Mom nods, her tears mingling with a sad smile. “I know you will, Sana. Your dad believed in you. And so do I.”
I look at her and return her smile, my heart heavy with a storm of emotions, each one pulling me in a different direction. Unable to bear it any longer, I close my eyes and rest my head on Mom’s lap, letting her comforting presence calm me. As the peace settles over me, only one thought rises above the rest—my determination to honour my parents’ dreams. Above all else, it is now my sole purpose in life.
Chapter 1
Sana
A year later
Squinting against the bright sun, I lift my right hand to shield my eyes, and a grin spreads across my face as I gaze at the signboard of my coffee shop.
Brewing Bliss.
It’s been nearly a year since I lost my dad, and moving on with life without him while managing the café hasn’t been easy. Yet, with my mom’s unwavering emotional support and my own determination to fulfil Dad’s dream, I’m proud to say that Brewing Bliss has become one of the most popular café hangouts in town, even making it onto Page Three every weekend. In fact, we’ve been ranked among the top fifty and have been named as the most promising café in Bangalore.
Still smiling, I look down at my purse, fishing for my keys before turning the knob and pushing the door open. I don’t bother flipping the sign to ‘Open’ just yet. It’s only nine, and I have a full hour before the day officially begins. Also, that’s a task my manager-turned-friend, Mili, usually handles when she arrives at around ten.
Taking a deep breath, I step inside, and immediately, the faint aroma of coffee wraps around me. I pause at the entrance, soaking in my café—a place that holds a piece of my heart. The morning light spills through the tall glass windows, casting a warm, golden glow across the polished wooden floors. I’ve always loved how Dad designed it with so much thought and care, giving it a vintage charm that puts people at ease the moment they step in. The walls are lined with vintage coffee ad posters, while the rich mahogany furniture blends beautifully with the soft, cream-coloured walls.
As I walk further in, I set my purse down on the counter and slip in the routine of tidying up. I give the counter a quick wipe before starting the espresso machine. With the machine warming up, I flip on the lights before turning my attention to the chairs. Their cushioned seats need a bit of adjusting, so I move through the space, straightening them one by one. I also adjust the napkin holders on each table, ensuring everything looks just right.
Just as I finish and make my way back to the counter, the bell above the door jingles, and Kiara walks in. Dressed in crisp black high-waisted pants and a tucked-in blouse, her brown hair falling neatly to her shoulders, she looks every bit the stylish interior designer she is. Kiara is a regular customer and, more importantly, a friend I made. I still remember the day she first walked into my café, her diary in hand, jotting down ideas for starting her interior design firm. I couldn’t resist striking up a conversation with her, and that one chat blossomed into a friendship that’s only grown stronger since then.
“Good morning! How’s my favourite barista today?” she asks with her usual bright smile, her brown eyes twinkling as she sets her purse on the counter.
“Morning to you too! I’m doing great,” I reply, returning her smile. “Are you sticking with your usual today?”
“Actually, I’m not here for coffee. I just wanted to drop by and say hi,” she says. I raise an eyebrow, surprised, since she never turns down my coffee. But before I can ask if she’s okay, she adds with a grin, “And before you start overthinking, let me reassure you—I’m perfectly fine. It’s just that I have a packed day ahead of me and need to rush. But I couldn’t do that without saying a quick hi to you.”
“I’m glad you made time to stop by. You’re always welcome here, coffee or not,” I say, leaning on the counter. “Care to share what’s keeping you so busy?”
“The list is long—new client, finalising on-hold projects, and a million other things to juggle,” she says with a sigh.
“Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate. How about I get you a to-go coffee, just to help you power through?”
She shakes her head. “Nah, Mom’s already spoiled me with breakfast and coffee this morning.” She pauses for a beat, glancing around the café before meeting my eyes again. “You know how much I enjoy coming here. So, I’ll be back later for my daily fix. My day just isn’t the same without your coffee.”
Her words bring a warmth to my chest, and I can’t help but feel a deep sense of pride. Hearing this, not just from her, but from many others who walk through these doors, reminds me why I pour my heart into this place. It’s moments like these that make all the efforts worthwhile.
“I’ll have your usual ready when you get here,” I reply, smiling.
“Perfect. I’ll see you later,” she says with a nod, gathering her purse before heading toward the door. Just before leaving, she pauses, glancing back at me with a playful grin. “And I’m turning the sign to ‘Open.’ I don’t want people missing out on your coffee just because you’re waiting for the clock to strike ten!” With a wink, she flips the sign and steps outside. I shake my head, smiling at her usual antics before getting to work.
I’m going through last evening’s accounts when the bell over the door chimes again. I glance up, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. A handsome man walks in, dressed in a tailored three-piece suit, oozing quiet confidence. His eyes are glued to his mobile, giving me an excuse to study him. He’s tall, probably around six feet, with broad shoulders and a well-built frame. His strong jawline and stylishly set hair make him look like he just stepped off a Page Three spread.
And just like that, a swarm of butterflies flutters in my stomach. Seriously? I’ve served hundreds of customers, but I’ve never felt this way about any of them before.Why the hell am I acting like a love-struck teenager?
I shake my head, trying to snap myself out of this ridiculous attraction, reminding myself that he’s just a customer. I need to serve him, not stare at him like a hopeless romantic.
“Good morning, sir,” I greet him with a professional smile. “Welcome to Brewing Bliss.”
He looks up from his mobile, but instead of returning my smile, he frowns—his deep, chocolatey brown eyes locking onto mine, making my brows furrow in confusion. Before I can question it, he speaks in a brisk tone. “A large black coffee. No sugar, no cream. Make it quick.”
Arrogant jerk.I take back my stupid, fleeting moment of admiration as I nod with a tight-lipped smile. “Of course. One large black coffee coming right up.”
“Quick,” he repeats, levelling me with a look with those intense brown eyes.
“Of course,” I reply, keeping my voice polite despite his rude tone grating on my nerves. I’ve dealt with my fair share of difficult customers, but there’s something particularly prickly about him that makes me want to tell him to leave his attitude at the door. Still, I push the irritation down.Customer is king, andgood service is the key. I just need to focus and do my job with patience, I remind myself.
