Work Text:
Luke leaned on the counter, sighing. He counted the number of coffee mugs stacked against the wall. Again. “Slow day?” asked Granny Jones, chuckling.
He quickly stood to attention. “Granny!”
She waved him off. “There’s no need to feel guilty for taking a break. You’re a hard worker, Luke.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of your kindness.”
She shook her head. “It’s thanks to you that I am able to keep this place running after all these years.”
“Do you want me to make you anything before you go home, Granny?”
“Not tonight, thank you, dear. I’ll trust you to close up and see you in the morning.”
“I won’t let you down,” he promised.
She smiled at him. “You never do, Luke.”
He watched her lean heavier on her cane as she walked out the door. He frowned. “I should try to convince her to accept an aide.” He worried she was struggling at home to care for herself. He took out a piece of paper and began writing on it.
The door chimed and he looked up, setting the notes aside. His jaw dropped. A lovely young woman around his age had straggled into the café. She seemed worn down and weary. Her peridot eyes met his brown ones. “Hi,” he breathed.
“Hello,” she replied politely, setting her briefcase down. “You aren’t closed yet, are you?”
“No.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her auburn hair curled around her shoulders, frizzing slightly from the humid air outside.
She let out a small sigh of relief. “Good. I need a little bit of caffeine to help me get home.”
“Go ahead and sit down somewhere. I’ll bring you something to drink,” he offered.
She glanced at him, puzzled. “But I haven’t ordered.”
With a cocky grin, he replied, “I’ve been told I have a knack of figuring out what people like to drink. If you don’t mind a surprise, I’ll bring you something hot and caffeinated.”
“Okay,” she said, bemused. She picked up her briefcase and sat at a table by the large window. She rested against the chair, closing her eyes slightly.
“Time to put the money where my mouth is,” Luke muttered, frantically pulling out syrups and creams to mix into her coffee. In exactly five minutes, he had a masterpiece nestling between his hands.
He carried her drink over to her, setting it down with a small flourish. “One brown sugar mocha latte for you,” he said. “And a small treat, on the house.” He placed a plate of vanilla coffee biscuits beside the drink.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly,” she protested.
Luke shrugged. “It’s going to be thrown out anyway, so you might as well. We make them fresh every day.”
“Well, then,” she hesitated, her hand hovering over the plate.
“Go ahead,” he encouraged.
“My diet won’t be ruined because I had extra sugar one day,” she murmured, relenting. She lifted the biscuit to her mouth and took a bite. Her eyes widened in delight. “This is delicious!” she said—or that’s what it sounded like, anyway.
“Why would you need to diet? You’re gorgeous!” he blurted out. Luke covered his mouth, mortified. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” He fled to the counter, red in the face, and began cleaning up the equipment.
She flushed prettily, picking up her coffee and taking a sip. “This is exactly what I wanted,” she marveled quietly.
Luke watched her from the corner of his eye as he cleaned. His chest warmed with pride, seeing her enjoy the drink. “I’m glad I guessed right,” he mumbled, bending down to pick up some trash he’d overlooked earlier.
“Excuse me,” he heard. Startled, he bumped his head on the underside of the counter. He winced, stepping back to rub his head. “I’m sorry!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to surprise you!”
“It’s fine,” he replied, gritting his teeth. “It happens a lot.”
She muffled a giggle. He melted inside at the sound. “Um,” she glanced at his name tag. “Luke.” He liked how his name sounded in her mouth. “I wanted to pay for the drink.”
“Oh, right.” He rattled off the amount and she handed him her card. While he rang up the transaction, she slipped a few bills into the tip jar.
“Thank you,” she said shyly. “I don’t know how, but you figured out what I needed.”
He ducked his head bashfully. “I have a knack for noticing things, that’s all.”
“Really? What did you deduce?” she leaned slightly on the counter, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“You’re a lawyer at a reputable firm—one that isn’t as large as Baldr—and one of your co-workers is a little absent-minded,” he observed. He pointed to a slight ink stain on the end of her sleeve. “She, I think, accidentally set her pen too close during a briefing today and marked your shirt.”
Her jaw dropped. “Yes.”
“You had a hard day today. An important case was thrown out because of some new evidence.”
“How did you—”
“The paper sticking out of your briefcase.”
“You’re good at this,” she said, impressed. “Why are you a barista?”
He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I’m saving to open my own detective agency.”
