Page 18 of Steeped In Problems

Kristy stuck out a hand. “I’m Kristy Howard. I’m one of the baristas here.”

Emily shook the other woman’s hand, then turned right back to Tanner. “Where’s your morning shift? Just you two?”

“Rhonda’s late. Her car hates the cold,” Kristy offered.

Emily nodded and pulled a tablet from her messenger bag. She propped it on the counter and tapped the screen like she was swiping away a personal enemy. “Let’s start with a walk-through,” she said.

“Do you want a drink?” Kristy tried, gesturing at the machine. “We have a new dark roast?—”

“I’ll take a medium latte. Extra shot. No sugar,” Emily answered, eyes still on the tablet. “And I want to see how you handle a high-maintenance order.”

Kristy shot a glance at Tanner, then went to work. Her hands were steady, but Tanner could tell she was overthinking every motion.

Emily did not wait to be shown around. She strode behind the counter, barely pausing for Kristy to move out of her path, and started opening cabinets, sniffing the milk, tapping at the register. “You do your own maintenance on the equipment?” she inquired.

Tanner nodded. “Mostly, unless it’s a full breakdown.”

She made a note and then checked the under-sink storage. “You have a lot of cleaning products down here. Does OSHA know you’re stockpiling the world’s chlorine supply?”

Tanner bristled just a little. “We keep it clean.”

Emily grinned, apparently satisfied. “So I see. No rats or bugs. Good start.” She turned to Kristy, who was finishing up the latte. “You always steam the milk first, or do you multitask?”

Kristy blinked. “It depends on the drink?—”

“Efficiency is money. Multitasking is best,” Emily told her, already glancing back at her notes.

She walked to the customer area and flicked a finger over every table, checking for stickiness, then went to the restrooms and spent an uncomfortably long time in each. She returned and ordered a scone, but only to test how quickly Kristy could cut and plate it.

Tanner followed her from a distance, feeling more and more like he was being cross-examined. When the first customer—a firefighter in a navy blue jacket—walked in, Emily intercepted him at the door.

“Welcome to Brave Badge,” she chirped, holding out her hand. “Can you tell me what you like most about this shop?”

The firefighter looked at her as if she were asking for a kidney but shrugged. “The coffee’s hot. Staff’s not stuck-up. Place has better donuts than the station.”

“Good,” she nodded, writing it down. She left him at the counter and returned to the bar, where Kristy handed over the latte with a trembling flourish.

Emily sipped it, then nodded at Kristy. “You tamp too hard. Makes the espresso a little bitter. Otherwise, perfect.”

Kristy blushed, but the compliment was real. “Thanks.”

Tanner couldn’t decide if he wanted to hurl Emily out the window or ask her to take over for a week and fix everything that bugged him. She worked like a detective with a time bomb strapped to her chest—never pausing, never softening her voice.

Emily checked the break room, the supply closet, and his office. At 6:47, Rhonda arrived. She took one look at Emily and muttered, “Oh, geez. Corporate,” under her breath, then slunk to the back room.

“Who handles daily reports?” Emily asked, tapping at her screen.

“I do,” Tanner told her.

She handed him the tablet, already loaded with a spreadsheet. “Yesterday’s close-out doesn’t match your POS numbers. Can you explain?”

Tanner scanned the totals. She was right. There was a forty-dollar gap, maybe a till error, maybe a comped drink, or an unlogged cash sale. He started to answer, but Emily was already on to the next thing.

“And your inventory is off. You’re down two bags of beans since Monday. Do you sample that much, or is it going out the back?”

He clenched his jaw. “I’ll check it.”

Emily smiled like a cat who’d found a mouse in a cookie jar. “Please do.”

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