“Hi, Mrs. Miller! We needed a midday pick-me-up. This is Graham Hawthorne, my boss over at Daytrip,” I say, gesturing toward Graham as we approach the counter.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, all gentlemanly.
“Yes! It’s nice to have a name for the face,” she grins.
“You’ve met?” I ask, confused.
“Oh, Graham here has been—” She hesitates, her eyes shifting to Graham, then continues, her momentary confusion clearing. “Coming in for coffee often.” When I look at my boss, his face is neutral, leaving me even more confused.
“You told me it was the best in town,” Graham says with a half-hearted shrug, though I don’t miss the slight blush burning over his cheeks. I suppose it could be from the heat, but I’m not sold on that theory.
“It is,” I say. “Mrs. Miller roasts the beans in-house.”
“Really?” he asks, seeming genuinely intrigued. “Where do you do that?”
“The back of the store is a lot bigger than it looks,” Mrs. Miller says, and Graham’s face turns intrigued.
“Would you have the capacity for more?”
“More?”
“More roasting.”
“I, uh…perhaps. I suppose I don’t have them going every day of the week, currently, just a few times as needed.”
“While Daytrip is a beach club, Daydream Resorts would like to become a staple in the community, not just a business getting in the way. I’d be interested in seeing if you’d be willing to sell us beans.”
“Oh, wow, I mean, yeah, they would be…that would be amazing,” Mrs. Miller says, flustered.
“We’re looking to stock our gift shop with high-quality items, and I think featuring local businesses would be the perfect way for us to highlight the rich Seaside Point community. Is there any chance you could get us, say, twenty-five units by next Friday? That would be to start, though I’m sure we’d need regular restocks. I’d have to check if we’ve secured someone, but maybe even serving Seaside Coffee at our restaurant and cafe, if that’s something you’re interested in?”
“Yes. Definitely. That would be… well, that would be fantastic.”
My heart warms at the look of genuine joy and excitement on Mrs. Miller’s face.
“I’ll have June reach out about your pricing this afternoon.” He looks around and tips his chin toward a display of handcrafted mugs. “Do you make the mugs as well?” Mrs. Miller shakes her head.
“No, I wholesaled them from Joanne Reeman. She’s also a local; she might be interested in selling for your gift shop as well, though.”
Graham nods, lifting one of the mugs and inspecting the bottom where Joanne’s logo is stamped.
“Beautiful. I’d love to have as many local businesses featured as possible.” Suddenly, I see the vision, and I absolutely adore it. I wonder if he’s been sitting on this idea or if it just came to him. “June here is always waxing poetic about how much she loves this town, and it makes me want to make sure all of the visitors get to experience it, as well.”
He looks at me, something so sincere on his face, and my chest warms.
“Well, if there’s anyone you want in your corner when you’re opening a business in town, it would be June. She’s the best Seaside Point has to offer.”
“I’m very lucky to have her,” Graham says, stepping back to the register and looking directly at me. There’s a second, a lingering moment where I don’t quite believe he means just as his employee. I’m pulled from my messy, ridiculous thoughts, thankfully, when Mrs. Miller speaks again.
“Your regular, June?”
“Yes, please. I gotta enjoy it while I can,” I say with a sigh. Mrs. Miller gets a coconut syrup every May, and it’s my favorite flavor she carries. Unfortunately, it’s only a temporary one, and by the end of September, it’s long gone.
“Did I not tell you yet?” she asks. “My distributor has announced they’re making that a year-long option, so it won’t be disappearing come September.”
I gasp, pure excitement in the sound. “No way.”
She shrugs, tapping my order into the register as the price appears on the paypad.
