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“You can call me Laney.”

Her smile widens. “Laney, it is.”

I like her. Which is probably premature considering she’s known me for approximately forty-five seconds, but I’ve made worse decisions based on less.

She turns to finish making my drink, moving behind the counter like she owns the place. Maybe she does.

“You work here every day?” I ask.

“Most of them. I manage the bar too.”

“So, you’re responsible for coffee and alcohol?”

“I know. It’s a lot of power.” She chuckles.

“I’m starting to understand why Angela sent me here.”

Avery glances over her shoulder. “Angela sends me all the good ones.”

“I’ve only known her for a couple of days.” I laugh.

“Well, she’s a pretty good judge of character.” She pours espresso over ice. “Let’s see how you react to the butterscotch.”

A minute later, she slides the drink across the counter. “Moment of truth.”

I take a sip. Cold espresso and brown sugar hit first, followed by a velvety rush of butterscotch with just enough salt to keep it from being too sweet.”

I close my eyes. “Oh. My. God.”

“Told you.”

“Avery, you might have just changed my life.”

“I get that a lot.”

“I’m serious. You’re my new best friend.”

“That’s what they all say.” She laughs and moves over to help a new stream of customers.

I carry my coffee and cheese danish to a small table near the window. My phone buzzes as soon as I sit down.

Mom: How’s your first day???

Three question marks.

Of course.

I snap a picture of the shelves and coffee bar.

Me: Midnight Press is heaven.

Mom: You said the same about Wilder House.

Me: Well... this one has pastries.

Another message drops in before she can answer.

Declan: Survive the morning?