Damn, that line moved too fast.
“Long black, please,” I said. Flat whites were strictly a Steamy Sips thing. This place was getting no more of my cash stash than necessary.
“Takeaway?” he asked, looking bored. His practiced fingers tapped away at the tablet on the counter that took the orders. My eyes scanned the room again, and he tapped his fingers impatiently on the screen.
“Have here.” My smile wasn’t returned. I considered cracking a joke to thaw the vibe, but he looked like someone who might spit in my drink if I did.
“You’ll never believe it!” a voice cried behind me. A woman burst through the automatic doors on a mobility scooter, snagging a dying ponytail palm, knocking over a sign and rolling on. “I locked my keys in the damn car yesterday.” A server followed behind, tidying the trail of destruction. “Fox, the side window’s open halfway and you’ll fit. None of that coat-hanger nonsense works on these fandangled new cars.”
I smiled at the nameFox.With his pointy nose and carefully trimmed goatee, it suited him. Fox, however, looked as if his bottom lip might wobble any minute, as he rattled off excuses. He was overdue for his scheduled break, and he'd injured something that sounded conveniently made up doing squats at the gym. She eyed him with a stony face before realising I was standing there.
“You,” she boomed, stabbing an index finger in the air. “You’re tiny. You do it.”
I swallowed hard, and my brain emptied. It wasn’t the thought of climbing through a stranger’s car window to get a set of lost keys, which, by the way had to be the weirdest thing I’d ever been asked to do while getting my morning coffee. It was her tone.
Saying no wasn’t an option. That same energy clung to Fox, who looked like a school boy waiting for detention. The woman scanned my appearance with a sharp stare. I dragged my gaze across her face. Not the tornado I’d come for, but definitely storm-adjacent.
White hair streaked with green and pink, knotted hands gripping the scooter’s handlebars, and feet swollen to bursting in her shoes. She radiated authority like someone who’d once ruled an empire.
“I’m meeting someone,” I lied.
“Hot date first thing in the morning?” Her glacier-blue eyes narrowed. My back began to sweat, and I clasped my hands behind it so that I wouldn’t wring my fingers.
I’m an independent woman. I don’t know her. She doesn’t know me. I don’t have to do bizarre favours for strangers.
I took the coffee Fox had abandoned on the counter. “Miss Lissy.”
Her expression shifted—surprise, confusion, then a smirk. It unsettled me.
She snapped her fingers at Fox, who all but flinched. Without a word, he slouched away to retrieve her keys.
“Olivia!” she called out.
The young woman from earlier zipped out of the kitchen, tucking one earbud into her apron as she approached. WasthisOlivia? My stomach flipped.
Ashy blonde hair. Lines around the mouth. Easily in her thirties.
My stomach tumbled.
"Cover the counter," Scooter Tornado demanded. I assumed at this point that she was the owner.
Olivia stood behind the counter alphabetising the loyalty cards and occasionally frowning when she looked up and realised I was still staring at her. Eventually she just turned her back, which was fair enough. I would’ve too.
“You come with me,” the woman ordered, not waiting for a response. Her scooter screeched forward as we made our way to a small woman sitting in a leather booth by the window that looked out to the day-care centre next door.
“Lis, this one’s here for you.”
The woman seated at the table looked up from her newspaper, and her brow crinkled. This was not the Miss Lissy of my childhood. That woman had been massive. I’d earned the right to say that after having her crushing weight restrict my breathing countless times. I intended on apologising to this Lis for the mix-up once Scooter Tornado had departed. I had a feeling I’d be standing in an uncomfortable situation with her for much longer if I didn’t play along.
“Thanks, Betty,” Lis said as she appraised me.
Huh, Betty. I guess that was better than scooter tornado, although I would’ve pegged her as something different.Lilithperhaps. Betty nodded once, then reversed away, her scooter beeping as she backed into chairs and clipped ankles. She shot dirty looks at anyone in her path, as if they’d placed themselves there to spite her.
She reminded me of someone who, in ancient times, was carried around on a palanquin by four powerful men and who despised the peasants beneath her.
“Sorry,” I said as Betty disappeared behind the counter.
The woman with a black pageboy haircut eyed me as she folded her newspaper and put it to the side.
