Even so, something stirred inside her. Before doubt could creep in, she opened the door.
It felt strange but also good to be back. Greta could picture herself spinning on the tap to extinguish the burnt brownies, and frantically wafting a tea towel in front of the smoke alarm, like a movie playing in her head.
Brewtique had the same hollow feel, too bright and with three customers sitting scattered, lost in their own worlds. The neon cup buzzed faintly on the wall like an electric fly trap.
Josie appeared from a room at the back, wrestling with a jug of frothy milk. Her apron was smeared with chocolate, and she wore a smudge of flour across the bridge of her nose.
‘Oh, Greta, hi! So great to see you,’ she said, blowing her fringe out of her eyes. ‘I’ve just survived a last-minute Christmas Eve flurry. What can I get you?’
Greta tapped the bridge of her own nose. ‘You’ve got a smudge.’
Josie’s eyes crossed slightly as she rubbed it away. ‘Is it gone?’ Greta nodded.
Josie let out a relieved sigh as the three customers all stood up and left at the same time. She glanced around the empty café. ‘I still don’t think I’m cut out to run a coffee shop.’
Greta pointed to the card in the window. ‘That’s actually why I came in. I saw your ad, and I’m interested in the job.’
‘You are?’ Josie blinked in surprise. ‘But you’re an actor . . .’
‘Wasan actor,’ Greta corrected her. ‘I’m looking for a new challenge.’
‘Well,challengeis definitely the right word for working here,’ Josie said, batting flour off her apron. ‘I haven’t had much interest in the role, maybe because it’s Christmas. Any applicants I’ve interviewed haven’t exactly been promising. Do you have any experience?’
‘Not really in a café environment. But I think I know what makes a good coffee shop.’
Josie studied her for a moment, then gestured to a table. ‘In that case, shall we sit down with a coffee?’ She eyed Greta’s shopping bags. ‘If you have time?’
Greta smiled. ‘I don’t have any plans.’
‘Snap. Me neither.’
A few minutes later, they settled into a corner devoid of any well-thumbed novels, toys, posters, or quirky motivational chalkboard signs. Greta felt the place was crying out for personality and for someone to love it. She took a sip of her coffee, and it felt good to drink an ordinary brew.
‘Maisie left her job soon after your talk. Nothing personal. She had stars in her eyes and is doing pretty well,’ Josie said. ‘Are yousureyou want a normal job?’
Normal.The word didn’t sound so scary to Greta anymore. It felt solid, like an anchor.
Greta nodded. ‘I loved my old career, but nothing lasts forever, and it’s time to move on. My daughter’s sixteen now, figuring out her own path. I think it’s time I did the same.’ Josie leaned back with an understanding smile. ‘I always dreamed of running a café, but the reality is very different. Honestly, I have no idea what to do with the place.’
Greta looked around her, her mind starting to light up with ideas. ‘You know what I love in coffee shops? A cosy, vintage vibe. Red fringed lampshades could give this place a warmer feel, and a TV in the corner playing retro commercials would add some charm. I can picture a few antique coffee grinders in the window.’
She pointed at the back wall. ‘You could add shelves, with lines ofjars filled with different coffee blends, much cosier than the neon cup. Then, perhaps a reading nook in the corner with lots of cushions. If dogs are allowed, you could have water bowls and some treats in a jar.’
As she spoke, Greta could almost hear the chatter and laughter of new customers.
Josie raised an eyebrow. ‘You have some great ideas,’ she said. ‘And most important of all, what about cakes?’
‘It’s got to be gooey, homemade rocky road, packed full of cherries and chocolate chips.’ Greta patted her hip with a grin.
‘Oh, I totally agree.’ Josie gazed around, as if trying to picture it all. ‘I think you could be exactly what this place needs, if you’re interested? I can’t offer much—a basic wage and parttime hours. I’d love to redecorate and hire someone full-time, but money’s tight . . .’
Greta’s mind worked quickly, weighing up her options. This might not be a glamorous opportunity, but it felt rewarding and real. Her first major step away from performing.
‘Maybe if I can turn things around, we can revisit those things,’ she said. ‘I also don’t really have any references. Not the kind you’d expect, anyway.’
Josie waved a hand. ‘That’s okay. You were an absolute godsend helping me out the evening of your talk.’ With a decisive nod, she stood up. ‘Let me give you a full tour before you make your decision.’
She led Greta into the stockroom, where the shelves were piled haphazardly with supplies. There was a small washroom in need of a lick of paint.
