Page 29 of Amber: Deja Brew

Chapter 11

Amber

Turns out that getting eleven happy customers is pretty hard when we don’t have any customers to begin with.

We all move into place and spend the next half hour shooting glances at the front door. Juli and I from behind the counter, Chase over his laptop screen, and Wes around the mop he’s using to turn our cafe from clean to sparkling. But no matter how hard we stare, we can’t seem to will any customers into the cafe.

“What do we do now?” I groan and bury my face in my hands.

“Send someone to fix Minerva’s door?” Chase teases. I know he’s trying to lighten the mood, which kind of works, but he’s also right.

“I totally forgot about her door.” I sigh. “Do you think anyone broke in?”

“A few people stopped to look, but no one tried to go inside,” Wes says. At our surprised looks, he adds, “I’ve been keeping an eye on the place through the window. And I called Zoe to come fix the door while you were still across the street.”

“Thanks for thinking of it, Wes.” I smile warmly at my bear shifter. “You’ve been a life-saver today.”

“I’m always here for you, Ambear.” Wes smiles back.

For a second, it feels like it’s just the two of us in the cafe, lost in each other’s eyes. Then Chase coughs, reminding me we’re not alone.

“I came up with some ideas to get in more customers,” he says. “We could change your sign out front to say we’re having a sale. Maybe 50% off all drinks for the next hour?”

Which isn’t a bad idea if it didn’t mean changing our Pumpkin Spice Latte sign.

“It’s up to you, Bean,” Julian says, even as I start to shake my head. “I won’t be hurt if you—”

“No!” I cry. “We’re not ruining that sign! First of all, you worked way too hard on it. Plus, it’s gorgeous and I love it, and I’m never getting rid of it.”

Julian grins, but hurt flits across Chase’s face before he quickly hides it.

“I didn’t realize it meant that much to you,” the bunny shifter says softly, not quite meeting my eye.

“I’m sorry, Chase. I know you didn’t. It’s just that the sign is just like the one at the academy cafe. It’s where we came up with our plans for Jewels Cafe. It’s the whole reason we opened this place.”

“I understand, sweetheart,” Chase says, though he still looks hurt.

“Maybe Chase and I can stand outside and tell people there’s a sale?” Wes suggests. “We could post the discount coupon on Screech for customers to use—I’ve done that before for the Cleanly Den and it brought in tons of business.”

“That’s a great idea, Wes,” I grin, then add, “you too, Chase.”

At my words, my bunny shifter seems to relax. He puts his laptop in the back room, while Wes puts away the mop, and then the two of them head outside.

An hour later, the cafe is packed. There’s a lineup of customers stretching almost to the door. They’ve all got the Screech app loaded and are taking advantage of the discount by grabbing to-go drinks for family and friends. We remind them all to leave us reviews, and they all nod and agree, but when I refresh Screech, we’re only up four.

“At least they’re all five stars,” Julian says as he glances over my shoulder at my phone screen. “And we only have seven more to go. Don’t worry, Bean. We got this.”

If we don’t go bankrupt first... I sigh and go back to assembling the two trays of Mood Teas for a little old lady. She’s turned her walker into a makeshift chair and is sitting in front of the cash register, completely engrossed in counting out small change. She pulls out a bill from her purse, then a coin, then another bill. Each time, she counts up the total: $2.50, $2.75, $2.80.

The middle-age man in line behind her groans in frustration, and I can totally sympathize with how he feels.

“Be glad you’re not my age, young man,” the old lady tells him. She starts to turn back to her purse, then changes her mind and looks up at the man. “And why haven’t I seen you at the library, huh?”

“I don’t use the library?” the man says nervously, though it sounds far less like a statement and more of a question.

“Well, you should. You do read, don’t you?”

“Oh, erm... yes?” he glances at the door, like he might make a run for it.