“Well, I think you’ll be great at it.”
“Thanks,” he said quietly.
“But how did you know what I’d like to drink?”
“Because, uh,” he stopped, realizing he hadn’t gotten her name.
“Rosa,” she supplied, introducing herself. “My name is Rosa.”
“Rosa,” he said softly. “It suits you.” His cheeks pinked and he quickly changed the subject. “I guessed you needed something caffeinated but not so strong that you would be up all night. And sugar would give you the short burst of energy to get you home. As for the flavors…” his voice trailed off while he thought.
With a small laugh, he finished explaining. “I think I chose colors that compliment your outfit.”
She giggled. “There are worse ways of making a mocha latte, I suppose.”
“Yeah.” He stared at her, memorizing her face.
Her phone beeped and she looked down at it. “Is that the time? I ought to go. Thank you again for the coffee. And the biscuits.”
“You’re welcome. Come back anytime,” he said earnestly.
“I will,” she promised.
Luke watched her leave, his heart already pining. He glanced at the clock and his eyebrows raised. “Closing time already?” He hurried to lock the doors. Luke looked out the door wistfully. “Rosa,” he repeated quietly. “If she comes by again, I’ll ask for her number.”
*
Unfortunately, asking Rosa proved impossible. The next time she stopped in for a drink, she had an older man with her. He dressed well and carried himself confidently. His blue eyes sparkled when he spoke to her. Luke’s heart sank.
Rosa dragged her companion to the counter to order. “I’d like what I had last time, Luke,” she said. She turned to the man beside her. “Artem, you should let him bring you a surprise. He’s great at guessing what kind of drink you like.”
Artem raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” He studied Luke, who returned his gaze evenly. “What drink would you recommend?” he finally asked.
“You’re a busy man, and you prefer efficiency and order,” Luke replied. His hands already moved to pour the coffee. “You have elegant tastes. However, your schedule prevents you from enjoying a cup of coffee. I suspect you usually order an Americano.”
“What leads you to that conclusion?”
Luke glanced at Rosa, who grinned at the exchange. “You are her superior at work, based on your dress and manner. You have a monogrammed briefcase, likely a congratulatory gift when you passed the bar. The pen in your pocket is a limited edition model. It was given to celebrate a milestone at work.” He studied Artem’s face, hoping he deduced correctly. “A…senior partnership, right?”
“You told him,” Artem murmured to Rosa.
“I didn’t,” she denied, shaking her head vehemently.
“The reason I think you like an Americano is because you can drink it quickly. It provides an adequate amount of caffeine and tastes less bitter than a straight espresso.” Luke slid the cup of coffee to Artem. “This is what you would choose if you had time to enjoy coffee.”
The lawyer picked up the warm cup and sniffed the aroma appreciatively. “It smells like…hazelnut?”
“Brazilian coffee beans often have nutty undertones,” Luke replied. “I used the pour-over method to draw the flavors out, and added a small dash of nutmeg to enhance the taste.”
Artem took a tentative sip. He savored the taste and set the cup down. “Thank you. This was well-made.”
“He likes it,” Rosa whispered behind her hand. She winked at Luke. His heart fluttered.
“You’re welcome. Would you like anything else with your order?”
“I am satisfied,” Artem replied, paying for his and Rosa’s coffees.
She protested. “I can buy my own.”
“Consider this a thank-you for introducing me to this place.”
“Okay. I’m paying next time,” she insisted.
He smiled indulgently at her. “If you must.”
Luke watched the exchange, picking apart their dynamic. Rosa seemed unaware of her superior’s feelings, but he could not tell if she reciprocated. His stomach churned. He hated the jealousy that bubbled up. Quickly, he turned around to clean out the filter and hide his face.
“Thanks again, Luke,” Rosa said.
He looked over his shoulder with a smile. “Of course. It was nice to see you again.”
She pulled on Artem’s sleeve. “Let’s sit over there and discuss the case.” She pointed to the table by the window.
“I’ll bring your coffees over,” Luke said. He finished making Rosa’s drink, placed both on a tray, and brought them to the table. “Enjoy.”
As much as he wanted to watch Rosa at work, he had other customers to serve and equipment to clean. The afternoon passed quickly. He almost missed Rosa waving good-bye as she and Artem left.
“I didn’t even get to ask for her number,” he mumbled. Luke moped, wiping down their table. “Next time, I’ll be braver,” he promised himself.
