Chapter 1: Food Fighting

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First-Time Roaster (First-Time Reader)

Roast Refill (Re-Reader)

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It was day eight of resisting the urge to squeeze a singing orange into a pulpy oblivion. Of course, Cora Chun—who was definitely not a murderer...yet—wouldn't act on her violent distaste for the zestful citrus mascot, but there was nothing wrong with thinking about it.

The only problem was when her emotions showed on her face.

"Excuse me," a voice snapped. "Is that a frown I see?"

Cora felt her frown jump into a peppy smile as she tore her eyes from the dancing cartoon orange across the shopping mall food court. "Huh?"

Only then did she notice her forty-something-year-old manager, Darlene, on the other side of the counter, in the middle of taking inventory of the pastries in the display case beside the registers.

"You know what I'm talking about," Darlene said, her eyes returning to her clipboard as she scribbled down numbers. "Remember: no one likes a grumpy bean."

Just then, Angie the Orange's peppy singing echoed from the other side of the food court: "If you wanna be fantastic, take a big sip of Fruitastic!"

Cora felt her smile twitch. "I was just...thinking of ways to promote the new fruit drinks. No one seems interested in trying them."

Darlene didn't reply right away, too focused on counting the blueberry scones.

"Are you suggesting them at the end of every order?" she asked as she wrote.

"Yup!" Whoops, too much energy. "And asking if they want anything to eat."

"Then you don't need to worry about it. Corporate is in charge of marketing; we focus on making drinks." Darlene's eyes darted to her. "And smiling."

If Cora smiled any harder, her face would probably split, but that didn't stop her from trying. "I'm just worried corporate doesn't realize we're a coffee shop trying to sell fruit drinks next to a smoothie place. If we want people to notice us, we're going to have to match..." the animated citrus's song started up again, louder than ever, "that. Their new TV screen has been attracting so many customers. All we have is a banner that falls over every time the air flow gets a little weird."

Darlene didn't bother restraining her sigh as she tapped the display case with her pen. "Fill out a Beannovation with your grand idea and submit it to corporate—on your own time, of course. Who knows? Maybe you'll get a bonus next quarter."

Cora barely prevented a grimace from weighing down her smile. She had lost count of the suggestion forms she submitted, each received with as much enthusiasm as Darlene's monotone. For all she knew, her annoying persistence kept her from getting the promotion she was aiming for.

"But right now, you're on the clock, and if you have time to daydream, you have time to prep for the next rush." Darlene nodded at the two coffee machines on the back counter. "Are those full? Did you check the creamers? Sugar? Napkins?" Lastly, she frowned at Cora, eyeing her up and down. "And stand up straight."

Cora straightened her posture and stood tall—as if her nearly six-foot stature wasn't tall enough.

Darlene held her frown for one more second before leaving Cora with nothing to do but busywork. She already knew the coffee machines were both topped off and warm—no one had stopped by since she brewed them half an hour ago—but she still did a cursory check of them and the rest of Darlene's demands for good measure. With not much else to do, Cora did her best to stuff a few more napkins into the dispenser while her gaze drifted across the food court.

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