Perfect!
It must be my lucky day because the booth also has an electrical outlet to plug in my laptop. I can take my time this morning and not rush because I won’t have to worry about my battery dying. When I’m working, I tend to get lost in my current project and lose track of time. Luckily, I’ve set up my programs to autosave my work every ten minutes to avoid losing anything. That happened once...Never again.
I slip into my seat and begin to meticulously unpack my belongings. After everything is set up and ready to go, I take a moment to enjoy the hustle and bustle of my surroundings.
Steam curls from my mug, carrying the rich scent of roasted espresso, peppermint, and mocha. It’s only mid-November, butthe speakers are already streaming Christmas music. I don’t mind, though, because this is my favorite time of year. The lights, the sounds, the overall joy that encompasses me. The bells above the shop entrance jingle in time with "Jingle Bells" over the speakers, making me smile as I take a bite of the warm, chocolatey goodness.
Damn, that’s good. Now, time to work.
My laptop hums quietly in front of me, the cursor blinking and taunting me as I take a break and stretch out my stiff muscles. I’ve been typing nonstop for an hour, chasing a thought before it slips away. I pause for a sip of my mocha, listening to “Hey Santa” by Wilson Phillips in the background.
“I’d like to wish for a man to show up at my door this year,” I say with a chuckle. “That’d require a Christmas miracle.”
I gave up on men a year ago, after I found my dipshit ex in bed with who I thought was my best friend.
So fucking cliché.
I shake off the melancholy and dive back into work. It’s one of those rare, perfect afternoons. The world blurs to background noise, and I’m just… here. Writing. Focused. Content.
“Hey,” a voice says.
I glance up. A man stands by my table, coat half-zipped, coffee in hand, wearing that practiced smile that saysI’m charming. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
“Can I help you?” I ask, hoping he’s mistaken me for someone else.
He gestures to the empty chair across from me. “Mind if I sit? This place is packed.”
I glance around. There are at least three empty tables in clear sight. I was so focused on work that I didn’t realize how quiet it had become. “Actually, I’m working.”
He smirks. “Working, huh? On what?”
“Something that requires my full concentration.” I smile faintly, shake my head, and start typing again, hoping he takes the hint.
He gestures toward my drink. “Can I get you another…?” His voice fades off as if I’ll tell him what I’m drinking.
“I’m good, thanks.” I try to turn back to my laptop, but he sits across from me without waiting for an answer. My stomach tightens.
This man is bold.
He leans forward, elbows on the table, grinning like we’re already friends. “You come here a lot? I think I’ve seen you around.”
I close my laptop halfway, meeting his eyes. “Look, I really don’t want to be rude, but I’m not looking for company.”
“Come on,” he says, his tone sharpening. “It’s just a conversation. Don’t gotta act like I’m some creep.”
I blink. “Then don’t act like one.”
His grin slips for a second before coming back tighter. “Wow. Okay. I’m just trying to be friendly. You still haven’t told me your name?”
“I didn’t offer it.”
“I’m Travis,” he says, totally ignoring my comment.
I lift the top of my laptop, dismissing him.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” Travis pushes.
Damn it! No such luck.
