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A cup of tea, not chai, not iced was a perfect accompaniment to easing the transition into a new book. Painstakingly not getting crumbs on his cravat, Edgeworth set down his piece of lemon cake and contemplated using a fork. The sound of hissing steam caught his ear along with a verbal shout. Glancing up he spied the young barista behind the counter with spiky hair jammed under a visor. Across from him the person he presumed was the manager, with a store apron curving over her chest.
“Phoenix, don’t use so much steam next time, ok?” his manager chided, yet there was no anger, just a tried patience in her voice.
“Right Chief,” chirped or rather babbled the spiky haired culprit. Both men exchanged a knowing look, but that goofy grin baffled Edgeworth due to its spontaneous nature. How long had the guy worked here? At least as long as Edgeworth had stopped in on his way home from the firm he worked at with his uncle Ray since he was fired from Von Karna. He shuddered, pushing that aside.
Glancing at his empty mug Edgeworth rose to his feet and stood in front of the cash register. His reflection ghosted over the shiny cabinet which was a window on the world of pastries. The way the spiky haired barista slid behind that counter reminded him of a dance. They had only spoken a few words among small smiles, yet Edgeworth felt his heart lighten at the sight of Phoenix cheerfully passing him a beverage a few times each week.
“Phoenix,” she hissed. “Your favorite customer again. I’ll handle the machine…”
“Sure Chief,” he replied.
Popping his visor on his head, he moved or rather fluttered over to the register. “Can I help you?”
So had he just come on shift when Edgeworth first arrived? The cravat wearing man in magenta glimpsed his watch once more. How amazing when a book drew you inside and you lost track of ambient time.
“I’ll have a…” he began, contemplating the tea, yet realizing he wanted something different for some reason.
“Cappuccino… no wait… you’re a tea guy… you had an Earl Grey… how about a chai?” Phoenix asked. That’s what his name tag said. Phoenix. Legendary, but odd. He had seen the name and puzzled it before.
“No thank you. Too spicy,” huffed Edgeworth. Perfect, the one beverage he didn’t want.
“Well why not something different, since that’s the third time you’ve come in for the same old same old,” Phoenix asked, eyes partly shut.
“Is it your habit to mock what your customers want?” Edgeworth asked, frowning.
“No no no, it’s just… well… we have a special on hot chocolate today and since it’s cold out…”
“If you have noticed what I’ve been drinking the last few times as a barista, isn’t it folly to push a regular customer to another product he may or may not like?”
“Hold it..” Phoenix protested, holding up a hand. “It’s just…. well… you look like a guy who’d like hot chocolate… once in awhile?”
Grey eyes narrowed at the barista. “I beg your pardon,” Edgeworth began, his cold tone almost matching the weather outside.
“Well, If you don’t want hot chocolate… I’ll brew you another earl grey… but we do have some Rooibos tea with a hint of rose and cinnamon you might like. It’s our warm blend…” Phoenix said quickly.
“So your knowledge extends not just to coffee or matters chocolate after all,” Edgeworth replied, finger tapping on his magenta sleeve.
“At Kurain Java and Tea, we are all trained extensively in both,”Phoenix replied, nodding.
“Then why offer me hot chocolate?”
“It’s on special, and well… people that don’t like coffee… who are tea drinkers… sometimes express an interest in hot chocolate,” Phoenix said, tapping his chin.
“How astute. Though you could have sold it a bit more smoothly,” Edgeworth countered, his lips twitching in amusement.
“Excuse me, could you please make up your mind, mister?” Someone behind him in line called out, tapping their foot.
Edgeworth cast his best withering glance in the direction of the customer, until he caught the anxious glance of the barista. Obviously he didn’t want to be the cause of dissatisfied customers when he simply was one himself.
“Very well, I’ll try the hot chocolate…” he resolved, tapping his finger on his folded arm.
“Whipped cream? You look like you’d enjoy that…”
“Looked like? How do you figure a beverage on a person’s mere appearance, pray tell?” Edgeworth almost, but not quite scoffed.
“Not appearance, habits,” Phoenix again countered.
What must have been the stare of the customer behind him caused Edgeworth’s neck muscles to twitch. He then said, “hot chocolate it is…”
“All right then. Anything else?”
“A slice of iced lemon cake, please…” Edgeworth added, quickly glancing back at the now lengthening line of patrons. Some looked amused, others annoyed as he stood directly in front of the counter.
“I’ll go grab that for you…” came the cheerful reply. Phoenix typed into the order on the screen with long graceful fingers. Edgeworth felt heat come to his cheeks catching himself staring at those graceful hands. He half wanted to hold them, but then shook the idea out of his mind, instead focusing on the spikes jammed under that visor.
