Page 62 of The Lone Wolf Café
He gave me a dirty look, and I pointed to the door. “Hey, wasn’t me. Besides, I need your help, buddy.”
Mavro cocked his little fiery head.
Two cups of coffee in a day, on top of all the pumpkin spice tea I’d drank earlier, was really pushing my caffeine limit. But werewolves had a fast metabolism, so I gleefully filled the percolator as the rich, nutty scent of coffee grounds permeated the air.
But that didn’t stop Mavro from giving me a dirty look as I placed the percolator on the hot plate.
“What?” I scoffed at the little weasel. “Are you going to blackmail me for charcoal again?”
Mavro nodded eagerly, and I couldn’t help but giggle at his brashness.
“Fine, you little rugrat.” I grabbed a piece of the chalky black substance and tossed it at the hot plate. Mavro caught it with a single paw, clutching it like a tiny dragon with a gold coin.
“You get your second one after you boil the coffee. And don’t burn it, please.”
There was still no one in the café. We hadn’t had a single customer in almost thirty minutes, which was common near the end of the day. It was just past two o’clock, so I didn’t have much time until I needed to start cleaning up. Aria was still a wonderful help getting all the dust out of the café, but I’d already gone through an entire bag of peanuts this week alone.
According to Rowena, elementals didn’t actually need to eat. But they still enjoyed food, as it enhanced their powers and gave them more energy.
And by the gods, they ate alot. I made a mental note to pick up another bag of peanuts from the general store next time I had a day off.
Once my coffee was finished, I settled into my usual chair with a steaming mug full of the light brown liquid, savoring my first piping hot sip. The cream and sugar balanced the bitterness of the coffee well, and I couldn’t help but sigh with contentment as I lowered the mug into my lap.
Then I heard a bell ring.
Specifically, the bell at the top of the doorframe.
I bolted out of my seat, nearly spilling my coffee in the process. I clumsily placed the mug on the end table, smoothing the skirt of my dress and scurrying behind the counter to greet the new customer.
It was Juniper. She looked beautiful today, in a long-sleeve, coral-colored dress with a plunging V-shaped neckline. A flat, oval tiger’s eye on a thin chain sat at the top of her cleavage, and a colorful woven belt was wrapped loosely around her waist. As usual, a pointed hat was perched on her head, but this one was a light grey color.
Juniper smiled as soon as she saw me. I noticed she looked far more relaxed than usual. Almost relieved.
Then I realized it was because Rowena wasn’t there.
“Hi, Juniper!” I greeted, my voice nearly cracking from anxiety. I inhaled, forcing air deep into my lungs so that my heart would stop hammering. “How can I help you today?”
Juniper suddenly looked uncomfortable again. Her eyes darted from the loose-leaf tea jars, over to the pastry case, then back to me. I could tell she wanted tea. But I’d have to call Rowena back into the café to do so.
“Um, just…” She examined the pastry case. Since it was mid-afternoon, the case was almost empty. All that remained were a few cookies and some flaky, rectangular-shaped pastries that oozed a rich, gooey filling.
“What are those?” Juniper pointed to the flaky rectangular pies.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, excited to show off my newest creations. “Those are apple pie turnovers. Basically, a little handheld slice of apple pie. I modified my grandmother’s recipe for blueberry turnovers, and everyone has been really enjoying them.”
“That sounds delicious.” Juniper smiled, and the knot in my stomach loosened a fraction of an inch. “I’ll take one, please.”
“Of course. Let me get that wrapped up for you.”
I grabbed some parchment paper from beneath the counter, busying myself with preparing Juniper’s pastry and subtly avoiding eye contact.
On the surface, I liked Juniper. She’d been sweet and kind to me, but her nervousness – and sometimes outright disdain – around Rowena always made my own anxiety flare up. It was an ugly, twisted reminder that the witch I was falling for was an outcast. And I didn’t even know why.
“Hey Nettie?”
My head shot up, and I nearly bumped it on the glass at the top of the display case.
“Yes?” I could feel the blood pounding in my ears.
