by Elks, Carrie
Ember used to bring her iPod and speakers with her – that was back in the days before they had smartphones to keep them company. They’d play music and dance themselves silly without fear of anybody seeing them. Ally smiled, remembering how Ember would fling out her arms and spin until she dropped.
Those were good times. She missed them. Now they were too busy to spend more than a few hours together. Ember had her relationship with Lucas, and Brooke had her son, Nicholas, to take care of, and on top of that they were both so busy with their jobs and school. Ally’s eyes began to sting and she blinked, blaming the salty air that carried up from the water.
She came to a stop in the middle of the cove, stretching out her arms, and feeling her chest open as her fingertips reached out into the air. Then she spun herself around the way that Ember always used to, starting slow, before turning faster, her hands whooshing through the air as her body turned in circles.
She’d forgotten how it felt to be this free. To not care about the fact she was getting dizzy, nor that any moment she’d be too lightheaded to remain upright. Instead, she kept turning, her body leaning to the left, the air escaping her mouth in a shout of joy.
By the time she fell over her blood was rushing through her ears, echoing the sound of the waves crashing into shore. She collapsed on her back, flinging her limbs out in a starfish position, feeling her body still moving in circles even though she’d stopped.
As the sound of her rushing blood died down, it was replaced by something strange and high pitched. Ally cocked her eye open, glancing out of the corner. She saw a young girl standing there, laughing her head off at this adult who’d spun herself until she’d felt sick.
“Glad I amused you,” Ally said, not feeling quite stable enough to sit up yet.
The girl shook her head and laughed again. Ally opened her other eye and attempted to focus on her. She looked a little familiar, but she couldn’t quite place her. “Do I know you?” Ally asked.
“Nope.” The girl shook her head. “I’m new in town.”
Slowly, Ally sat up. Her stomach was still lurching. “Then you probably don’t know that this is our town dance. Everybody who lives here has to do it.”
“Bullshit.”
Ally blinked. “Okay, so I might be making that bit up. But don’t you ever want to spin until everything else disappears?”
“All the time.” The girl sat down and pulled her knees to her chest, circling her arms around them. “But what I’d really like to do is spin myself out of town and back home. Wherever the hell that is.”
The girl sounded despondent. If only Brooke was here. Or Ember. Both of her friends were so much better at talking to children than Ally was. She was more used to taking their food orders and telling them to get their feet off the benches.
“Don’t you like it here?” Ally asked, grasping for anything to say to the girl. “I’m Ally by the way.”
“Riley,” the girl replied. “And no, I don’t like it here. I prefer Seattle where there’s actually something to do. Do you know all everybody talks about is the beach? When they’re going to sunbathe or surf, or go and grab an ice cream from the parlor. If you took the sand away there would be nothing to do at all.”
“There’s the mountains,” Ally pointed out. “Lots of people go hiking up there.”
“But what about the movies and the mall?” Riley replied. “What about hanging around and going out to eat together? There’s nothing fun to do around here.”
“Déjà Brew is opening up an outlet at the beach,” Ally said. “I’ve heard it’s pretty popular with kids.”
The girl let out a strangled scream that made Ally jump. “Do you know how much I hate Déjà Brew?” Riley asked, her nose wrinkling up. “I hate it with the power of a thousand angry demons.”
“Wow,” Ally replied, her brows rising up. “That’s a lot of hate. What did the place ever do to you?”
“My dad owns it.” Riley shrugged. “Isn’t that enough?”
Ally felt the air rush out of her lungs. “You’re Nate Crawford’s daughter?”
Riley frowned, tipping her head to the side. “How do you know my dad?”
“I work for him.”
The girl’s lips twitched. “At Déjà Brew? Oh god, what on Earth did you do to deserve that? Torture kids? Kill a cat?”
“Is he that bad?” Ally asked, biting down a smile. There was something about this girl that she liked.
Riley leaned forward, her voice lowering. “He’s much, much worse. Take my word for it. Run as fast as you can. And whatever you do, don’t look back.”
This time Ally couldn’t stop herself from grinning. She loved the way teenage girls were so dramatic – she could remember being that way herself. Maybe she still was sometimes; ignoring her dad’s calls being a case in point. “Well I guess I should be going now,” she said, standing up and brushing the sand off her. “I have another couple of miles to run.” She nodded at the girl. “I’ll see you around, Riley.”
Riley finally smiled, and it lit up her face. “Not if I see you first. And definitely not at Déjà Brew.”
Ally raised her eyebrows, lifting her hand in a goodbye. And as she left, ready to continue her run, she could see Riley begin to spin around the same way Ally had done only ten minutes earlier.
It was strange how happy that made her feel.
5
“You’re early.” Nate pulled the door to the café open. She wasn’t expecting him to have a smile on his face, but there it was, wide and natural. Ally was momentarily disarmed. She had to curl her fingers up and dig her nails into her palms to snap herself out of it.
“I thought it would be good to make the right impression, since it’s my first day,” she said as Nate stepped aside to let her pass. Her bare arm brushed against his, and for a second she felt the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. But then her attention was taken by the interior of the shop, and she looked around with wide eyes.