Here he thought his hairstyle was distinctive… Edgeworth’s fingers brushed the baristas at the moment he handed his bank card over.
“Edgeworth, right?” Phoenix asked, sliding the card in the slot. No place for a chip card, unlike other shops. Nodding, the cravat wearing customer reached for his card and the slip of receipt torn off.
Both the paper and the receipt returned to his wallet. Edgeworth then stood by while Phoenix was urged out of the way by the manager, who quickly addressed the next customer. He raised a brow at the whisper between the two employees before the switch. He glimpsed the red tie sling around Phoenix’s neck that vanished behind the bib of his black barista apron. Unlike the boss, the logo of the shop was flat against his chest in contrast to the way it curved over his bosses chest.
Never mind, he would watch Phoenix who turned around to grab a mug and the other ingredients necessary. From behind the young man’s pants seemed nicely tailored or at least fit his hips and backside well. The neat bow his apron strands made sat at the small of his back across a white shirt.
Unlike some of the other baristas in other days Phoenix was the only one to wear a tie and dress shirt under his apron. Others wore polo shirts or T shirts. Usually with logos concealed beneath their apron bibs.
The whoosh off Phoenix squirting whipped cream into a spiral atop the finished drink caught his senses again. A faint bit of steam seeped around the artful conical spiral. Small sprinkles dropped and adhered to it in places after they plummeted from the container Phoenix held.
“One hot chocolate with the works, for Edgeworth,” Phoenix announced, pushing it across the bar at him. Once again their fingers met as the magenta suited patron took hold of the mug.
“Thank you very much, Wright,” Edgeworth said with a nod.
“How’d you know my last name?” Phoenix asked, eyes wide in an adorable look of surprise.
“You are not the only observant one,” said Edgeworth as he turned and carried his beverage without spilling it.
“Hold it…” called Phoenix.
Edgeworth set down his drink before he turned. “Yes, Wright?”
“I’d like to know how…” began the spiky haired barista, a question in his dark eyes.
“Perhaps you could puzzle it over whilst I sample the special you successfully sold me?” Edgeworth answered, allowing a tiny smile to creep over his face.
“Well…” Phoenix began, only stopping when his customer pushed a business card across the counter.
“You could call… me later,” began Edgeworth.
Brow wrinkling, Phoenix took the card, turning it over. “If it’s business sure but since I’m still working…”
“If you puzzle it out before I leave, that’s one matter. Afterwards you may want to discuss a delivery to my firm. You do cater after all?”
Worry faded from Phoenix’s face. Good, he understood the opening given him under the eyes of his watching boss. Business before personal, even in a coffee shop.
“Sure thing, Mr. Edgeworth. I’ll be in touch,” Phoenix replied, pocketing the card. That warm smile seemed to melt him inside more than he supposed the hot chocolate was about to do.
Sitting down he picked up his book and wrapped his hand around the heat converting into the mug. He would have to wait a few seconds before even attempting to sip that molten hot confection.
Was Phoenix watching him he wondered as he finally took a tentative sip? The way that the barista quickly turned back to assisting the next customer didn’t fool him. The young spiky-haired man was indeed watching him.
Now it would be interesting to see if the barista could piece together the mystery set before him.
***
A few minutes later he heard someone clear their throat. The familiar voice queried,” You knew my last name was Wright, even though it’s not on my badge. I think I know how…”
Not looking up from his book then magenta suited attorney commented, “do elucidate me.”
“You saw my bag, didn’t you, and that the name in it matched the initials on my sneakers?” Phoenix asked.
Edgeworth glanced up into determined eyes, a shade of inky bluish black. “Your sneakers? Yes I do notice the P and W… but that was merely one clue… as for your bag… it yields no such information…”
“Hold it… you’re teasing me,” Phoenix cut him off, pushing the mop he clutched across the floor near the table. The wet streak mirrored both their faces.
“How? You mentioned it as one of the possibilities…”
“You know it does..” Phoenix said.
“Well I admit P. Wright is written in cursive on the top of your messenger bag, but it could be borrowed from a relative. Could be you have a sister or brother with a name that starts with P, or a parent,” Edgeworth admitted with folded arms as he smirked.
However his bid for more information based on any verbal flub Phoenix could make seemed to fail as Phoenix said, “Possibly. But how is that relevant when a simple explanation may do? If anything your line of questioning leads me to only one conclusion.”
Caught up short Edgeworth found the choice of words odd for a barista. Was it possible this man was more than he seemed? He avoided that question just as if he were representing someone in court, or was a witness used to being coached in answers by their counsel.
“So, what’s your conclusion, Wright?” Edgeworth then asked.
“You’ve been watching me as much as I have been watching you,” said Phoenix with a grin.
