“Gross,” Bea mouthed, not wanting to offend the people sitting around her, who were sipping the same drink with quiet satisfaction.
“You going to chuck it out?” he asked.
Chuck it out? She’d paid nine bucks for it. What did he think she was, a millionaire?
She stared at the cup. She wasn’t going to force herself to drink it as it was. Bea returned to the counter.
“Can you add condensed milk, please?” she asked, sliding the cup forward.
The barista hesitated. “That’ll make it sweet.”
“Good.”
He lowered his voice, as though they were conspiring. “You’re not meant to make it sweet.”
She smiled faintly and whispered back, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
The milk streamed in, transforming the drink inch by inch. Bea watched it with more focus than strictly necessary.
Then, almost as an afterthought, “Do you have orange zest?”
He gave her a strange look. Then reached under the counter and handed her a tiny spoon half covered in bright citrus curls.
“Thanks.”
She stirred as she walked back to her table, then took another sip. The bitterness didn’t vanish, but it had stopped dominating. The spice had somewhere to go, softened by milky sweetness, and the orange added a fresh snap.
“Drinkable,” she murmured.
She pulled up the Notes app on her phone.
Speculaas cold brew + condensed milk and orange zest (my additions)
Turns out it’s perfectly fine. You just have to fix it first.
Channing checked his watch. “We should go. Ready?”
Bea lifted her cup. “Almost.”
Incoming video call: Naomi, Georgina, Isabel
Bea wedged her phone against the dish rack and swiped.
The sink was full. Plates were stacked at precarious angles, cutlery floating in cloudy water. Housemate dinner night had been delicious, with a blatant disregard for the aftermath.
Naomi’s face appeared first. Then the screen split into thirds, and Georgina and Isabel each took a box.
No one spoke for a beat.
Bea scraped a plate. Rinsed. Set it down.
Georgie cracked first. “Bey, we owe you an apology.”
Her hands paused midair, but she didn’t look up. “For what?”
“For how we handled everything.”
Bea picked up a fork. “How did you handle it?”
