Nora hesitates. "Do you really want her to?"
I open my mouth. Close it. The video's already been shared two hundred times. The damage, if you can call it that, is done.
"Fine. Leave it."
Nora squeals and hugs her phone to her chest. "This is so good for business."
She's not wrong. By four o'clock, three new customers wander in, phones in hand, asking about the orc and the kitten. I answer politely, take their orders, and try not to think about Grath's hands or the way he smelled like a storm rolling in off the ocean.
I fail.
By five, the cafe's buzzing. Gumbo's holding court at his usual table, regaling a cluster of newcomers with an embellished version of events. Big Pete's fielding questions about Grath, though he clearly knows nothing. Nora's at the counter, ringing up orders and grinning like she just won the lottery.
I retreat to the back room. Urchin and the new kitten are curled together in the cardboard box, a tangle of black and tabby fur. I sit on the floor and watch them breathe.
My phone buzzes. A text from an unknown number.
Saw the video. Kitten okay?
I look at the screen. Type back.She's fine. How'd you get my number?
Gumbo.
Of course. I should've known.
She's settling in. Thanks again for bringing her.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
Good. Let me know if you need anything.
I tuck the phone into my apron and lean my head back against the wall. The cafe noise filters through the door, muffled and warm. Urchin's purr rumbles faintly from the box.
My chest still feels tight.
I blame the espresso.
The next morning,the video's hit ten thousand views. Nora shows me on her phone before I've even finished my first cup of coffee. I grunt and wave her away, but she's undeterred.
"People are asking if Grath works here."
"He doesn't."
"I know. But they're asking."
I dump a scoop of grounds into the espresso machine. "Tell them the truth."
"I did. Now they're asking if he's coming back."
I pause mid-tamp. "What'd you say?"
"That I didn't know." She props her chin on her hand, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Is he?"
"How would I know that?"
"You have his number now," she points out, waggling her phone at me like evidence.
"So what?"
