I pace down the block sauntering past several local shops to my safe haven: Little Falls. This local cafe has been the only constant in my life—outside of event planning—these last few years. I’m a Little Falls regular, which is exciting because I’ve always wanted to be a regular for some sort of small business. The fact that the owner, Davis, knows me by name and always remembers my order makes me giddy. I’ve lived in Chrysocolla Cove for over four years, and this coffee shop is still the best part of the Cove for me. I’m a simple girl.
As I step inside, the aroma of artisan coffee beans, freshly baked sourdough bread, and apples engulfs me. I lean against the front counter, ready to order my usual. Little Falls has several velvet sofas and comfy chairs strategically placed throughout the shop, along with tall wooden bookshelves filled with fiction books and card games.
“How’s it going, Iris?” Davis peers my way from behind the counter, working on another order. I don’t know his exact age, but I’m guessing he’s in his mid-forties; his wrinkles, smile lines, and silver hair give it away. Without those features, he wouldn’t look a day over 35. People tend to dread aging, but I’ve always found it fascinating. There’s something so beautiful about looking into someone’s face, seeing their fine lines and crinkles—pure evidence that they’velived.
“Oh, just ready to inject pumpkin spice into my veins. Nothing new here,” I smile. “What’s the loaf of the day?”
“Oh, you’d never guess,” he chuckles, then reaches behind the counter and slides his knife through the loaf. He hands me a small piece of it. “Here, take a gander.”
My mouth waters as I nibble on the small slice he gave me. “Mmm, you can never go wrong with banana-nut bread. Compliments to the chef.”
“Definitely a fan-favorite at Little Falls, I’ll let her know you liked it.” Davis grins. His wife, Lilly, is the cafe’s world-renowned baker—a true artist in the Cove. “Do you want the usual today?”
“Always!” I pay, then sit in a cozy green accent loveseat at a table meant for two in front of the counter. After settling in with my back toward the counter, I reach into my tote and pull out my laptop, bracing myself for today’s hectic schedule while waiting.
Monday, October 2, 2023
9:00 a.m. - Clear Inbox
9:30 a.m. to 12:00 p.m. - Interviews
12:00 p.m. to 1:00 p.m. - Break + Reset
1:00 p.m. to 4:30 p.m. - Interviews
4:30 p.m. - Clear Inbox
Jam-packed. I have a total of eight interviews today. Interviews can be daunting for wishful applicants. Honestly,leading interviews makes me sweat sometimes, too. Ultimately, it’s all about experience and connection for me, though. I’m the Head Events Director at Soi Connect, a small Marketing Agency downtown. I may be biased, but the agency’s culture is immaculate; our Human Resources department takes the hiring process very seriously so as not to tamper with the “feng shui” of the office. By the time event-loving candidates make it to my office, they’ve already gone through two other interviews.
In other words, they’ve reached the final interview—the moment that will either make or break their job search. If I overthink each candidate’s job hunt, I may or may not get a little too emotionally invested, so I make a conscious effort to avoid overthinking it. While awaiting my order, I glance over the candidates’ resumes. I see some apparent standouts but can’t rely on their resumes alone. A piece of paper does not define a candidate’s worth. The former Director, Lena, hired me straight out of college. She took a chance on me, teaching me I could grow. If the opportunity arises, I would love to do the same for someone else.
I glance at my phone to check the time. Soi Connect is a fifteen-minute walk from here, so I still have time before I need to head out. Thankfully, I’m not running as late as I thought. I gaze to my right to peer out the shop’s window.
I see an arrangement of copper, brown, green, and rustic red leaves falling in clusters. The overcast sky composed of gray and pale blue makes my clouds difficult to admire today. I spot people in beanies, thin coats, and boots descending the cobblestone streets. Fall is in full swing in the Cove, and I couldn’t feel more relieved. Something about this season invigorates my soul.
While getting lost in my mind, I suddenly feel eyes lingering on me—from what direction, I’m unsure. Albeit alarming, this is not an odd occurrence. It’s become quite ordinary in recentyears. I often feel like someone is watching me. I carefully turn away from the window to my laptop nonchalantly.
While turning, I scan the warm, inviting cafe and see nothing particularly unusual: a couple sitting on a couch together, cuddling and whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears—okay,moving on.A dark-haired man scrolling while eating a sandwich, AirPods in. A young woman highlighting several lines in a textbook—likely a student. A couple of young employees stand near the front counter, anxiously waiting for their bosses’ orders to be ready.
Although someone may be watching me, I don’t observe anything worth noting. I feel fine. Thankfully, Little Falls is bustling this morning. I’d be more uneasy if the cafe were slow. I’d rather wait fifteen minutes in line at a busy time than have no wait and no company.
“Iris, your order’s up!” Davis shouts. I nearly topple out of my seat to meet him at the counter. He’s smiling brightly as he casuallyhands me my holy grail.
“My hero,” I grab the drink and immediately enjoy a mega quick sip before stepping away. “Thanks as always!”
And just like that, I’m jogging past the counter and back outside. Now, it’sofficiallytime to step into my badass business woman shoes.
Two
Jasper
Oh, boy. I’m in trouble.
Was moving back to my hometown the biggest mistake I’ve ever made? Probably, but only time will tell. I used to know who I was. Iwasa music enthusiast, a self-proclaimed food critic, a realist, and even a scholar at one point. All those things led to my true self’s grand reveal—I fooled everyone. At my core, I’mactuallyjust a Masters School Dropout.
I chuckled at the irony of it all.Jasper Alcott, valedictorian of his graduating class, hopes to move to the big city and make a difference.My graduating class and parents sent me off withhonor. I was overjoyed to start somewhere new after spending my whole life in the Cove.
My undergraduate experience was typical—early morning classes, parties, stressful midterms and finals, cranky professors, dating, hookups, on-campus jobs and extracurriculars, dorms that reeked of sweat and despair, the usual stuff we all go on and on about. I was lucky enough to study abroad for a semester in Italy. I enjoyed school. Loved it, even. In fact, I loved school so much that I chose to dive headfirst into a master's program focusing on finance roughly five years after working as an accountant in Seattle.
