His First Valentine

01 | iced coffee

Zolina 'Zo' Smith
[ wed, oct 26th 4:20 PM ]
Two Sugars - Café

"Zo, can you make another chai latte?"

"'Zo, can you make another chai latte?'" Zolina mocked Mr. Sanders under her breath while walking over to the espresso machines.

Her shift was over 20 minutes ago, but Ashley was late to relieve her from her station.

Again.

It became obvious that they were taking advantage of her because she was the new girl, but this was the only job willing to hire her on the spot.

After exhausting her savings, the artwork commissions and open mic night winnings were barley enough to support her painter's habit.

Zolina knew that she was talented; the amount of money she received for her work proved it. But the lack of connections she had in the industry made it difficult for her to get her pieces seen.

Once the milk was done steaming, Zolina perfected her signature waves of latte art and wiped the sides of the mug clean of any overflowing foam.

She handed it over the bar to the waiting customer, and was approached by Trinity with another set of orders.

"Irish coffee for Sue, iced coffee for Ace, iced mocha for Mike," she rambled. "Ashley's dumbass still not here?"

Zolina shook her head no, "Third time this week."

"Oh, we know she's fucking Sanders."

Trinity was a close friend of Zolina's, who helped her get the job at Two Sugars.

She made sure to debrief Zolina on the creepy boss, inexperienced workers and inconsiderate customers, ensuring that she knew exactly what she was getting herself into.

Zolina took out two plastic cups and one paper, scribbling the names and drink details on the side in permanent marker. She quickly made the hot drink first, sliding it onto the counter before calling out for Sue.

When she completed the iced drinks and still saw no sign of Ashley, she sighed frustratedly and looked to Trinity for the next round of orders.

"Ay."

She was so laser focused on spelling out 'Magdalena' for her next cup, that she didn't hear the deep voice behind her.

"Yo," the voice said louder. "This ain't my order."

When she turned around, she saw a man hovering over the counter with a frosty drink in front of him.

Attractive wasn't a good enough word to describe him. This man was beyond fine.

He was dressed in a hoodie and jeans, with a durag tied neatly down against a short cut. Tattoos were visible across his neck and both hands. His thick lips were surrounded by a full, short beard.