*
Rosa came again to the café, this time with a different man. Luke groaned internally. “How many good-looking guys does she know?” he wondered.
She came up to the counter, smiling. “Hi again!”
“Hey,” he replied, mentally berating himself for a stupid response. “Same drink?”
“I’d like to try something different today, if that’s all right.”
“Sure. What will you have?”
Rosa hesitated, looking at the menu. She turned to her friend. “What do you think, Vyn?”
The man adjusted his glasses before perusing the offered drinks. Instead of choosing, he said, “Rosa tells me that you are quite the detective.”
He bristled at the condescending tone. Intentional or not, the implication rankled. “I aim to be, yes,” Luke replied.
“Give me my order, if you please,” he requested. His golden eyes glinted with a sharp intelligence.
“I’m not a mind reader.”
“Surely you can deduce my tastes based on my comportment and dress?”
“Vyn, stop,” Rosa hissed, embarrassed.
He glanced down at her, smiling. “I know he is up to the challenge.”
Crossing his arms, Luke said flatly, “Listen, doctor, I’m not a side show. Either order or let the customers behind you have their turn.”
Vyn smiled cryptically. “Interesting. I never said I was a doctor.”
“You’re being rude, Vyn,” Rosa reprimanded.
“Am I? I apologize.” He looked askance at Luke, who was fighting a scowl. “I shall have a small fruit tart, then.”
Luke moved to the register. “And a lavender tea?” Luke asked absentmindedly, punching in the order.
“That would do nicely, yes.”
He looked up from the screen and asked Rosa, “Have you decided?”
“I’ll have, um, something cold?” She panicked, feeling the tension between Vyn and Luke. “I mean, uh…”
“Is a strawberry smoothie to your liking today?” Luke asked gently, trying to soothe her agitation.
“Yes! Perfect!” She shot him a grateful smile. She handed Luke her card.
Vyn took it from her and replaced it with his own. “Since I behaved in a difficult manner, I shall cover the cost.”
“As long as it’s paid for,” Luke said tersely, trying to smile politely. “Give me a moment to bring you your drinks.”
He heard Rosa scolding the man all the way to her usual table. Luke’s hands automatically began measuring the smoothie ingredients. His mind raced with a myriad of scenarios, most of which involved violence. Something about her friend incited a desire to punch him in the face. Luke shook the thoughts away, trying to focus.
Pulling the tea tin off the shelf, Luke measured the loose leaf into the strainer. He poured the hot water and set the timer, moving to plate the tart while he waited for the tea to steep. He finished the smoothie, set sweetener options on the tray for Vyn’s tea, removed the leaves from the cup, and added the tart.
Luke brought the loaded tray to her table. “Here’s your order,” he said to Rosa with a smile. He laid an extra plate of fruit tart in front of her. “It’s on me, okay?” he whispered.
“Thank you,” she replied, pink rising in her cheeks.
He picked up the now-empty tray and started to return to the counter.
“One moment please,” requested Vyn. Luke paused, waiting to hear what the other man wanted. “You accurately deduced my profession and my preferred beverage.”
“Do you have a question for me?” Luke asked impatiently. “I have work to do.”
“Yes. Why are you wasting your talents working at a café?
“I don’t think of it that way,” he said, brushing the question off. He gave the two a slight bow. “Have a lovely afternoon.”
He kept himself busy restocking napkins. Whenever he looked Rosa’s way, he met Vyn’s piercing gaze. Luke struggled to keep a service-friendly smile on his face as his heart sank deeper. “He’s probably her boyfriend,” he thought sadly. “Because someone as kind and pretty as her wouldn’t be single.”
His gloomy thoughts preoccupied him the rest of the evening. He heard Rosa bade him good-bye, and he lifted a hand in a half-hearted wave, unwilling to face her or see Vyn’s smug smile. While cleaning the café after closing, Luke crumpled the paper he’d written his number on and threw it in the trash.
*
Luke kept busy the next week, trying to nurse his broken heart. He helped Granny hire two more employees, which freed him up to begin looking for a place to rent for his detective agency. So far, the vacant offices disappointed him. No one had what he needed.
Dejected, he went into work the next day. His eyes widened in surprise when Rosa stepped through the door. “Hello,” she chirped. “I haven’t seen you the last few times I’ve come.”
“You stopped by?”
“Yes. But there were new people here, and they didn’t make the coffee as good as you.”
