The floor under my feet is gone, and I'm sliding through it, with absolutely nothing to break my fall.
"Holy shit," Jane whispers. "That's actually him."
Elias approaches the counter, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Hey, Elise."
Just two words, and my stomach does a full somersault. I manage a smile that I hope doesn't look as shaky as it feels. "Hey."
Jane is staring openly, and I clear my throat. "Um, Jane, this is Elias. Elias, this is my sister, Jane."
"The owner of this amazing place," Elias says, extending his hand. "Nice to meet you."
Jane takes his hand, seemingly star-struck for a second before her protective big sister instincts kick in, giving him an appraising look that saysI'm watching you.
I can see the exact moment Jane decides she likes him—the slight relaxation of her shoulders, the genuine smile replacing her skeptical one.
"What can I get you?" I ask, grateful to have something to do with my hands.
"Iced Americano, please."
As I prepare his drink, I'm hyperaware of his eyes on me. My hands tremble, and I focus on not spilling anything. When I turn to hand him the drink, our fingers brush, and an electric current shoots up my arm.
Oh, my Lord.
"Thanks," he says, and I swear his voice is deeper than it was a moment ago.
He takes a seat at a corner table and pulls out his phone. I try not to watch him as I serve the next customer, but my eyes keep flicking his way. He lifts his phone, angles it toward the coffee cup, and takes a photo.
A few minutes later, Jane nudges me. "Um, Elise? Something's happening."
I follow her gaze to the front window, where a small group of people is peering inside, phones in hand. The bell chimes again, and three women enter, scanning the room. Their eyes land on Elias, and they whisper excitedly to each other before approaching the counter.
Within twenty minutes, the café is buzzing. The line stretches to the door—more customers than we've had all week.
"What the hell?" Jane says as she frantically restocks cups.
Elias approaches the counter, looking a bit sheepish. "Sorry about this. I posted a photo of the coffee." He shows us his phone—a simple shot of the iced Americano, Jane's Brew logo visible in the background. No caption, just the location tag.
Jane's eyes widen. "This is because of one photo?"
He shrugs. "Twenty million followers. They tend to follow where I go."
"Twenty million?" Jane almost chokes. "When that other girl from your high school posted about us, we got maybe three extra customers. This is ... wow."
By 3:00 PM, my shift is officially over, but I'm still helping with the rush. Jane finally pushes me away from the counter at 3:15.
"Go," she says, nodding toward Elias, who's waiting patiently. "I've got this. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
I roll my eyes as I untie my apron. "That leaves a pretty wide margin."
She grins, shooing me away. "Exactly."
I lead Elias to the side door that leads to my apartment stairs, acutely aware of his presence behind me. The staircase isnarrow, forcing him to walk close enough. My hands shake slightly as I unlock the door, then push it open.
"Sorry, it's so small," I tell him, stepping inside. My studio apartment suddenly seems even tinier with his large frame filling the doorway.
"It's great," he says, looking around. "Cozy."
I watch nervously as he takes in my space. The full bed pushed against the wall, the small desk under the window covered with papers, the overstuffed bookshelf. I spent an hour this morning tidying up, hiding the laundry pile, and washing the few dishes I had, but there's only so much you can do with 400 square feet.
