I turn to the machine and prepare his order, silently cursing his arrogance as I rush to get him out of my sight as quickly as possible. Once the coffee is ready, I place the cup on the counter, doing my best to mask my frustration.
“Here you go,” I say as I type on the computer. “That’ll be two hundred.”
He pulls out his card from his wallet and slaps it onto the counter without a word. Trying to stay calm, I take the card and swipe it through the machine. As I do, I notice him grab the cup and take a sip of the coffee. But the next moment, he grimaces, nearly choking on the hot liquid.
“What the hell—this isn’t black coffee. It’s got sugar in it,” he snaps.
Oh no! Damn me for messing up his order, though honestly, he’s the one who should be blamed for it, since he’s the reason my nerves are all over the place, the reason I can’t think straight. But I don’t voice that. Instead, I hand back his card with an apologetic smile and say, “I’m so sorry. Let me fix that for you right away.”
He places his hands on the counter and leans in slightly, his sharp gaze locking with mine. His nearness makes me gulp. “You know, for someone running a café, you couldn’t even get a simple order right.”
I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “It was an honest mistake. I’ll have it corrected in just a moment.”
“Honest mistake?” he scoffs. “Well, your so-called ‘honest mistake’ just ruined my morning. I don’t know how your customers trust a place like this where they can’t even manage the basics.”
I clench my jaw, struggling to stay professional as his attitude clearly tests my patience. “I understand I messed upyour coffee, and I take full responsibility for it. But that’s no reason to be rude.”
“Rude? It’s called being frustrated,” he scoffs with a smirk, clearly enjoying his little power trip. “And a free piece of advice—maintaining quality standards is something you should work on.”
“With all due respect, I agree that maintaining quality is important, but so is being respectful. Making someone feel worthless over a minor mistake is unnecessary.” I snap, my patience wearing thin. “I’ve already apologised and promised to fix it. If that’s not good enough for you, feel free to take your business elsewhere. Otherwise, you are welcome to wait while I make you a fresh cup.”
“I’ll wait,” he replies stiffly.
“Great.” I grab the cup when the jerk decides to speak up again.
“You’ve got quite the temper for someone in customer service.”
I give him my best fake smile. “And you’ve got quite the arrogance for someone who isn’t all royalty. But I suppose we all have our flaws,” I say sweetly, daring him to keep pushing my buttons.
To my growing annoyance, he stays silent. Ironically, that is the only thing I can be grateful for since he walked through that door. “Now, let me get your coffee,” I add before turning around to make his new cup.
This time, I focus completely, determined not to make any mistakes. Once it’s ready, I take a deep breath, then turn to him.
“Here’s your fresh coffee. I’m truly honoured to serve you,” I say, my tone dripping with sarcasm.
The jerk smirks as he lifts his cup. “Glad to grant you the honour. But as for me? I’m not sure I can call myself a happycustomer. I mean, a café that needs two attempts to get a simple coffee right? Not exactly my scene.”
I smirk back, not missing a beat. “Good. That means I won’t have to see you again. As for the coffee, I’ve fixed it, so I’d say you can have a nice day.”
“You know, you’re a bit more intriguing than I gave you credit for,” he grins, taking a long sip of his coffee.
I give a shrug. “And you’re a little more annoying than I expected.” Then, I flash him another one of my most practiced fake smiles. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
He nods, his infuriating smirk still playing on his lips as he takes another slow sip, his eyes still locked on mine. His intense stare sends a ripple of unease through me. Finally, he sets the cup down and heads for the door. I release a long breath as I watch him walk out. There’s something about him that feels different, though I can’t quite decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Not wanting to overthink it and torture myself further, I shake my head and get back to work.
Not long after, the door swings open and Mili walks in, her bright smile instantly lifting my mood.
“Good morning,” she greets cheerfully as she walks behind the counter, wrapping me in a side hug.
“Morning,” I smile back.
Mili has been with the café since my dad’s time, and when I took over, we quickly became close friends. I can’t imagine running this place without her. She’s been my rock through everything. At twenty-nine, she’s a few years older than me, but the age difference never mattered to us. It feels like we’ve known each other forever.
“Let me throw my bags and put on my apron. I’ll be right back,” she says, hurrying to the back to stow away her things. Five minutes later, she returns to the counter, wearing herapron, with her long black hair tied up into a ponytail. “I see you didn’t wait for me to flip the sign toOpen.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “That was Kiara.”
She grins at me. “I guess that’s no shocker. Did we have any customers?”
