Page 32 of Light My Fire Three Times
Ivy pushes open the rusted truck door with a dramatic flourish, making it creak like a grand stage curtain rising.
“Welcome toyourfuture,” she says, full of exaggerated grandeur.
I step inside, feeling like I’m stepping into another dimension. The space is small and cramped, but in a cozy way that makes you feel like you could create something special here.
The inside is a little grungy, but there’s character. Old coffee makers and a sink that’s seen better days. A fridge tucked in the corner, with half a dozen empty, dusty shelves that could be filled with all the best pastries, syrups, and milk options. The counter, chipped but sturdy, just waiting for a good cleaning and some extra love.
I run my fingers along the counter, imagining the flow of busy mornings. The hum of the espresso machine. The sound of orders and laughter. The steady, rhythmic tapping of a frothing wand.
I’m starting to get it. Really get it. This truck could be mine.
“This place has so much potential,” I mutter to myself, my fingers tracing the edges of the counter like it’s a treasure map.
Ivy catches the tone in my voice and raises an eyebrow. “Wait, are you actually considering this?”
I pause. Is this crazy? Yes. But then again, so was quitting my job without a plan. And look how that’s been going. My chest tightens with a mix of fear and excitement, and I can’t help but smile.
“I mean,” I say, kind of hopefully. “Look at this. It’s… It’s got character.” I glance around the truck again, the wheels in my head already turning. “We could fix it up, make it cute, Instagram worthy. We could have, like, a signature drink… something that makes people line up just for a taste.”
Ivy grins, clearly reading the shift in my energy. “See? I knew you had it in you. It’s the perfect opportunity. You don’t need to wait for the perfect job. Create it yourself.”
I stand there for a moment, feeling the idea settle in my chest. The potential feels huge, terrifying, but also… exhilarating.
I step behind the counter, feeling a little giddy. I slide open the drawer and pull out a notepad that looks like it’s been there for years, its edges curled with age.
Scribbling on the first available page, I jot down “Espresso Love” in uneven handwriting. Then I draw a quick sketch of the chalkboard sign, imagining it surrounded by twinkling lights, an inviting little beacon for sleepy-eyed locals craving their first cup of the day.
I start listing things we’d need: new coffee beans, fancy syrups, pastry suppliers, and, of course, a killer playlist to set the vibe.
I look up at Ivy, a little breathless. “I could do this. This… this could actually work.”
Her face lights up, and she wraps me in a quick hug, nearly knocking me into the espresso machine. “I knew you’d see it! I knew it!”
I laugh, slightly overwhelmed by the flood of possibilities. “I’m starting to believe it, too. This could be fun.”
“Fun?” Ivy raises an eyebrow with a teasing smirk. “Honey, this is gonna be a wild ride. You’re gonna be so busy, you won’t have time to think about anything else. No more being chained to a desk. Just you, coffee, and Coyote Glen.”
My chest constricts. I have been throwing caution to the wind, acting like I’m not going to be here for long, so now…
Well, now I need to focus onthis, right?
I glance out the window, seeing the small crowd of people walking by. A group of teenagers heads to the mechanic’s shop.A couple of regulars stroll by, their faces already familiar from my few days here.
“Maybe I could do this,” I say more to myself than to Ivy, growing in conviction. “Maybe thisisthe thing I’ve been waiting for.”
Ivy nods, her grin widening. “That’s the spirit, Liv. Let’s get to work.”
And just like that, I’m already imagining the lines of people gathering outside my little coffee truck, waiting for their morning cup of magic.
It’s a long road ahead, but for the first time in days, I feel like I’m headed in the right direction.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Karl
NOVEMBER 18TH
The mid-November airis gettingchilly—especially this early in the morning.
