Rescue the Barista Read online

  * * *

  I ask her, “Business okay?”

  * * *

  She half turns. “Great, thanks. Yours?”

  * * *

  Can’t say I was expecting that. People show me a little bit more respect around here. People don’t ask me about my business. Not like that.

  * * *

  “I just will say, my trade is mostly finance. Investment, loans. You need any help like that, I can be your guy. Cash flow, new business – I know what it’s like.”

  * * *

  She cocks an eyebrow. “So, you’re Mr business philanthropy, is that right? Angelo the angel for small local businesses?”

  * * *

  I down the espresso “That’s good. ‘Angelo the angel.’ Yeah. that’s me.” I’m still waiting for a flicker of something from her eyes, but I’m not getting it. Zip. Nada. “Anyway, just so you know. You need anything, call me. Alright?”

  * * *

  I pull a card from my wallet. Put it on the counter. She picks it up, looks at it. Looks at me. All it says on the card is my name and a cell phone number.

  * * *

  “I’ll keep it in mind, Mr Franconi.”

  Chapter 7

  Jamie

  All the young moms watched him. The older ones, too. As he strode across the room like the world belonged to him, every female straightened, touched their hair or their neck. One mom, a pretty strawberry blonde with pink streaks, stares with her mouth gaping open and her eyes wide the whole time he’s here. Every one of them, their thighs fall wider.

  * * *

  When he leaves I sigh to see him go, watch the door close behind him. His ass is worth watching. Gazing after him through the windows, I follow him as he strides off down the street. Then a sigh rips out of my throat, so deep and long everybody in the place hears it and turns. The strawberry blonde looks at me and nods, sighing herself.

  Massimo, my coffee supplier, is a big, jolly guy. I’m always happy to see him, but he isn’t due until next week. I make him a macchiato, just how he likes it.

  * * *

  “I drop by to let you know, this blend of coffee, it’s going real good.”

  * * *

  “That’s great, Massimo.” Something’s wrong. I can feel it.

  * * *

  “Yeah. But that means, now we are having to think hard about how we supply. Who we’re selling to, you know? Look, this isn’t coming from me, okay? But this is how it’s going to be.” I feel a cold stone in my throat and it drops down to my gut.

  * * *

  “What, Massimo?”

  * * *

  “We got to get a payout in advance for the coffee.”

  * * *

  “You mean, you want to pay for this week’s coffee and next week’s at the same time?”

  * * *

  “Kind of. But quarterly.”

  * * *

  “What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

  * * *

  “You go to pay for the next three months.”

  * * *

  “Three… wait, three months? That’s going to be hard.”

  * * *

  “You gotta do it, Jamie, else I can’t give you this week’s coffee.”

  * * *

  “You’re kidding. You’re going to cut me off?”

  * * *

  Massimo shakes his head, slowly. “I’m telling you, it’s not coming from me. Nothing I can do about it.”

  * * *

  “Massimo, this is really going to hurt. You drop by and tell me that, with no notice? How am I supposed to find that much cash at the drop of a hat? You think I can just pull it out of the till?”

  * * *

  My face is flushed. I’m having to bite back my anger. The implications are just sinking into my bones. I quickly calculate. I don’t have that much in the bank. I have no spare credit left.

  * * *

  I have almost no choices, as far as I can see. I can pick another coffee supplier. Like, by the end of today. Or, I can wave goodbye to every penny I put into this business.

  * * *

  I don’t see how I can trade through this. Not in less than six weeks. Six weeks’ trade and everything would be covered, but not the outgoings. Not the milk, sugar, elegant pastries, and the cakes.

  * * *

  I can make sandwiches. That was always an emergency fallback. But I can’t make the cakes. This is a disaster.

  * * *

  Massimo has on a sad puppy face. ”Jamie, I get it that this is tough. If it was me… Any hoo, what I can do? I will go round the rest of my calls this afternoon, and come back about five. I don’t know how much that helps.”

  * * *

  I’m shaking. I thank him. Not very nicely. His eyes are sad.

  * * *

  Before he leaves, I ask, “Are you going around to everybody and telling them this?”

  * * *

  “Jamie…”

  * * *

  “You’re not.” Like a cold bath, the shock washes over me. “It’s just me.”

  * * *

  Massimo spreads his hands. He pulls his upper shoulders. Presses his lips together. His face is red.