Everything had changed. The walls were painted a deep matte blue, and the floors were freshly laid with polished walnut planks. There was a new counter, too, deep black with a shiny steel top.
“What do you think?” he asked. She felt her mouth go dry. It looked amazing, and yet her heart ached at the sight.
“It’s nice,” she said, her voice thick. “You’ve done a great job.”
He was still looking at her, she noticed. His eyes scanned her face as if he was searching for something more. She tried to swallow down the emotion that was coursing up inside her. Now wasn’t the time to mourn the demise of her dad’s old café. It was time to look forward.
She glanced over at the counter again, noticing the huge espresso machine placed behind it. She’d never seen such a big one – it was a stainless steel monster. Even worse, it looked complicated as hell.
Nate glanced behind him, as though he was following her gaze. “Shall I take you through the equipment?” he asked her.
“You’re doing the training?” Ally widened her eyes. She hadn’t expected him to be the one to show her the ropes. But a glance around the café told her it was only the two of them in there.
“Yeah. It’ll be a lot easier for you to learn if somebody shows you. We have corporate videos, of course, and manuals. But I have a couple of spare hours so…” He shrugged, trailing off.
“Will the other staff be joining us?”
“No. Once I train you, it’ll be your job to train them. They’ll be coming in later this week, ready to open on Monday. But as the manager, you’re the most important one right now.”
She tried to ignore the little shiver that snaked down her spine at the thought of them being alone in here. It didn’t matter how good he looked with his sleeves rolled up to reveal his golden skin, or how every time he looked at her she felt her body heat all over. He was her boss. He owned the whole damn company, after all. And she was way too old for crushes.
Shaking her head at herself, she squared her shoulder
s and followed him over to the counter.
“Have you ever used a machine like this before?” he asked as they walked. “I don’t remember seeing one in the inventory.”
“We used to have an automatic machine,” she told him, taking the apron he offered her and knotting it behind her waist. “But it looked nothing like this.” She took a deep breath, deciding to be frank with him. “If I’m being completely honest, I don’t know that much about coffee. We ordered ours in from the same place for years. I used to scoop it into the filter and let it brew. If it smelled good and strong then it worked.”
Nate was silent for a moment. She looked down, embarrassed at her own admission. But then he cleared his throat, and she felt the warmth of his stare on her face without even having to look.
“Why don’t we start with the basics?” he suggested. “In fact, grab a seat.” He pointed at a stool. “I’ll give you a brief history of the coffee bean.”
“Seriously?” Her lip curled into a half-smile.
He shrugged. “Why not? We’ve got all day.”
Really? He’d said earlier they only had a couple of hours. Refraining from commenting on that, she did as she was told, sitting on the stool next to the counter, as Nate reached below and pulled out three jars of beans.
“Did you know the word coffee comes from the Arabic for ‘wine of the bean’?” he asked her, opening one of the jars and tipping some out into his palm. “Once you get to know all the different varieties you’ll understand how similar to wine it is. There’s a different bean for every kind of palate.” He dropped a single bean into her hand, and curled her fingers over it. “This one’s a light roasted bean from Brazil.”
“It feels oily.”
“It’s the roast,” he said. “Lift it to your nose. Tell me what you smell.”
She held the bean to her face, inhaling it in. For a second she closed her eyes. “It’s almost nutty,” she said, letting the aroma take over her senses.
“Now try it.”
“Try it?” She looked up at him, her voice full of questions.
He nodded. “Put it in your mouth.”
Nate stared at her intently as she opened her lips and pushed the bean onto her tongue.
“What can you taste?” he asked.
“It has an earthy flavor,” she said softly, her eyes still connected to his.
“What else?” His voice lowered. He’d moved close enough for her to hear his breath.
“It’s sweeter than I thought.”
“It’s not as strong as some of the darker roasts,” he said. “But it has more caffeine than they do.”
He held another bean out. “This one’s a medium roast from Ethiopia,” he told her. “Can you tell the difference between this and the last one?” he asked, placing it onto her palm.
She slipped it into her mouth, and closed her eyes. It was better that way. Less personal. Something about it being just the two of them was making her senses feel raw. As if he could see right through her and knew how attractive she thought he was.
“It’s not as oily,” she whispered, rolling the bean around her tongue. “And it has more pep to it. It almost tastes fruity.”
When she opened her eyes, she saw his lips curl up into a smile. “You’ve got a good palate,” he told her, nodding slowly. “Not everybody can tell the difference.”
She flushed at his approval. “You’re a good teacher. You make it seem easy.”
He opened his mouth to say something, then obviously thought better of it, turning around to grab a tiny glass cup from where they were stacked on the side. “Now, I’m going to show you how a good espresso should look.”
He turned and placed the cup on the machine, then pulled at the lever above until it came loose. “This is the porta filter,” he said, turning to show it to her. It’s where we put the coffee in.” He held it beneath another machine – this one full of beans. When he pressed a button it started grinding them, and coffee powder spilled into the filter.
