wanting to renew their vows.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask. How do you keep track of who’s wishing for what?” Sophia asks, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “There are no names on those index cards.”

I chuckle. “It’s an elaborate system that involves everyone working at the coffee shop.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Explain.”

“I roped my fellow baristas into paying attention to who puts up a card. We make a note of their name and take it from there. So far, most of the wishes have come from regulars.”

“How do you get their names?” she asks.

“It’s on their credit cards.”

“What if someone pays with cash?” Sophia looks up at me, her gaze intent and her mind whirling.

“It’s rarely an issue and no matter what, we need at least their first name so we can call out the order.” What I don’t tell her is that most of us are good at small talk and get a surprising amount of information out of even the briefest of interactions. Provided we aren’t as slammed as we were this morning.

Sophia’s eyes light up. “Clever. Do you have names for these new wishes? Or whatever you want to work on next.”

“I do.” They are on my phone in a file backed up to the cloud, so I don’t risk losing it.

“Wanna share with the class?” Sophia asks, motioning to a large table with more than a dozen chairs set up around it.

From the look of it, she’s occupied one of them. Her laptop, several notebooks and various papers are scattered across it.

I follow her and take the seat across from hers. “Why don’t you tell me why you asked me here?”

Sophia looks around, then shakes her head. “I’m waiting for someone to join us. Looks like they are running late. Let’s start with the next wish.”

I scroll through my phone and show her what I have so far. It isn’t much.

“Mind if I do a little digging?” she asks, fingers hovering over her keyboard.

For the half an hour we huddle together, Sophia working her social media magic to find out more about each wish maker. It’s more than I’ve ever been able to learn about them in the past.

I notice her eyes flicking to me every few seconds, and I wonder if she’s feeling the same pull I am. Taking a sip of my coffee, I tell myself I’m imagining things and get back to work. I’m furiously taking notes when something catches my attention.

“Wow,” I mutter, scrolling through her feed. “Your posts are really taking off. The engagement is through the roof.”

She glances up at me, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “Yeah, it’s been pretty crazy. I posted an update this morning, and it already has thousands of likes.”

“You know,” I say, leaning in slightly. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you. Your coverage has taken the idea of the Wishing Wall to a whole different level.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Sophia glances down at her phone and mutters something under her breath. “Looks like the deputy city manager won’t be able to join us after all.”

“Why would he? Or she?” I ask. I have no idea who this person is.

Sophia smiles and wrinkles her nose in the most adorable way. “Well, I’ve enjoyed being a part of this. It’s not often you get to work on something that makes such a difference.”

“Yes?” I have no idea what any of this has to do with the city or the community center.

As she reaches for her coffee, her elbow catches the edge of her notebook, sending the cup flying. Coffee splashes across the table, soaking her notes and the front of her shirt.

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