“So much fun,” he repeats, deadpan.
I hold out my hand to shake on our obviously very official business deal. “Thanks for agreeing to it, coffee buddy.”
His gaze dips down to my hand, and he stifles another would-be laugh. I half expect him to walk away from my silliness, but he takes my hand in his. His hand is big and warm, the perfect mix of strong and soft.
On a scale from one to ten, how bad is it that tingles rush up my arm while I’m shaking my boss’s hand? I’m guessing at least a nine. But I smile even wider and pump his hand a few times for good measure.
“Coffee buddy,” he echoes.
2
reed
Coffee buddy.
It’s pathetic, really. If Troy had asked me to do the coffee cart, I wouldn’t have thought twice about rejecting his plan and moving on with my day. I would already be in my Bronco on my way out to my cabin for the evening, all concert series and coffee shop spin-off concepts forgotten.
But Rose Rainey asks me to do something—anything—and I’m bound to say yes eventually. I never know if it’s because she had a genuinely good idea or if I’m just blinded by her big, blue eyes.
Who am I kidding? It’s always both.
Correction:I’mpathetic.
“You know,” she says as she wipes down the front counter, “if your concert plans go well, this could open up a whole world of opportunities for Perk Me Up.”
“Oh, so it’s my plan now?” I’m still standing behind the counter, doing nothing. I should be in the office at the very least, double checking supply orders. But here I am. For reasons I try not to look at too closely.
“Well.” She flashes a teasing smile that makes my gut twist. “It’s your plan if it’s a success. If in the extremely unlikely,infinitesimally remote event it doesn’t work out, I will take full responsibility.”
“You’re really falling on your sword over there.”
“But it’s obviously going to be a crazy success.”
“Mmm.” I go on watching her. That’s another thing about Rose. My staring never bothers her. Not that I’m trying to, but my silence usually makes people flinch. If anything, it makes her dig in her heels and shine even brighter. “You’re dying to tell me about the opportunities, aren’t you?”
Rose beams at me.Beams.
When I first interviewed her for the job, I assumed her friendliness was an act. A customer service routine she turned off when nobody was looking. Troy’s friendly, too, but even he hides behind fake smiles sometimes. But I’ve never seen an expression on Rose I didn’t think was genuine.
And for the record, I’ve watched her a lot.
“We could do a coffee cart at the farmer’s market.” She bounces on the balls of her feet like she’s itching to get started. “Christmas Festival. Fall Festival—all the festivals, really.”
“The shop’s already open for those.”
“The Christmas Festival doesn’t overlap with our hours. But you’re right about the rest.” She takes approximately three seconds to shake off my pessimism. “If it’s a big success, we’ll just have to hire more people for the coffee cart.”
This woman. Nothing gets her down. Not the most entitled tourist, not somebody with an axe to grind, not even when one of the machines breaks and I have to tinker with the insides, holding up lines and disappointing customers. She’s always got a smile, like she carries around her own sunshine.
“You sure are eager to spend the shop’s money,” I tell her.
She just grins. “If it’s a big success, we’ll have plenty to spare.”
Two small groups of people walk in at the same time, interrupting her grand plans. Rose greets them with the same warmth she gives everyone, like they’re the most important people in herworld. I don’t think I truly knew what “welcoming someone in” meant until I met her.
Me? Most of the time, I acknowledge our customers just as much as I have to.
When I worked as a seasonal assistant park ranger, I didn’t have to play nice with people too often. I maintained trails, repaired park facilities and left the visitor interactions to the experts. Here, I have to muster up a nod, at least. If I’m in an especially chipper mood, I say “Hello.”
