Page 27 of An Espresso Machine’s Guide to Love & Mischief

“Security!” Barb shouts.

As if on cue, the elevator opens behind us with a ding. A dozen security guards rush out and race across the office floor, heading straight for the window, guns drawn.

“Shoot to kill!” one of them shouts.

“But it’s just a cute raccoon!” Neph cries.

“Don’t hurt him!” I scream at the same time.

“They’re a plague on this city,” one of the guards snaps. “Help me open this window.”

“Leave him alone,” I roar. I didn’t know windows this high even opened up.

I try to shoot steam from my nozzles. All I do is make a sputtering noise, and nothing comes out. All my tubes feel like a throat with strep now, rough and raw. Even heiresses get strep throat—and that was a very unpleasant way to spend the New Year in Paris.

Wait. I still have coffee beans left inside me!

I turn my attention inward and find the tube that sends the beans to the grinder. If I throw ground coffee at them, it would be the equivalent of slinging mud with an extra dose of pick-me-up. If I’m going to do damage, I need to attack with actual beans!

It takes effort—like weightlifting, just without any of the good post-workout burn. I jerk the tube so it faces outward and take aim.

“Beans, away! Pew pew pew!” I shout, but nothing happens.

Fuck. Okay. I need to push!

I bear down like I’m… well, going to the bathroom. The beans tumble into the tube and fly out, right at the guards.

“Take that!” I yell as I fire bean after bean.

Baseball was never my thing in life, and coffee-bean throwing isn’t really my thing in death. Beans bounce against arms, legs, backs, butts, ears and temples. They fly everywhere.

The guards don’t react. I focus and shoot them faster.

“Donovan. Get Mr. Del Ray out of here,” Barb orders.

“What should I do with his coffee machine? Did you see how it’s programmed to talk? It must be really, really expensive!”

“Just do as I say,” Barb snaps. Donovan salutes and rushes through the sliding door and down the hallway.

A guard slides the window open and a gust of wind roars through the room. He sticks his gun out the window, aiming at the raccoon.

I scream and aim my beans at him, but he doesn’t lower his gun.

“Neph, do something!”

Chapter 13

Diva

Neph glances between the guard aiming a gun at the raccoon and back to me. “What do I do? There are armed guards everywhere!”

“Something! Anything? Get me water! I’ll burn them.”

“I… um…” Neph looks around and shakes her head. “There’s no water! Wait, I know.” She pulls out her phone and points it at the guard. “Going live from Milan Del Ray’s personal office, where he’s just ordered security to kill Toronto’s unofficial mascot.”

I can see her phone screen from my vantage point on top of Barb’s desk, and it’s not even on. It’s a clever lie, though. Nobody wants the bad press of killing the cutest raccoon I’ve ever seen.

“Wait!” Barb shouts.