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“She came back,” Chun hissed. “She likes your bar, Jamie. Get her number. Then a house and kids.”
“No. Not in the realm of possibility.” Jamie came around the counter, leaving Shannon on register. Shannon was very capable and knew her coffee, even if she was a bit of a food snob. She’d been working with Shannon on smothering her overt judgment when she didn’t jibe with a customer’s order. Jamie kept her mainly on mornings since she didn’t know much about wine. “You have to understand that there are leagues. We’re in different ones. That woman”—she hooked a thumb at the door behind her—“is Fifth Avenue. I’m downtown all day.”
“Go downtown on her then. She’ll love it.” Genevieve licked her finger and let it sizzle in the air.
“Genevieve. Seriously?” Jamie blinked. “You cannot.”
“Can. Did. People pay me good money for dialogue like that.”
Jamie pinched the bridge of her nose. “I always forget who I’m dealing with.” She slid herself into a chair simply to recover from the sexy image that had been placed in her head, while her cheeks flamed and her heart thudded. What she needed was a cool-off thought…like the hairbrush when it needed cleaning out. A fly landing in her water. Anything the opposite of sexy. Jamie didn’t even allow her own brain the leniency of those kind of thoughts about Bambi’s Mother. “The point is that even if she does come in here again, I’m not equipped for…her. So we have to put an end to the overt cheerleading, okay? It’s a dead end.”
“We’re here for you, Jamie,” Lisa said. She turned to the group, which now included several customers who knew none of them but seemed invested. “Tone it down, dudes. We’re embarrassing her. She’s all red and twitchy.”
“I’m not twitchy.” She caught herself midtwitch and hugged her arms to her chest. “I’m just stretching. It’s a midmorning stretch. I do it daily.” She stood and committed, doing a pronounced reach for the heavens.
“You’re like my favorite Peloton instructor over there,” Marvin said dryly.
Jamie straightened. “You exercise, Marvin?”
“No,” he said and slid back behind his screen.
The morning marched on with a giant heart around it. At least for everyone else. That part was cool. Love, companionship, and happily ever after on display everywhere. All those smiling faces, customers coming and going with an added spring in their steps. Jamie smiled and tried to imagine someone thinking she was the most special person on the planet.
“She wasn’t so bad,” the voice-over said.
“Gee, thanks,” she responded.
“Talkin’ to yourself again, James,” Leo called to her, midfroth.
“I know. It’s a thing,” she called back over the piercing noise.
“You do you.”
She turned back to her line only to find Clarissa staring back at her from the other side of the register with panicked saucer eyes.
“Uh-oh,” Jamie said. “What now? Is it Mercury today? What’s the word on this side of the galaxy?”
“Worse. I heard a rumor that’s starting to feel real.” She gestured with her head for Jamie to step down the counter, which she did. “Others have heard it, too.”
Jamie frowned. “Okay. What’s the awful rumor?”
“I heard that there’s a Carrington’s headed to South Chelsea,” Clarissa said. “A Carrington’s, James.”
Jamie frowned and checked her line. She only had a minute. A drink was ready next to her at the bar, and she slid it to its owner. “You have a fantastic day and enjoy that mocha frappé.” Back to Clarissa. “The department store?” With every year that went by, another commercialized business invaded their small neighborhood. Starbucks had opened a flagship store just a few years back, for heaven’s sake, which set Jamie on her mission to be the anticorporate coffee bar.
Clarissa shook her head as Jamie tried to examine the domino effect. “And a store like Carrington’s will be massive. It could completely take us out. Our business can’t withstand another financial hit, and a new location would be exactly that. We’re struggling as is.” Clarissa managed her family’s boutique clothing store, De Colores, a few doors down Sixteenth Street. Chelsea real estate was a hot commodity these days. Luckily, the smaller independent stores like Bordeauxnuts and De Colores were on long-term leases that protected their terms. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t always be the case, and theclock was ticking. Jamie’s plan had always been to stay popular and relevant, keeping her chin above water with really good coffee, wine, and atmosphere. So far, it had worked. She was profitable and steady. However, De Colores had fallen on harder times lately, struggling to stay open. Dwindling receipts month after month had her worried for them. The Riveras had been a second family to Jamie for many years, and she’d never seen them with their spirits quite so low.
This was bad news. She worked to tame the crocodiles she now saw circling. “Well, don’t panic.” Even though Jamie was. “Maybe the Carrington’s thing is just what you called it, a rumor.”
Leo slid Clarissa her standard on-the-house latte and jutted his chin. “My buddy heard the same thing. He’s a bike messenger and says word is out there. Get ready for another corporate giant to stamp out this neighborhood’s culture.”
Jamie hid her wince, headed down the counter, and brightened to greet her next customer. “Good morning. Welcome in. What can I make up for you?”
“Americano,” a serious looking man said, refusing to smile. His tie was tied within a quarter inch of his life. Excessive, but his prerogative. She’d name him Tight Tie.
Jamie smiled at him for a good two seconds before the lines around his mouth relaxed a hint.There we go. And that was what her job was all about, making a tiny difference in the course of a day. If her moment of connection, that smile, made him loosen up even a little, it had been well worth it. “You got it. Love the tie.” As if on cue, he grabbed the knot and gave it a small tug, offering a tad bit of relief.Even better.
Off to the side, Clarissa sighed, walking backward toward the café portion of the bar. “What’s next? Is Amazon going to take over The High Line for outdoor storage? Will our precious landmarked buildings be stripped of their status so the corporate bullies can put up the loud signage they prefer? We’re gonna be Times Square by next year.”
