The next morning you, once again, set aside time to get coffee from the place with the charismatic barista before heading to work. You found yourself keeping a closer eye on your appearance than you usually did on these busy mornings, you put on your nicest work pants and doc martens, did your makeup lightly but carefully and hung your favourite earrings from your ears.
You walk into the coffeeshop, the bell chiming above your head, and walk up to the counter where Gideon is engaging in conversation with a mother with a stroller. She looks up at the sound of your footsteps and smiles before returning her focus to the woman in front of her.
“Have you tried pilates? You seem like the typa lady to do pilates” you catch her say with one of her charming smiles that showed off most of her teeth. The woman blushes in return, brushing off her comment and pushing her toddler away and then she’s turning to you and allowing herself one trailing glance down your body, she leans over the counter on her forearms. “The pretty woman couldn’t stay away”. Your hands go up in surrender, “I have to say, the coffee was pretty good”
“Did you doubt me?”
“No, no, I would never. I just finally understand what all the rage is about. I’d say most of the rage probably comes from you flirting with the town’s milfs though” You nod your head towards the young mother who was tapping away happily on her phone. She looks back at me with a smile like she’s just amused herself, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
You laugh at her with a shake of your head. “You want the same as yesterday?” She asks, but she’s already pressing buttons on her screen.
“Yes. Thank you”
She goes to make the lineup of orders, bustling behind the coffee machine. Every now and then you’d get a glimpse of her hands working in a way they had been trained to, or she’d look up to catch your eye and you’d feel your stomach flip. You had to admit, she was good at her job, especially when it came to her customers.
The days went on like that, every work morning, you’d walk in and she’d be waiting for you with a grin on that handsome face, ready for you. Every time you saw her, you’d notice things in the way she looked you over and how she always knew what to say to keep the conversation from becoming awkward. She was so confident, It was almost impressive. There was one morning you’d come in a rush and she knew just what to say to stop you from stressing about being late. Another morning, you saw her in action, talking to that one woman about her long black and when she realised you had walked in to hear it, she looked up to wink at you when she was certain the lady wouldn’t see. There was also that morning, a Thursday, when she flexed her arms from beneath her t-shirt and caught the way your eyes flicked down to follow it. When you had looked back up, she was biting her lip to stop a smile from coming through. She made you feel as though you were a special part of her day, though that couldn’t be true. She saw maybe 100 different faces each day, yours was just another, it was simply her job to create a bond with her patrons, gotta keep them coming back.
But maybe you could indulge yourself, let yourself feel special every morning. And to be fair, the two of you had made some progress over the past couple of weeks. The relationship had gone from you apprehensively engaging in conversation with her when she barely gave you a choice to do so, to looking forward to your morning coffee and chat before starting your long and dreaded workday.