The cravat wearing attorney failed to stop the embarrassed heat spreading over his cheeks. “I… verily… ergo…”
Phoenix made a small smile as he regarded the other. His dark inky pools fixed into Edgeworth‘s silver ones. “Gotcha.”
“Wright… don’t you have a job to do?” Edgeworth blurted out, a bit more harshly than he anticipated.
“Mm hm…I do,” Phoenix answered, his face bow set into a smile that seemed all business. “If you’re done I’ll take that out of your way…”
“... should I raise my feet so you can attempt to mop around me?” Edgeworth asked, his eyes softening, or so he hoped. He lifted both his feet, clad in shiny black leather.
The professional stock smile Phoenix has stamped on his face lessened once his eyes regained that playful twinkle Edgeworth was relieved to see. Good. He accepted that rather half assed attempt of an apology that most people would have missed.
“You don’t have to, but thanks,” Phoenix said with a slight lilt, pushing the sponge mop beneath Edgeworth’s raised feet.
Since the tension had eased, Edgeworth struggled to keep the conversation going. He cheated his thrust and observed, “I… noticed that… you seem a bit more nicely dressed under that apron than your usual barista… is there a reason behind that?”
“Uh uh, that’s another mystery for you to unravel, Edgeworth,” Phoenix reprimanded gently with a click of his tongue.
“I assumed you were moving over in an attempt to start conversation,” Edgeworth tried, his grey eyes a bit less guarded.
“I thought you enjoyed connecting the dots. After all you haven’t said much to me before today. Let’s not make things too easy,” Phoenix half teased.
“You sound just like a defense attorney,” Edgeworth snorted, gripping his arm.
For a moment the visor hid Phoenix’s eyes. He let loose a chuckle that was filled with the jaded weight of familiarity. He smirked sadly as he quipped,“... It’s not always easy nowadays to use a law degree. There’s a glut of lawyers… either chasing ambulances or people who want to sue…”
“For hot coffee? Poured in someone’s lap?” Edgeworth finished. “But surely…”
“Baristas are still less plentiful… and we don’t evoke people cringing in fear…” Phoenix added, that same downcast look in his eyes
“Objection,” Edgeworth huffed before he could stop himself. “Baristas use their skills as much as attorneys, even more so.”
“Are you sure?” Phoenix asked, his face schooled into an unreadable expression that resembled a card shark he’d seen on TV. He clutched the mop tightly.
“There is no shame in a barista with a law degree, any more than a lawyer playing poker or a prosecutor who’s representing a bankruptcy firm instead of in criminal law…” Edgeworth interrupted.
“Well played,” Phoenix almost whispered. His grip on the mop loosened. Edgeworth gave him a knowing smile that matched the weight of his own.
“You never lose a chance to find a niche where your skills are of use,” Edgeworth stated, holding up his finished mug.
“Really now?” the spiky haired barista wished to confirm, raising a distinctive eyebrow.
“Indeed. That hot chocolate was far more than adequate. It was most satisfying. Instead of another cup of tea,” Edgeworth continued as he handed over the empty container. Their fingers once more brushed when Phoenix took the cup with one hand while holding the mop in the other.
“Thanks, Edgeworth,” Phoenix said with a shine in those inky dark eyes.
“What for? I merely stated the truth,” Edgeworth huffed, again feeling the heat deep into his face.
Phoenix genuinely laughed without the harsh edge. He said, “The truth is that I’m glad *Kurain Java and Tea* shop won’t be needed a chapter 13 bankruptcy filed any time soon.”
“Affirmative. As long as your business is in proximity to Edgeworth, Shields and Debeste, that is,” Edgeworth finished, relishing the shared smile that developed between them.
Phoenix leaned in so his breath fanned the cravat wearing attorney’s ear, saying, “I know this isn’t the place or time, and I have your card, but would you like to… discuss lawyerly things after I clock out tonight?”
Glancing around to see if they were being observed, Edgeworth moved his head over whilst he raised his book to shield their faces. Perhaps it was the once sad look on Phoenix’s face, or something else that compelled him. Swiftly he shoved his face in the other’s to plant a kiss on that cheek.
“The answer is yes, Wright,” Edgeworth breathed, book hiding the gesture. Phoenix grasped his arm resting on the table. A soft kiss ghosted the attorney's lips before Phoenix pulled away.
“Good. I can’t wait,” Phoenix replied, letting go after Edgeworth lowered his book. As he fixed his tie the magenta suited attorney straightened his cravat. Patiently he finished his book waiting for Phoenix’s shift to end.
There would be more to find out about one another then the few clues gleaned betwixt patron and barista. Phoenix winked and resumed mopping, causing Edgeworth to suck in a breath and hide the tiny smile on his normally stern face.