Cafe Latte

Chapter Seven

Danny and Josselin's meeting ran for hours, and Josselin stayed hours late to make up for it to get his own work done. Meara left him alone -- he knew he'd be annoyed if Josselin bothered him while he was trying to work -- but the little interactions still made his day. Josselin ordering a sandwich, a second drink, a third. Only the first was a zombie, thankfully. Meara would hate to have to call an ambulance. Josselin's little smiles and the way his wrist flashed under the light when he dropped a single in the tip jar and the hitch of his voice when he said 'thank you,' like he wanted to say something else, although what, Meara had no idea. The way Josselin caught his hand and kissed his palm when Meara gave back the other man's change.

By the time Josselin left at 4:00, Meara was head over heels. He hadn't had many partners in the past, and none of them had lasted long, but he couldn't remember ever feeling something like this for any of them so fast.

A nagging little voice he'd been able to quell until then murmured, Just wait until he gets bored with you.

Meara's gaze fell to his feet and darted around the floor. He should sweep.

He will, you know. Eventually. Like they all did.

Meara huffed softly in frustration, but didn't say anything. There were customers in the shop, and he didn't want to scare them off muttering to himself. He pushed through to the back and snatched the broom and dustpan from their corner. Danny looked up from his laptop and asked, "Are you --?"

But Meara stormed back out as Danny murmured, "Okay."

Meara forced his shoulders and face to relax as he swept, so he didn't seem off-putting in case somebody came in. Akasha had already picked up Roxie and Max, and a young woman with two small children and a few friends were huddled in the corner around one of the few round tables playing a game of some kind. Meara didn't try to rush them out -- they worked hard for this to be a family friendly place, a safe place where people could come after school or work and just relax for a while. The only other people here was a middle aged couple on the couch, and they didn't seem bothered, either, deep in conversation, giggling and flirting like teenagers. Meara smiled. Were they on a date? Were they married for years and just kept the spirit of their love young? Meara didn't know, but either way, it gave him hope for himself and Josselin.

He finished sweeping and tucked the broom and dustpan behind the door.

The two groups and a new one of a handful of college students were still there when they closed, and Meara actually had to make an announcement:

"Hey, everyone," he called over the chatter. "We close in about ten minutes, so please gather up and finish what you're doing. Thanks."

Two of the three college students rushed up to the register.

"Have you shut down your espresso machine?" one of them asked, almost panicked.

"Not until we lock the doors." Meara smiled at her clear relief.

"Oh, thank god," she sighed. Her friend nudged her and she laughed. "Sorry for the misplaced panic. My coffee maker broke and I haven't been able to get a new one yet, and I have to be up late to get some projects done."

"May I recommend the zombie?" Meara asked. "It's not one of our most popular, but it's my favorite: two cups of coffee, six shots of espresso, milk, and any flavor you like. If you get it hot, it comes with foam."

"That sounds perfect," she grinned. Her friend rolled his eyes, but he was smiling and getting out his wallet in preparation for his own coffee order.

They both ordered zombies, the woman cold, the man hot. Most people got them to sit in, and Meara had to split both drinks between two cups each.

"Sorry," he said a little sheepishly. "Nobody's ever gotten one to go before. I had to split it."

The woman laughed. "We can manage," she said. "If anything else, we'll make our friends carry some, too."

The man saluted with one of his cups and went back to his table to gather up his things.

Once Meara had locked the door, he ducked into the back and said, "Danny, can I get a hand cleaning up?"

Danny looked up from his work. He was chewing on a straw, since neither of them approved of gum in the kitchen.

"Yeah," he said through closed teeth, so his straw wouldn't fall. "Just let me save this stuff really quick."

Danny met Meara back in the front of house with the broom while Meara shut down the espresso machine.

"So!" Danny said. Meara looked up. "I haven't closed out the register yet, but it seemed like we had more foot traffic today?"

"Yeah," Meara grinned. "It was awesome. I got to talk to other people than myself for a change."

Danny laughed as he finished up his sweeping. There hadn't been much. Meara had swept most of it up earlier, an the customers had been exceptionally clean, especially for college kids. He dumped the contents of the dustpan in the trash and punched in his manager code to start closing out the register.

"How did things go in your meeting with Josselin?"

"Just a minute." Danny was shuffling bills between his hands. "Let me finish counting."

Meara nodded and went back to the espresso machine. He glanced over to Josselin's usual table, where of course he wasn't, because he'd left two hours ago and they were closed. But his near-constant presence was comforting, now that they knew where they stood and they weren't playing their awkward flirting game anymore. It was one of the few things he could count on in these times of financial insecurity.

Danny stuffed the bills in the bank pouch and slipped it in his laptop case to drop off on his way home. He closed the register with a knock of his hip and turned back to Meara.

"So, you were saying?"

"Your meeting with Josselin. How did it go?"

"Good!" Danny grinned. "He gave me the direct numbers to the advertising managers for a couple of the publications I was looking at. He even brought in some old issues of some of them so I could look them over and make sure they're the kind of thing we want to advertise in. A couple look really promising. I just want to call them and see what their sales numbers look like to make sure we're actually reaching people."

"I'll trust you to take care of it," Meara said. He stretched his arms over his head and sighed softly when his back popped. Danny handed him the plastic wrap and Meara went to wrapping up the baked goods.

They went through the rest of their evening routine -- wrapping, storing, washing, cleaning -- mostly talking about how well the day had gone, comparatively. The business woman who bought the cinnamon rolls had really hiked their numbers, and while Meara wasn't expecting her to have much clout with her Instagram or twitter accounts, he could still hope it would at least bring in her friends.

They would just have to wait and see.