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New York was having one of her gray, heavy mornings. I put some water on to boil and pulled out my favorite bag of Kona coffee.Medium body with low acidity and a rich, smooth flavor.
I opened the bag like a jeweler entering a vault, savoring the rich, earthy aroma that filled the air.
“That smells like heaven’s ass.” Rory grinned.
I laughed. She was coming back to herself.
“Heaven’s ass. Well, I never had high hopes for getting to heaven, but there’s something I can aim for.”
She chuckled and sat down. I knew she’d speak when she was ready.
I carefully measured out the perfect amount and ground the beans, reveling in their satisfying crunch as the blades of the blender ground them to fine dust.
“Noah...”
“Yes, darling?”
She fiddled with the very distracting dress she was wearing.
“I—East Harbor. Are the heads there... are they okay?”
I’d expected this question to come sooner.
“Depends on which head we’re talking about.” I placed the grounds in my French press and poured hot water, watching the coffee bloom. “And I think you are speaking of the head of admin affairs?”
She didn’t reply, which I took as an affirmative.
“No, Rory. He is not okay. He is as deranged as they come. Talk to me.”
As the coffee brewed, I turned my full attention to her.
“He... he just said some really nasty things to me. It made me feel like I was sitting in his office with no clothes on, for fuck’s sake. And it almost made me want to leave this place. But I...”
I went up to her and took both of her hands in mine.
“But you’ve found something worth holding on to over here. A future, a dream, and the kind of romance that makes your heart move. Does that sound about right?”
She chuckled. “Like hitting a nail with a duster and still making it work.”
“Good. Because you’re not going anywhere. But Emory? His time is coming.”
“What do you mean?”
“Give me a minute.”
I pulled out a milk frother and steamed Rory’s milk, adding just a hint of vanilla for a breath of decadent sweetness. I pressed down on the plunger and released the rich, dark liquid into two mugs, adding the frothed milk at the end.
Rory sniffed the air appreciatively as I handed her a cup. “Delicious.” She took it and sipped and lifted her pretty head, complete with a nice mustache of foamy vanilla froth.
I grinned as she licked the froth from her upper lip and sipped on my own drink.
“Rory, how much do you know about Emory Abbot?”
“Not much, except he seems like someone who would set a building on fire and then say, ‘Well, that escalated quickly.’”
I nodded. “Forget heaven’s ass, Emory Abbot is the butt crack of hell. An itch in the most unreachable part, enough to make you go absolutely crazy.”
Rory snorted into her cup of coffee. “Professor, that's disgusting.”
