Her excitement doesn’t wane. “I’ll find someone to cover.” She presses her palms together in a prayer gesture, shaking them at me. “Please be happy for me.”
Despite the trepidation I feel, I force a smile. “It’s great news, Soph.”
Before she can throw her arms around me, Lexie walks in, and the air seems to lighten, charge, and warm all at once. She’s bundled up in the raspberry scarf she often wears, her cheeks pink from the cold. Her navy-blue eyes flick to mine, and for a beat, there’s nothing else. Our gazes hold, and I see the memory of last night play across her features, deepening her blush. Weshare a smile—until the chaos of Sophia bursts through the moment.
“Lexie!” She darts around the counter. “You’re just in time! I need your advice. Come with me!”
Lexie startles at Sophia’s exuberance. She doesn’t resist as my sister pulls her toward a table near the window, launching into her news before they even sit down.
I watch them from behind the counter, reaching for the milk steamer and starting on a latte for her. They look good together. Lexie’s calm, thoughtful demeanor balances Sophia’s boundless energy.
Inspired by her scarf, I mix the classic pairing of white chocolate with raspberry, adding a splash of vanilla to smooth out the flavors. Then I pour in a shot of espresso and the steamed milk, working the foam into the shape of a rose and dusting it with cocoa powder.
I scribble a note on a napkin, one that’s sure to make her cringe and smile at the same time.
Resigned to the fact that my sister has stolen my coffee date with Lex, I make Sophia her usual—a sparkling pink lemonade refresher—and bring it over along with two warm berry scones.
I place the latte in front of Lexie.
“Thank you.” There’s a glimmer in her eyes as they drift from the rose back up to me. “It’s beautiful.” She pauses a moment to appreciate it before taking out her phone to snap a few pictures.
When she lifts the cup for a sip, she grins, shaking her head, and I know she’s seen my note. “This issogood,” she says of the latte, tucking the napkin into her coat pocket. As she does, her fingers brush against my hand—brief, discreet, and only for me.
Sophia glances between us, her face scrunching up. “Aw, you two are so cute.”
“Your brother is very adorkable.”
Sophia laughs. “Wait till you see his comic book collection. The ones on his shelves are displayed like trophies, and he keeps the others organized in protective sleeves. He even has them all listed in a spreadsheet.”
“Really?” Lexie says, intrigued.
“All right, that’s enough about me,” I interject. “How goes the plotting?”
Sophia rolls her eyes at me. “I have no idea what I should say to a marketing director or a VP. I don’t want to screw up my chances by saying the wrong thing. I know I can chat too much and, like, be over-the-top sometimes.”
“You’re the perfect amount of you,” Lexie says, beating me to it. “I can’t stress enough the importance of being yourself. That’s what you want to showcase at these events. Without much experience yet, what you bring is your uniqueness—your work ethic, your contagious effervescence. Companies that value those traits will be the best fit for you. If you have to be something you’re not, it probably isn’t the right firm.”
Sophia listens intently, hanging onto her every word. Lexie echoes my sentiment about Sophia staying true to herself. She’s learned the hard way about the cost of twisting herself into someone she isn’t. Now she’s here, rediscovering herself—the woman I’m falling more in love with each day.
“I’m going to steal Lexie for a moment,” I say, inserting myself when there’s a break in the conversation. “I need to show her something in the back.”
“Uh-huh,” Sophia drawls. “I’m sure you do.”
“Watch the counter,” I shoot back with a smirk. “We won’t be long.”
Lexie takes another sip of her latte and rises, brushing imaginary crumbs off the front of her bulky sweater. It’s baggy and hides all the fun stuff, but it’s still sexy on her-—everything is. As I urge her ahead of me, gesturing toward the back room, my gaze slides down her long legs, encased in black leggings and knee-high boots. Last night, I’d seen her in nothing but her panties. White cotton had never looked so good.
“Thanks for what you’re doing,” I say when we reach the back and the door closes behind us. The room is multi-functional, serving as space for my desk, storage shelves, and a small prep kitchen with a stainless steel counter and industrial fridge.
“I like Sophia,” she says. “She’s smart and creative, full of energy and optimism. I want to see her land well—with a company that values what she brings. I know how important that is to you.”
“It is.”
“So, is that why you brought me back here? To thank me?” She tilts her head, looking up at me through her glasses. Her bangs softly curtain her face, her hair brushing her shoulders.
“There was one other thing.” I take a step forward and comb my fingers through the sides of her hair, looking into her eyes. “I made a white-chocolate foaming cream that I wanted to get your opinion on.”
“Sounds delicious.”
