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Great. Just what I needed, a brawl in Fortnum’s.
Wilcox decided to play peacemaker.
“There’s no need to get excited, boys,” he said. “India, you said you had a problem. You lost your coffee guy and were losing business. I’ve brought you a new one, from Italy, where they invented espresso. This is Antonio and he’s very talented.”
I looked at a man I hadn’t noticed, who was standing behind Goon Gary. He looked like an Italian version of Rosie, except better groomed. Slightly better.
The door opened as I was saying, “I don’t need a coffee guy, thanks. We’re covered.”
Then from behind me came, “Uh-oh, major bad vibe. What’s shakin’ now, woman?”
I turned to the door and saw Tex.
Wonderful, it just kept getting better and better. Now Tex was in the mix.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked Tex.
“Came for coffee.”
Of course.
“How’d you get here?” I went on.
“Drove. I have a car but I usually let the neighbors use it.”
I gaped at him. “You drove with your arm in a sling?”
“Fuck yeah, only got tricky when I had to shift.”
I lifted both of my hands and put my palms to my forehead. It was a “Calgon, take me away” moment.
“Coxy, she doesn’t want your man. You can send him home,” Lee said, his voice calm but scary.
“He’s a present for India. It’s hardly for you to say,” Wilcox returned, also calm but combative.
“Lee says he goes, he fucking goes!” Duke roared, not at all calm.
“I make coffee!” the Italian guy shouted, looking a bit more at ease when someone was shouting.
I was having visions of Goon Gary flying through the front window of my store.
“Everyone makes coffee, twerp. I make coffee. Jeez-us. Why the big deal about coffee?” Tex declared and lumbered to the espresso machine as if the air wasn’t thick enough with tension. He pushed himself behind the counter. “What’ll it be? I’ll makeeverybodycoffee.”
Oh…my…God.
This was not happening.
I saw my life flashing before my eyes, or at least my bank balance.
I turned to Lee and whispered, “Lee, that espresso machine cost thousands of dollars…” I stopped speaking and winced when Tex banged something, loud, “If he breaks it, I’m totally screwed.”
“Come on! What’ll it be? Give me orders. Woman, what’s your order?” Tex was pointing the portafilter at me.
“I am barista. I am the best barista in Milan. I make coffee!” Antonio shouted and dashed behind the counter. “Signorina, I make you espresso.”
Lee was ignoring me so I yelled generally, “Someone stop them!”
“She drinks vanilla lattes,” Duke called.