“Oh,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. They’re still learning, right?”
“Um, yeah. Probably.” For some reason, Luke couldn’t stop the wooden responses from leaving his mouth.
“I’m waiting for my friend to arrive before I order,” she explained, shifting from foot to foot. “And I wanted to apologize for Vyn last time. He doesn’t like it when he’s not the smartest in the room.”
“You don’t need to apologize for him,” Luke replied. “I shouldn’t have let him get to me. It wasn’t professional.”
“Still,” she protested. “That doesn’t give him license to be rude.”
Luke shrugged. “Honestly, I’ve dealt with worse customers.”
She frowned. “People have no right to be mean like that.”
He smiled. “I appreciate your indignation on my behalf.”
“A-anyway,” she stammered, “I think Vyn also gave you the wrong impression of me. We’re not together.”
“You’re not?” His eyes lit up, and hope blossomed anew.
“No. I’ve actually been meaning to—”
The door opened and an expensively dressed young man entered. He slung an arm around Rosa. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for long, babe.”
She scowled at him. “Marius! How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that!”
Luke sighed. “And there it is,” he grumbled inwardly. “Why do I keep doing this to myself?”
The dark-haired guy stuck his hand out. “I’m Marius.”
Luke took his hand, giving it a firm shake. “Luke.”
“Rosa has told me all about this place,” he said cheekily.
She elbowed him. “Marius!” she hissed.
“In fact, she tells me the coffee here is to die for.” He winked at Luke, who gazed evenly back.
“What would you like?” Luke asked, moving to take his order.
Marius grinned. “I’d like a mochaccino, with a shot of vanilla, two shots of hazelnut, four shots of caramel, a dash of cinnamon, a little nutmeg, several pumps of chocolate syrup, and whipped cream on top, please.”
“Marius. Von. Hagen,” Rosa whispered harshly. “Stop embarrassing me!”
Luke nodded. “Just to make sure I heard you correctly, you want “a mochaccino, with a shot of vanilla, two shots of hazelnut, four shots of caramel, a dash of cinnamon, a little nutmeg, several pumps of chocolate syrup, and whipped cream on top, please,”” he parroted.
Marius raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Yes. That’s right.”
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll have it right out.”
“Oh, and can you make it to-go? Rosa and I have a date.”
“We do not,” she squeaked. “Stop calling it that!” Flustered, she turned to Luke and blurted, “I just want something that tastes like me to-go!”
The tips of Luke’s ears reddened and he coughed. “I’ll do my best.”
“Great, thanks!” She spun and fled to the bathroom.
Marius laughed and paid for the drinks. “While she’s busy screaming in the bathroom, I’ll take care of the bill.”
“Sure.”
While Luke worked on Marius’s order, he heard the other man lean on the counter. “You know,” Marius said quietly, “she’s been coming here because she has a crush on you.”
Luke’s hands stilled. “Really?”
“She’s been dragging all her friends here to approve of you before she makes a move. And we all agree that you seem like a nice guy, even if we’d rather she date one of us. But if you’re not interested in her, let me know so that I can heal her broken heart.”
Luke turned around and handed Marius his drink. “I do, in fact, like her. And it’s been confusing watching her come here with three different men who all seem like they’re her boyfriend. If what you say is true, then I’ll take my chances. But if you’re saying this just to screw with me, you’ll wish you hadn’t.”
“What are you going to do to me?” Marius asked teasingly. “Egg my car?”
“Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of hacking the Big Data Lab and draining all of your accounts, Mr. von Hagen,” Luke replied, a wolfish grin on his face. “Don’t test me.”
“Who are you?”
“Just a barista,” he said simply.
“Sure,” Marius said sarcastically.
Rosa returned to the counter, still flushed with embarrassment. “Is my drink ready?”
“Give me a moment,” Luke replied, turning around. He quickly made her a basic brown sugar frappuccino with caramel syrup on top. He picked up the permanent marker and wrote her name on the disposable cup. Underneath, he wrote his phone number.
“Here you go,” he said, smiling. “I hope this is what you wanted.”
She took the cup from him, her hands trembling slightly. “Thank you,” she said. Rosa pulled a folded paper from her pocket, fumbling to put it on the counter. “Here.”
Luke picked it up and opened it. A nine-digit string of numbers was written inside, along with her name. He beamed. “Can I call you tonight?” he asked.
Shyly, she nodded.