Page 1 of Love's Unexpected Surprise

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The freshly brewing coffee awakens my senses, but sadly, it's not for me. It just so happens to be for an incredibly rude, scowling patron at Peabody's Coffee Shop. I can feel this particular Karen's eyes staring at me while I pour the piping-hot drink into her cup. She comes in every morning and orders the same drink, caramel macchiato with five extra pumps of caramel, and she gets mad that we don't have it ready for her when she's here.

“I'm here at the same time every day. You would think I wouldn't have to wait after a certain point,” she says in lieu of thank you when I hand it to her.

If I had my own shop, I could ban people like her from ever entering. It would be a haven from assholes.

I toss a glance over my shoulder at Jenny, who snickers at the exchange. It's just one of those things we've learned to deal with, and today, I drew the unlucky straw of operating the register. The line of customers is far too long for the two of us to have any semblance of a break for a few hours. Thankfully, the other customers are much more patient than our resident Karen. Notonly do they thank us but they also put money in the tip jar when they leave.

Jenny and I fall into a rhythm. It's one of my favorite parts of working at the café. I know it sounds silly to be excited about being a barista, but there's something about it that I love. It's a simple job, and the repetition of the work makes sense to me. Plus, I've always enjoyed being around people. Even though I like making drinks, we both know Jenny’s apathetic attitude doesn’t earn as well in the tip department.

“Try this.” Jenny shoves an iced drink in my hands within the first five minutes of our late morning lull. I look at the drink suspiciously, wondering if this is another one of her many questionable concoctions. Whatever it is inside, I notice some kind of passion fruit-infused foam resting on the top, and I'm skeptical of how well that will blend with coffee. “Don't worry, this is matcha. Trust me on this one.”

I nod my head and steel myself for the worst. It could be the most vile thing I ever put in my mouth, but Jenny is not only my coworker, she's also my best friend, so I would hate to offend her. I'm slowly bringing the straw to my lips, practicing my lie about how yummy it is in my head when the front door opens once again, and I'm forced to set the drink down.

What a pity.

“Welcome to Peadbody’s! What can I get you today?” I ask out of habit, forcing the smile to stay on my face as I take in the man approaching the counter.

The tips of my ears heat, and I blush just looking at the man. My body reacts to him approaching the counter in a way that it probably shouldn't at something so simple. He's tall, with broad shoulders covered by a suit tailored perfectly to his limbs. The muscles on his arms strain against the fabric, and I almost wish I could trace my fingers along the ridges. His dark blue eyes lockon my face as a hint of a smile grows on his lips, making my heart race.

“Hello, how are you?” he asks with a thick accent I can’t place. His eyes flitter between me and the large chalkboard menu hanging above me. I take a moment to study his face as he runs his fingers through his dark caramel-blond hair.

“I'm doing great here today!” I reply, forcing my customer service voice to keep from cracking under the pressure of standing in front of the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. He looks like he just stepped off an Abercrombie billboard and walked into the café.

Oh God... and I’m probably covered in coffee splashes and sticky syrups.

“Can I have a coffee for here? Black please,” he says.

“That’ll be $3.79. And can I ask your name?”

He hands me a twenty, and I start typing what I need to in the register to print the label. “Alexei. And you can keep the change.”

Before I can say anything to refuse the massive tip, he walks toward the pickup end of the counter, and I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. Jenny always teases me about my inability to talk to men. I don't know what it is, but I always clam up and get nervous talking to someone I think is attractive. That's probably why I'm twenty years old and have only ever dreamed of kissing a guy.

Jenny hands Alexei his order, and he takes a seat at a table in the corner of the café before pulling out his computer and doing work on it. When everything is taken care of, I turn my attention back to Jenny's concoction and take a sip. By the reaction on my face, she can tell that I'm surprised. It's better than I thought it would be.

“See, I'm not a complete and total fuckup.” Both of us laugh and lean back on the counter while we wait for the next customer so we can get back to work.

“My sister's throwing another one of her Valentine's parties this year,” I say, sipping on my matcha and rolling my eyes. “I don't understand why she makes such a big deal out of it. Valentine's Day is stupid. It's just a made-up holiday to make people in relationships spend money and make single people feel like crap.”

“Your mom is making you go again this year, isn't she?” Jenny laughs. “Who was it that she tried to set you up with last year?”

“Oliver from her marketing department. I feel like she's trying to auction me off like this is the 1600s. This year, she's been laying it on thick about this guy Greg from her accounting department. She even ambushed me with him at lunch yesterday.” I shiver against the memory of sitting across from Greg as he ogled me for an entire hour before I came up with an excuse to leave. “It was so obvious she was trying to set us up, and I think she told Greg that I like him.”

“Sheila really needs to chill.” Jenny turns around to prep some decaf coffee for the afternoon.

“You're telling me. I don't know what I'll do about the Valentine's party on Friday either. If I don't find a date, my mom will offer Greg my hand in marriage.” I sigh, running my fingers through my hair.

“The way she acts, you’d think they’re offering her dowries for dates with you,” Jenny points out as she clicks a carafe in its place.

Jenny says something else that I tune out while Alexei stands and approaches the counter. I don't think anything of it at first, but my heart does start beating a little faster. His eyes are on me again, and my cheeks start to heat.

“I don't mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help over here your conversation,” he says, catching Jenny’s attention now too. “Ifyou need a date to this party, I’d be more than happy to take you.”

My entire body is on fire. I'm practically preparing to get on the ground; stop, drop, and roll.Is he asking me out because he pities me, or is he actually interested in being my valentine?Even the thought of calling him my valentine feels foreign.

“Oh, I appreciate that offer, but I couldn't. No, thank you,” I say, quickly brushing it off. I'm not even sure he was serious about the offer anyway. I mean, he must be some kind of businessman, maybe even a well-to-do lawyer, and I'm just a barista. He probably has countless other options for ways to spend his Valentine's Day.

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