Page 20 of Billionaire and the Barista

She nodded at me to go. I took that as confirmation to sit down and she would join me in a minute.

I stepped into the seating area and watched as the next person in line stepped up to the counter. There was a rhythm to the movements between the customer and Gabriella and the man she worked with. Everyone moved with the repeated precision of knowing their part. The movement was more fluid than the moving parts of a machine. It was more like a choreography of step up, look at the display counter, point. Then Gabriella would duck and turn and have whatever they had ordered placed into a box and hand the order to the man at the counter. He would turn and then there was a back and forth as the transaction was finalized. The dance repeated over and over. There seemed to be a never-ending arrival of new dance partners.

At some point, Gabriella left the counter. I anticipated her joining me at my table at any moment. The dance continued with halting jerky motions without her. She was needed for everything to move smoothly. When she reappeared from the kitchen it was with a tray of what looked like cupcakes.

There seemed to be no end to the stream of patrons. I wouldn’t have thought a business at a location like this would have commanded such a robust following.

I caught Gabriella’s eye and motioned that I wanted her to come over. She shook her head and made some expression. I interpreted her body language to mean she was as annoyed with the constant work she had to do as I was.

Eventually, the steady flow turned into a trickle, and then the café was blissfully quiet. Gabby approached my table carrying a plated cupcake.

“This place has picked up business, hasn’t it? Is it always like”— I had been prepared to say ‘that’ but even more people came through the door and lined up at the counter— “this?”

“You came during our afternoon rush. Here.” She handed me the cupcake and a cup of coffee. “On the house. I’m sorry I have to get back.”

“Stay, talk to me,” I demanded.

“You came at a bad time. I don’t have time.”

“They always worked you too hard, I see that hasn’t changed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked with a break in her voice.

“The owners, they expect too much from you. I hope they are at least paying you better for your loyalty.”

She stopped and stared at me; her jaw slightly open. Her hand curled up toward her chest, and she poked herself with her pointer finger.

“I’m the owner. This is mine.”

“You bought this dive?” I had underestimated her skill set.

“Nathan, I’ve always owned the café.” She shook her head.

Slowly, she turned to go. I put the cupcake and coffee on the table and grabbed her arm, turning her toward me. I had been wrong, she had changed. Up close she looked disappointed and tired. Still beautiful but that smoothness of youth was tarnished from time.

“Talk to me. I haven’t seen you in what? Five years, and you can’t make time for me?”

“Six years. It’s been almost six years. You showed up in the middle of my midweek rush. You can’t expect me to drop everything to catch up on old times. I have a café to run, and I don’t have time for this right now.”

She grabbed a napkin from the decorative holder and pulled a pen from her pocket. She scribbled a phone number down and handed it to me.

“Call the café and make an appointment. I’d love to catch up.” I didn’t trust the sarcasm in her voice. “But right now, I have other priorities. I know you understand priorities.”

I knew what she was referring to. When I left her, I may have said something about getting my priorities in order. I nodded and let her go. She returned to her dance of taking and filling orders. I sat and watched. How could I not?

After that display, she showed me she was a woman with focus and inner strength. Of course, I more than halfway expected her to melt into me at my return and welcome me back with her soft lips and lush body. But this new Gabriella was powerful and a thousand times more intriguing.

I bit into the cupcake she hand-delivered to me, to get rid of me. I knew a brush-off bribe when it was handed to me. I had to pause and appreciate the way the treat practically melted on my tongue. Gabriella had always been a good baker, but this was intensely delicious. No wonder she had a line out the door.

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