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“Is that like, a show?”
Ainsley gasps. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
I shrug. “Sorry. Never heard of it.”
“X-O-X-O ring a bell?”
“Nope.” I pop the P at the end.
“Holy crap. As soon as I get back from Portland, we are bingeing the shit out of it. It totally changed the television landscape of teenage dramas. It’s a classic.” She sighs. “I can’t believe I’m not going to see you for a whole week.”
Ainsley shifts her car into park and reaches over to hug me. She insisted on driving me to work this afternoon since she and Reed are flying to his sister’s tonight for Christmas.
I give her one last squeeze before pulling back. “I know. It’s crazy to me that it’s already winter break, and our trip to Disney is almost here.”
“Belle still has no clue where you’re taking her, huh?”
“None.” I shake my head.
“You promise you’ll take lots of pictures and send them to me?”
“Promise.” I open the car door and grab my purse off the floor. “Thanks again for the ride.”
“Of course. Have a good shift.”
“Text me to let me know you landed safely.”
Ainsley nods. “Okay. Bye, Jazz.”
I shut the door and wave to her as she pulls away from the curb. When I step inside my work, I immediately go to the backroom to stash my purse and grab my black barista apron. This is only my second week, but I absolutely love working here. My boss and co-workers are amiable, and making coffee is surprisingly fun. We’re allowed to experiment with the different syrups and sauces, trying to invent new specials whenever we have some downtime. I smile when I see today’s special of the day on the chalkboard.
Candied Peppermint Tuxedo Mocha
That would be the drink I came up with the other day: Two pumps of white and dark chocolate sauce and one pump of peppermint syrup, topped with whipped cream and crushed peppermint candies. It’s not only delicious, but the combined flavors make a perfect holiday drink. Considering we’re only a couple of days away from Christmas, it’s fitting.
“Hey, Jazz.”
I smile. “Hey, Java. Has it been busy?”
Yes, that’s her real name. I thought she was joking when she first introduced herself. Only in Los Angeles, I swear. There’s also a Racer, Maple, and Denim that work here. Oh, and Alley.
Java shakes her head. “Not too bad. I think people are still out there shopping.”
“Is it just the two of us?”
“Yeah.” She nods. “According to Misha, the last two weeks of December are typically the slowest of the year because so many people around here leave town. Racer was supposed to be on shift for another hour, but he left a little early. We’re never supposed to be here alone, so if anyone asks, he wasn’t feeling well.”
“What’s the real reason?”
Java rolls her eyes. “He had to bathe his ferret and clean the cage before his girlfriend came over. Race lives in like a four-hundred-square-foot studio, so space is tight, and as you can probably imagine, bad smells spread pretty easily. Apparently, she refuses to give him head if the rodent stinks, so Lil Wayne—the ferret, not the rapper—is getting a bath. Can’t say I blame her. The last time he and I hooked up, I almost passed out from holding my breath too long because I was trying not to smell the thing. Those little guys are cute as hell, but they start to reek pretty fast.”
“Wow... that’s more information than I ever needed.” I laugh.
“Sorry.” She blushes. “Sometimes, I forget to censor.”
My lips twitch. “It’s all good. Your honesty is refreshing.”
The bell above the door dings as a small group of twenty-somethings walks in.
