More Poison in Your Coffee?

Chapter 1

         If there's one thing my best friend Henry is always on my case about, it's my lack of enthusiasm when dealing with people. It's a really poor trait when you're in business, because you have to deal with irate, crybaby customers all the time. I probably should have thought of that before I had the dumb idea of opening my cozy little cafe, in the heart of Buerenville Florida, surrounded by people who are namely irate, crybabies.

         But old Henry would have been proud of me today, because I woke actually excited about going to work. A skip in my step and a smile on my face, I walked into Taste Teas eager about the prospects to come. In other words I, Evelyn Harper entrepreneur and perpetual pessimist, was going to make a shit ton of money. 

           That of course, should have been my first clue that today was going to suck.

        I walked in, setting loose a hymn of wind chimes, and proceeded toward my office to store my things. The place was a charming little shop nestled between a yoga studio and a tattoo parlor. I'd decorated it with funky mismatch couches and small intimate round tables that gave off a "come here and chill" vibe. It was in the heart of the North side, a trendy area in the city that was home to dance studio's, Asian specialty supermarkets, and privately owned eclectic clothing shops that younger people liked to visit. And when all those hipsters got thirsty, they came into my beverage shop to chill and have a coffee or smoothie and discuss boring shit like politics and saving endangered things.

        After storing my purse in my supply closet sized office, I walked out in time to see Jackson carrying a large sack of flour from the storage room.

        "Hey cuz." He smiled down at me, adjusting the flour on one large shoulder. "You look downright excited today. That's a change."

        "I'm always happy when money's involved." Jackson and I were cousins. His mother had asked me to give him a job after he finished his stint upstate in prison. Jail was the best thing that ever happened to him as far as I'm concerned. He was so much more pleasant when he wasn't strung-out on drugs or trying to sweet talk money out of you. I inhaled. "Something smells good. What did you make?"

        "Just scones and a crumb cake. Your fancy reporter friends should love it. I was thinking about throwing another cake in the oven if I've got time." Hence the flour.

        "Yeah, they won't be in til one, knock yourself out.vYou finished the ice box cake, right?"

        "Yeah, it's been chilling in the fridge all night." I'd had Jackson make a special cake for our guests to take home as a parting gift from Taste Teas. I left him to his baking and walked back out front.

        Pasha, my barista, was busy trying to stab a cardboard box to death. Or maybe she was just trying to open it, I don't know. Either way, by the force she was putting into the box cutter I could tell she was mad about something.

        "God there has to be five hundred books in here. All hardback! Did you know hardback books kill one million trees a year? A year, Evie!" She'd finally gotten the box open.

        "Someone should stop them. Those hard backed bastards can't get away with murder!" She gave me a look that I think was supposed to make me feel bad for teasing the trees, but hey, they're the ones who can't take a joke.

        "Do you know how many children we could feed in third world countries with one million dollars? Like, a lot. This guy would be a much cooler dude if he chose to publish his crappy book virally. Come on people, we have to save the goddamn trees!" I saw Jackson roll his eyes from behind the counter. He'd had a hard life and nobody'd ever helped him out so crazy hippie chicks and their righteous indignation did nothing for him. Pasha was always rallying for some cause or another anyway, so mostly we ignored her.