Page 3 of Beanful Wishes

A regular is looking for a long list of childhood friends. A shy guy who orders black coffee every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday wishes for the courage to ask his long-time crush on a date. A couple who meet here once a week?—

“Oh good, you’re here.” Matthew, the owner, walks in, the young woman from earlier in tow.

I’m not sure why he’s surprised. I’ve opened the coffee shop every morning since he hired me.

“And it smells like there’s coffee.” The woman steps to the counter. “Please tell me it’s ready. I’m in desperate need of a caffeine fix.”

I laugh and stroll over, pouring three cups and handing her one. “Here you go. This one’s on the house.”

Matthew raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.

“Thanks.” She takes her coffee and sips it, sighing happily before rushing out the door.

I get back to work, priming the espresso makers and setting out a fresh assortment of baked goods.

Matthew putters around the office and walks out with the cash drawer for the register a minute before six.

“Ready to open the door?” I ask, looking at him across the cup that holds the last sip of my coffee.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Matthew takes his position behind the counter, and I head over to flip the sign to open. The door is still unlocked, and I’m surprised none of the small group of people waiting outside has tried to enter.

I pull it open and wave them inside. “Welcome to Coffee Loft.”

We spend a good hour and a half working through the morning rush, struggling to keep up until Julie comes in, thirty minutes late because of a flat tire.

“That’s the third one this month,” Matthew grumbles while she ties her apron around her waist and takes her place next to me.

“I know. I wish I could afford a fresh set of tires.” She steams a small pitcher of milk. “I don’t think they’ll plug them again. I had to talk them into it this time.”

Matthew coughs and turns to face her. “I’ll see if I can get you a few more hours over the weekend if you’d like.”

“I’m happy to cut back for a couple of weeks.” I could use a bit of a break. I have yet to do much exploring around Wilmington and wouldn’t mind spending a day on the beach before the weather turns too cold to go for a dip in the Atlantic.

“Won’t be necessary,” Matthew grumbles. “Sales have picked up enough. I’m actually considering hiring someone else part time.”

“I’d love to go full time,” Julie says.

“What about your acting?” Matthew raises an eyebrow.

“Let’s just say it isn’t going as well as I’d hoped.” Julie shrugs. “I’m taking some classes, but for now, I’m considering myself a full-time barista. If you’re on board with that.”

“Can you start this week?” Matthew asks. When she nods, he heads to the small office in the back to rework the schedule.

“Sorry about the acting.” I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know Julie well, but it’s clear she’s passionate about it and from the few commercials she’s shown me on YouTube, she looks pretty good at it to me. But what do I know?

“It’ll turn around. I heard about this bar downtown where a lot of actors and producers hang out. Wanna go check it out with me tonight?” Julie asks.

I’m torn. I don’t like the idea of the young woman heading out on her own. She’s barely old enough to drink. At the same time, I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.

“One drink.” She flutters her eyelashes at me. “I’m buying.”

“One drink,” I agree.

“You’re the best.” She grins and pops a cake pop that fell off its stick into her mouth.

Matthew rejoins us when the crowd thins.

“I’ll go straighten the tables.” Julie grabs a cleaning rag and our eco-friendly disinfectant spray, then rushes to a set of tables that were recently vacated.

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