  * * *

  Why, Massimo?” I’m crashed. “Why me, Massimo?”

  * * *

  “It’s the competition. Like I said.”

  * * *

  “What competition?”

  * * *

  “The shop front on the corner. The other side of the crossroads? You see it’s being renovated?”

  * * *

  I shake my head.

  * * *

  Massimo says, “One of the chains. Moving in on the corner.”

  * * *

  “But the chains all supply their own coffee. That’s how their business models work.”

  * * *

  “They’re taking coffee from us. At least for the first year.”

  * * *

  “On condition that all the smaller shops pay three months in advance?”

  * * *

  “Yeah.” He looks down. “Some of them.”

  * * *

  After Massimo leaves, I sit on a stool behind the counter. I call Summer. I feel like I’ve been drained out.

  “Summer, I’m gutted.”

  * * *

  “How can you survive that?” Summer’s voice is quiet and low. I know she must be thinking about all the cakes that I buy from her. This is bad news for both of us.

  * * *

  “I’ve worked so hard for this, Summer. I’ve put everything into this little coffee shop. I know what the business from here means to you, too, Summer.”

  * * *

  “I know how hard you worked, Jamie. Try another coffee supplier, maybe?“ Summer suggests.

  * * *

  “At this short notice? Anyway Massimo’s roasters are the best. I did taste trials with about fifty potential customers. More than forty of them chose Massimo’s coffee.” There’s only one way I can see, but I don’t want to do it. “I’ve maxed all my credit, there’s nothing I can sell. I don’t have anything but my body. I wouldn’t get much for that.”

  * * *

  Summer laughs. “You sell yourself short, girl. Plenty of people would pay a lot for those curves. I’m not suggesting it as an option. I really am just saying, don’t be down on yourself about that.”

  * * *

  Well, at least we both manage to laugh about it. For a moment or two, anyway.

  * * *

  “No, Summer. There’s only one way I can see.”

  * * *

  There’s a hollow silence on the other end. I hear Summer gulp.

  * * *

  “What choice do I have?” I ask her. “I don’t have another line of credit anywhere.”

  * * *

  “You need to think hard about it, girl. You go that way, it’s a choice you don’t get to unmake. You go into business with someone like him, it’s for keeps.”

  Chapter 8

&nb
sp; Jamie

  I’m chewing the inside of my cheek. Already the sound of his voice on the phone is washing down through my body like a hot waterfall.

  * * *

  “Jamie. Good to hear from you.”

  * * *

  His voice conjures up a picture in my mind. The picture has the smoky gleam of his eyes on one end. On the other end is the massive bulge in his pants.

  * * *

  I feel his eyes like I felt them wander over my body. I feel him studying me. Looking at me that way he’d look at steak. Or a tiramisu.

  * * *

  “Angelo, I need your help.”

  * * *

  “Hell, I knew you would fucking call me. We’ve got a connection. You and me? There’s something there.” There’s bravado in his voice. Like he feels the spot that I’m in and he’s keeping it light. Yeah, Jamie, I tell myself, He’s the mobster with a heart.

  * * *

  Now I don’t want to tell him. I didn’t want to tell him in the first place. I didn’t want to make this call. But now, now he’s talking about him and me, even joking, and I’m just calling to ask him for money. I never felt so cheap in my life.

  * * *

  “Angelo, you said that you could help.”

  * * *

  “Jamie, I’m telling you, I want to help you in every way that I can.” He’s in a crowded room with music. A bar maybe. I hear him stand, “One way in particular. I want to help you reach a cascade of devastating orgasms. I want to help you make babies by the dozen.”

  * * *

  It’s almost too much to bear. I shut off my mind, not daring to think about whether I want those things or not. I can’t think about that now.

  * * *

  He’s walking as he talks. “Tell me when you need me to come around so I can give you what you’re obviously dying for.”

  * * *

  “Angelo. I need money.”

  * * *

  There’s a sound on the other end of the line. He’s laughing. I’m begging him for money and he’s laughing at me.

  * * *

  Maybe it would be better if I just jump off a bridge. I don’t think I can bear this.

  * * *

  “Jamie?”

  * * *

  “Yes, Angelo?”

  * * *

  “Just hold on one minute, can you?”

