Page 46 of Rescuing Sophia

This routine repeats itself, with slight variations, each day. By the end of the week, Sophia’s nervous energy is tangible. That morning, she’s practically vibrating as we walk, her fingers drumming an erratic rhythm against my palm.

“Hey.” I tug her to a stop. We’re a block away from the café, the morning crowd parting around us like a stream around a boulder. “You okay?”

Sophia takes a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with the motion. “Just nervous. What if I mess up? What if I can’t handle the pressure?”

I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs stroking her cheekbones. Her skin is cool from the morning air, but the warmth of her blush rises beneath my touch.

“You’ve got this.” My voice is firm, filled with conviction. “You’ve been working hard all week. Jenna and Malia believe in you, and so do I.”

She leans into my touch, her eyes closing briefly. When she opens them, there’s a new resolve in their depths.

“You’re right. I can do this.”

“Damn straight.” I lean in to press a kiss on her forehead. “Now go show that espresso machine who’s boss.”

Her bright and clear laughter follows me as I head to work.

Saturday dawns clear and crisp, the autumn day that begs for warm drinks and cozy conversations. Perfect weather for a coffee café opening. The team and I agreed to meet at the café at 10 AM, an hour after the official opening. We want to give them time to work out any initial kinks before descending en masse.

As we approach, the first thing that strikes me is the transformation of the exterior. Gone is the chaotic construction site of the past week. In its place stands a welcoming storefront, all warm wood and gleaming glass. A hand-painted sign proclaims “The Guardian Grind” in elegant script, with “Grand Opening Today!” written on a chalkboard easel below.

The scent of fresh coffee and baked goods wafts out each time the door opens, mingling with the crisp autumn air. The sidewalk is bustling with people, some leaving with steaming cups, others queuing to enter.

“Looks like Jenna and Malia have a hit on their hands,” Gabe comments as we join the line.

I nod, a mixture of pride and nervousness churning in my gut. “Let’s hope so.”

The line moves quickly, and soon, we step into a warm cocoon of aromatic bliss. The café’s interior is even more impressive than the outside.

Exposed brick walls are softened by local artwork and lush plants. Edison bulbs hang from the ceiling in artistic clusters, casting a warm glow over the space. The countertops are polished wood, their rich grain complementing the industrial-chic aesthetic of the metal and leather chairs.

But it’s not just the visual aspects that captivate. The café is a melody of sensory experiences. The hiss and gurgle of the espresso machine provide a bass line to the melody of quiet conversations and the occasional burst of laughter.

Fingers tap against ceramic mugs, spoons clink against saucers,and the rustle of pages turning from those lost in books or newspapers add texture to the auditory landscape.

The air is thick with the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans, underscored by the sweet scent of baked goods. As we approach the counter, I catch whiffs of cinnamon, chocolate, and something citrusy.

And there, in the midst of it all, is Sophia. She wears a forest green apron over a white button-down shirt and her hair pulled back in a neat bun. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat and activity, but her movements are sure as she crafts drink after drink.

Our eyes meet across the crowded space, and her face lights up with a smile that steals my breath. She says something to Malia, who nods and takes over her station.

“Hey, stranger,” Sophia greets us as she approaches the register. A smudge of flour dusts her cheek that I ache to brush away. “What can I get for you guys?”

The team places their orders—a variety of coffees and pastries that will let us sample a good portion of the menu. When it’s my turn, I lean in, pitching my voice low. “Surprise me.”

“You got it, boss.” Sophia’s eyes sparkle with the challenge.

As she rings us up, I marvel at the change in her. The nervous energy of yesterday is gone, replaced by quiet confidence. She moves with purpose, her interactions with customers warm and professional.

We find a table large enough to accommodate the team, positioned perfectly for me to watch Sophia as she works. The chairs are surprisingly comfortable, and the leather is supple against my back.

“What do we think?” Ethan leans back in his chair. “Did Jenna and Malia pull it off?”

“I’ll reserve judgment until I taste the coffee.” Rigel glances around, taking in the exposed brick and steel beams. “But I have to admit, the place looks great.”

Walt drums his fingers against the polished wood of the table, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “It’s got a good vibe. Cozy, but not cramped.”

We continue to chat, our conversation a mix of work talk andcasual observations about the café. My attention is divided, half engaged with the team and half watching Sophia as she navigates the busy morning rush.

---