Page 21 of An Espresso Machine’s Guide to Love & Mischief

“—to bail me out of jail. They’d do it in a second, but they’ve got so much going on right now—”

The receptionist picks up her phone. “I’m warning you!”

“We should probably…” I gesture at the desk with my chin.

Nephrite nods.

We shuffle toward the receptionist, who glares at us as she hovers her finger over her phone. Our shoes slip and slide on the wet floor, but we manage to keep our balance and set Diva on the desk.

Now that we’re close, I can see that the woman is wearing a name tag that reads ‘Molly.’ I inhale sharply, and her scent wafts into my nostrils. Penguin shifter.

“I’m calling the cops,” the receptionist says.

“Nice hair,” Diva tells her. “It would be a shame if someone were to… steam it!”

“Shit,” I cry as steam pours out of Diva’s every nozzle—even ones that aren’t supposed to produce steam. Not that I’m an expert when it comes to espresso machines, though I definitely plan to be. I want to know everything about her—and each one of her knobs and nozzles.

The steam envelops the desk and the receptionist, blocking both from my view. I’m glad that when Diva steamed me it wasn’t this thick, because the place is starting to look like a rave filled with fog machines.

“Aaahhh, my perm!” The receptionist—who’s fittingly named after a drug—screams from inside the cloud of steam. For a split second, I see a penguin, but then she shifts back to human. “I’m going to press charges. I’m going to make sure you spend the rest of your lives in jail.”

The rest of our lives in jail? I thought we’d get arrested and sent home with a warning. At most, I pictured us spending a few hours behind bars until Ben could get away from work long enough to bail us out. But actual jail? Jail jail? Jail?!?!

Anxiety swirls in my gut, and my mouth drops open of its own volition to show off my teeth.

“Don’t worry, they can’t arrest an espresso machine,” Diva says.

“But they can arrest us!” I say. Because of my open mouth, it comes out mumbled and slurred.

I don’t think anyone understands me. We’re doomed!

My arms and legs go as stiff as concrete. The world tilts and I fall backward. Oh, no! Not now!

My back slams into the floor and pain reverberates through my spine. I’m getting too old for playing dead. But hey, at least it didn’t happen while I was holding Diva—if she’d fallen on top of me, things would have been way worse.

I stare up at the ceiling, unable to move a muscle. I can’t even manage to blink.

“Oh, god, is he dead?” Molly screams.

Diva’s steam must have cleared already, or how else would she be able to see me?

“No, he’s—” Nephrite starts, but Diva cuts her off.

“Yes, and you’ll be next if you don’t let us through to see Milan.”

Yep, we’re definitely going to be arrested now.

I hear the sound of water spraying from a hose—likely Diva shooting it from a nozzle—and the receptionist cries out. “Aaahh, hot. Hot. Hot!”

Something clatters to the floor. I hope it’s Molly’s phone.

“Nooo, I’m out of water,” Diva cries.

“Security!” Molly screams at the top of her lungs. “Security, help!”

“There’s security?” Nephrite squeals.

I’m surprised Molly didn’t just call them earlier. She probably wanted to get us arrested instead. She seems like the type.