  * * *

  He’s laughing again. There’s someone with him. “Okay, sugar, I promise, whatever you need. Why don’t I come see you, tomorrow. Morning. I’m not great for the first thing, crack of dawn style, get me. But later in the morning.”

  * * *

  “Angelo, I need money. I need it today. In the next hour or so.”

  * * *

  “It can’t be that urgent, sweet lips.”

  * * *

  “Angelo, please. Stop being such an asshole. I wouldn’t call you if I wasn’t in serious trouble.”

  * * *

  “Oh! You hurt my feelings. That’s the only reason you call me?”

  * * *

  I’m trying to hold it together, but he is really starting to make me mad. “Jamie, wait up, okay? Just one second.”

  * * *

  “Angelo, I said it was business. Can you be businesslike for two seconds?” I realize my voice is rising in pitch. I can hear the panic. I can see my business slipping right out of my fingers. I have probably three hours to save it from going under. If I don’t have that money by the time Massimo comes back, I might as well not even think about opening up tomorrow.

  * * *

  “No, wait, okay?” The sound changes, like he’s moved into a different room. I hear a door close.

  * * *

  Summer is right, of course. I shouldn’t even be thinking about doing business with this guy who is really a mobster. Plain and simple. A real, bona-fide, crime family.

  * * *

  “Jamie, okay, listen to me.” His voice is softer. Serious now. Reassuring. “I couldn’t really talk. I moved into another room. Tell me what you need.”

  * * *

  I tell him.

  * * *

  His voice lowers and flattens. His business manner sends a chill through me. “You know that borrowing from me is going to be more expensive than getting it anywhere else. You understand that, right?”

  * * *

  “There’s nowhere else I can go, Angelo.”

  * * *

  “That’s how it is. Jamie, I’m going to lay it out for you so you understand. Okay?”

  Chapter 9

  Jamie

  That swagger in his hip, that look in his eye, he’s got more energy than most men half his age. He radiates it. As he steps into the coffee bar the air crackles with energy. The man is a walking powerplant.

  * * *

  His eyes register when I tell him that I want to borrow more. He’s not only thinking about the math, it isn’t just the business. He is thinking about what it means for me. I know he is. How do I know?

  * * *

  When I said, ‘how about I take a little more,’ for a moment there, I think he was thinking about the double meaning. Yeah, and maybe I was, too. But as soon as I said it, his eyes flicked around the coffee shop. He looked at the espresso machine. The chiller cabinets. He was thinking about how I was going to handle the debt.

  * * *

  And I’m thinking about that too. My idea, it only just occurred to me. Borrow more, but use it as a cushion. Hold it to lighten the load of the repayments. Of course, it would be tempting to just run out and blow it. Being in a financial corner, makes you want to blow off steam. that’s how pressure is.

  * * *

  But I’m just thinking down the line. And I’m very carefully not thinking about the burden that he could be, if he were lying on top of me. With his load, pressured up, ready for delivery.

  * * *

  It’s hard to spend a moment with him without thinking about it. And I shouldn’t be. Not only because he’s too old, but also because I’m getting into business with a mobster.

  * * *

  I’m opening myself up to the boss of one of the most notorious crime families in this city. And while I should be thinking about the finance, about spreading the load, all I can think about is spreading under him.

  * * *

  How can it be? I never have more than the lightest flicker of attraction for a man. The guys that come into the coffee shop, lots of them are great guys. Some of them are even great guys who are hot and great-looking. But I never think for more than a moment about anything more. Okay, don’t get me wrong. I do think about it. For a moment. But really, that’s all.

  * * *

  Being within a few feet of Angelo, it’s like I’ve gone through the looking glass. It’s full reverse. It’s almost impossible to think about anything except how it could feel to grip his bones hard in my thighs. To plunge my fingers down the front of his pants. To have him haul out his cock and shove it in my mouth. Between my tits. Into my aching, wet pussy.

  * * *

  Thinking about it is making me squirm.

  * * *

  His eyes hold onto mine, and bright, hot cascades of tingle spread down the insides of my thighs. My knees feel like they’re about to give out.

  * * *

  The worst of it is, I know I need to keep a straight business head on. But I also know, given half the chance, I would jump and climb his bones in a heartbeat. I would knock him to the ground right now. Rip the buttons off his beautiful shirt and sink my teeth into the hard ripples of his abs. Sit on him, pin him down while I bounce on him, hard. Until he pins me and nails me.