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“Ummm…” Jamie continued. “He’s behind that new luxury development. And he’s using the realtor’s office as his base of operations.”
“Oh, good grief,” I muttered, reaching for the milk pitcher to make another latte. My hand slipped, causing the frothy milk to overflow and spread across the counter.
“Zoe!” Jamie exclaimed, helping me clean the mess.
“Oops,” I muttered, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment and irritation. “Still a klutz, huh?”
“Always were,” Jamie chuckled, concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Of course,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just a little spill.”
But inside, Caleb’s return haunted me, stirring up old memories and fears. And now, with him behind a luxury development in Pebble Point, I worried about the future of our community.
“Change can be good,” Jamie reassured me. “Who knows? Maybe this will bring some new opportunities for us.”
“Or maybe more problems,” I countered, unable to hide my worry. “What if people leave, preferring new condos over our cozy community?”
“Let’s cross that bridge when we get there,” Jamie suggested, removing the cleaning cloths. “Let’s focus on you making the best coffee in town.”
“Deal,” I agreed, trying to push my fears aside. But as I returned to work, thoughts of Caleb—and the storm he might bring—lingered.
Our cheerful banter was interrupted as a group of regular customers strolled into Pebble’s Brew. They eyed the counter and me with a blend of concern and curiosity.
“Zoe, everything alright?” asked Mrs. Jacobs, her eyes scanning the remains of the milky mess.
“Absolutely!” I replied, ever the gracious host. “I’m just experimenting with a new free-form latte art technique. As you can see, it still needs some work.” I winked at them, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Ah, well, keep practicing, dear,” she chuckled, sitting with her friends at their usual table.
“Gotta run, Zo—see you later,” said Jamie, leaving me to engage with our customers. My laughter felt a little too bright, my movements a little too sharp, but I couldn’t let my worries show.
“Morning, Zoe!” called out Josh Turner, a local fisherman whose rough hands bore the marks of years spent at sea. The salty breeze seemed to follow him, carrying with it the essence of the ocean. “I’ll have the usual.”
“Coming right up,” I replied, forcing a smile as I prepared his coffee. The rhythmic clinking of the spoon against the ceramic cup echoed the steady beat of my anxious heart. Through the doorway, I could feel Jamie’s watchful gaze on me, his eyes a silent promise to keep an eye on me. It was comforting to know he was there, a pillar of support in the face of the impending storm. Yet, I still couldn’t shake the unease that settled deep within me like an unwelcome guest.
“Hey, Zoe! Heard about Caleb?” one customer chimed in, their tone carrying a mix of curiosity and gossip, fanning the flames of my anxiety.
“Yep, I heard,” I answered, grinding the coffee beans more forcefully than necessary. The scent of freshly ground beans filled the air, masking the tension that lingered. “It’s going to be interesting, that’s for sure.”
“Can’t wait to see what happens,” the customer replied before turning back to his friends, leaving me with a sense of foreboding hanging in the air like the scent of rain before a storm.
“Neither can I,” I muttered under my breath, the uncertainty of the future settling heavily on my shoulders as I wondered what Caleb’s return would truly mean for Pebble Point and my beloved café.
“Extra foam, no whip,” I recited, placing a mocha in front of Mr. Baxter. He barely looked up from his newspaper, but nodded his appreciation.
“Thanks, Zoe. You always know what I like.”
“Only because you’ve been ordering the same thing for five years,” I retorted playfully, shaking my head as I moved on to serve other customers. The banter brought a momentary reprieve, a fleeting escape from the weight of anticipation that hung in the air.
“Zoe, can I get an iced chai latte?” called out Kiera, a high school student who worked at the library part-time. Her wide-eyed innocence and perpetually flushed cheeks hinted at a world of daydreams and teenage crushes.
“Of course,” I replied, whipping it up quickly while my thoughts wandered to Caleb. The memories swirled around my mind like leaves caught in a whirlwind: late-night study sessions, sharing secrets under bleacher seats, and that fateful dance where everything fell apart. I shook my head, forcing my focus back to the present, the clatter of the cafe providing a soundtrack to the storm of emotions brewing within me.
“Here you go, Kiera. Enjoy your afternoon escape,” I said, sliding the drink across the counter. She giggled and returned to her novel, her eyes already glassy with daydreams.
In a rare quiet moment, I slipped away to the back of the café to collect empty mugs and plates, finding solace in the old photographs of my parents that hung on the wall. Their proud faces smiled down at me, a silent reminder of the legacy I’d sworn to uphold. The weight of their expectations settled heavily on my shoulders as I gazed into their eyes.
“Mom, Dad,” I whispered, “I won’t let you down.”