She watched as he pressed it down with something he called a ‘temper’ before he put it back in the espresso machine. There was something about his easy competence that made her lean forward, her eyes glued to the movement of his hands as he fixed the porta filter back in.
He pressed a button and the water was forced through the filter, pushing out a deep colored coffee.
“You can’t leave an espresso standing for more than thirty seconds,” he told her, turning to place the cup in front of her. “That doesn’t give you much time to either serve it or make up whatever drink the customer has ordered. Speed is of the essence.”
“What happens if you leave it for longer?”
“You have to throw it away and start again.” He shrugged. “Believe me, we go through a lot. Can you see the three layers?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling. “It’s darker at the bottom. Then a little lighter, and at the top it’s almost white.”
“The top part is called the crema. If you get these three layers you know you’ve made a good espresso. If there’s no crema you try again.”
“You want to taste it?” he asked, his fingertips brushing hers.
She nodded, lifting the cup to her lips. She could feel the heat steaming up, as it misted the top of the glass. She blew at the surface before slowly tipping it up and letting the hot, black liquid coat her tongue.
Nate leaned his elbows on the counter, his face inches from hers. “What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s exquisite.”
His eyes caught hers again. It was crazy how often it was happening. Even crazier the way her heart hammered every time it did. Neither of them moved, blinked or even breathed. For a moment everything was still.
And then it was like a curtain had been pulled down. Nate pulled his gaze from hers and pushed himself away from the counter, taking her cup and rinsing it under the sink. “Okay, it’s your turn to make one,” he said, still looking away.
Oh God, this time she’d really embarrassed herself. No wonder he pulled away, he must have seen the way she was staring at him. Gritting her teeth, Ally stood and walked around the counter, tightening her apron as she made her way to the imposing espresso machine. She felt better with a few feet between them – enough space to be able to breathe. She swallowed hard and told herself to stop being so weird. He was her boss. That was all. Maybe she should behave like an adult without embarrassing herself for once.
“Wish me luck,” she said, still not looking at him. She had a feeling she was going to need it.
* * *
Nate watched as Ally pulled the porta filter from the machine and slid it beneath the coffee dispenser the way he’d shown her. There was at least four feet between them right now, he’d made sure to hang back as far as he could, but right then it didn’t seem far enough.
He felt an overwhelming urge to touch her. He had to hold tightly to the counter to stop himself from doing it.
Christ. He blew out a mouthful of air and took a step back. Best to keep the distance between them. He was her boss, for God’s sake.
Not to mention old enough to be her father. Or a much older brother, at least. Somehow that didn’t make it feel any better.
Ally pushed the filter back into the machine and pressed the button. But instead of forcing the water through the coffee grounds, the steam pushed the filter off where Ally hadn’t fixed it on properly, and coffee grounds flew everywhere. “Oh shit.” She grabbed a wet cloth and wiped it all down, glancing over at Nate with a rueful smile.
“It’s okay,” he said, glad of the diversion. “It happens. Try again.”
This time the coffee came out when she hit the button, filling the little glass cup with dark liquid. She glanced at her watch and then at the cup before picking it up and carrying it over to him. “You have twenty seconds before it’s no good,” she told him.
He lifted it up, inspecting it. “Three layers,” he murmured. Then he brought it to his lips and drank from the cup, letting the
warm, nutty flavor envelope his tongue.
Her eyes were full of anticipation as she waited for his verdict, the same way Riley used to look when she was a kid, holding a drawing out for his inspection. “It’s good,” he told her.
“Really?” she asked. “You like it?” Her lips curled up into a huge grin, and she clapped her hands together with delight.
“Yeah. I think you’ve got the hang of espresso. Now let’s move on to the steamed milk. I’ll show you the difference between cappuccinos, lattes, and flat whites.”
“This is so much more fun than I thought it would be,” she told him, that smile still curling her full lips.
She was right. In spite of the need that was thrumming in his veins, he realized he was having more fun than he’d experienced in a long while. “I don’t get a chance to use the machines very often,” he admitted. “Normally the only equipment I spend my day on is the laptop. I’ve missed doing this.” Back when he’d had his first coffee shop, Nate had spent most of his life attached to an espresso machine, but it had been years since he’d done more than have a little play with them.
“I guess that’s what happens when you rise to the top. You stop doing the thing you actually love and get to watch all your employees do it instead.”
“Yep. You’re not wrong.” A wistful expression crossed his face.
“Maybe it’s a good thing you came to Angel Sands, then,” Ally said. “You can relax and have fun for a change.”
The corner of his lip quirked up. “Yeah, maybe.”
Ally took the cup back from him and turned around to rinse it. Nate watched as she bent over to turn on the faucet, her blonde hair flowing over her shoulders. “I met your daughter the other day,” she said, her back still to him. “She seems nice. Is she settling in okay?”
“You met Riley?” Nate blinked. For some reason her words pushed him off center. “Where?”
Ally turned back, grabbing a towel to dry off her hands. “At the beach. It was last Wednesday, I think. I was on my lunchtime run.”