by V. Vaughn
Ian says, “It’s weird. I don’t really like coffee, but now that I know I’m not allowed to have it I want some.”
“I get it,” says Debbie. “That happens to me every single time I go on a diet. All I want is chips, and ice cream, and cookies.”
We chuckle at her as I glance over at the shelves of coffee for sale. Before Eroscian men started coming to earth, I struggled to make enough to get by. Over the past few months with the thousands of new coffee drinkers frequenting my shop, my business has exploded. I hired more employees and loaded up my stock to keep up with the demand. Now that the new customer base has been yanked out of my hands, I’ve got a lot more to worry about than how to keep my employees within the law. I might have to take drastic cost cutting measures. Or...
I say, “We need to do some serious brainstorming because I don’t want to lose the Eroscian customer. What new drink recipes can you think of that don’t contain coffee?”
“We can try some steamed milk with just flavor shots,” says Debbie.
“That’s good,” I say.
Ian says, “How about some juice and milk blends?”
“Yes. These are great.” I stand up with a mission. “Let’s do some taste testing.”
Ian, Debbie and I spend the afternoon creating new drinks, and when my second shift comes in I get more ideas. We create a long list of contenders for the new menu. After we close down for the night, I go home with my mind swimming with our new plan.
Oliver is lounging on the couch when I walk through the door of my apartment. I ask, “How was your tour with Jake?”
“Great. We ended up at a sports bar. Chicken wings have to be one of the unhealthiest dinners I’ve ever had, but they sure tasted good.” I grin as he stands and asks, “Can I get you a glass of wine? Jake says Hannah likes one to unwind at night, so I bought a bottle for you.”
“How thoughtful. I would, thanks.”
I begin to follow him to the kitchen, but he says, “Sit. I’ve got this.”
“You know how to open wine?” I plop down on the couch to remove my aching feet from my shoes and stretch out.
“It’s a screw top,” he calls out. When he returns he hands me a glass, sits at the other end of the couch, and puts my feet in his lap.
He begins to massage one, and I let out a moan. “You don’t have to do that.”
He waggles his eyebrows at me. “When you make a noise like that I do.”
I chuckle. “I’ll remember that.” I take a sip of my drink and feel the slight burn of alcohol slide down my throat.
Oliver asks, “Did it get any busier?”
I shake my head. “No, but we were productive. I had my staff help me come up with a variety of non-coffee drinks. I can’t afford to lose the business if Eroscians stop coming into my shop, so I’m going to do whatever I can to court you guys.”
“That’s a great plan.”
“Thanks.” The arch of my foot relaxes as Oliver massages it. “I’ve got a long list of possibilities I need to narrow down, and then I’m going to need to create some clever names and a savvy marketing campaign.”
“What if you named the drinks with a funny alien reference?”
My knee-jerk reaction is to reject his idea. But then I recall him mentioning that Eroscians believe our idea of aliens is silly, and I think humor they could appreciate might be the way to go. “That’s not a bad idea. Let me get my laptop and look at the list we came up with.”
I pull my foot away to move, but Oliver says, “I can get it. Is it in the bag you left by the door?”
“Yes.” I smile as he waits on me, because I could get used to this treatment. When he hands me my computer I pull up the drink list, and the machine thuds on the coffee table when I set it down for him to see. “I need to narrow this down a lot, but if anything screams a name to you, let me know. I plan to keep all of the recipes to roll out as specials or when we need to change things up.”
“Wow. You guys were busy. How are you going to decide what to keep?”
I let out a yawn as I lean back on the couch holding my glass. “I’m not sure. I guess I’ll worry about that tomorrow.”
“What if you had a contest?”
I take another sip of my wine as I fight my annoyance at his suggestion. It’s one thing to let him offer drink names, but now he’s pushing it. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out.”
“Morgan.” Oliver’s voice is stern. “Why are you so opposed to me taking an interest in your business?”
I sigh. “I’m not.”
“You said your employees helped come up with the new drinks. Talk to me as if I’m one of them. If my idea is awful, just say so. All I’m trying to do is trigger the thought process, and it might help you come up with something better. ”
He’s right. I had no trouble keeping an open mind with my staff today, yet I can’t seem to let Oliver, the man I’m supposed to marry, help me. But if I plan to keep him happy, I should at least try to listen. “Fine. What do you mean by contest?”
“How many drinks would you like to end up with?”
“I’d like to offer six and then two seasonal specials.”
Oliver scans the list and says, “You have about thirty-two recipes. What if you divided them up to offer eight a week over a month long period?” He grabs my legs and lifts my feet back into his lap as he speaks quickly with excitement. “Customers could fill out a score card for the drink they try, and at the end of the week you put the two highest-rated beverages on the menu. Each entry could be a ticket for a drawing to win something.”
His enthusiasm is contagious, and before I realize I’m doing more than just listening, I hear myself say, “The prize could be a gift card to keep them coming back.”
Another yawn escapes me, and I think about how little sleep I’ve gotten in the past few days. I’m at the point of complete exhaustion, but I think tonight I’ll be able to get some rest knowing I have a course of action to help salvage my business.
“Perfect,” says Oliver.
I sit up to set my empty glass on the table, and he asks, “Would you like more?”
“No. I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. I’m sorry I’m not much company, but I need to go to bed.” I stand up and gaze down at him as I think about how nice it is to have someone to talk to about my day, and I have to admit he does have good ideas. “Thanks for your help tonight. I appreciate it.”
“I’m here to do whatever you need, Morgan. I plan on us being a partnership in every way you wish. Even if all you want is my support.”
The warmth of his sincerity fills my heart. I lean down, and his shoulder muscles are firm on my palms as I kiss his cheek. “Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” he says. “Sleep well.”
“You too.” I leave him with a smile on my face, because even if I’m struggling to accept his help, I want a partnership with Oliver.
Chapter 5
I manage to sleep like the dead, and I’m still groggy when my alarm goes off. It’s not until I stumble to the kitchen for coffee that I remember I have a house guest in the form of one sexy alien. He’s standing behind the counter in just a pair of running shorts as sweat glistens on the most magnificent chest I’ve ever laid eyes on. I rub my eyes to focus.
“Good morning,” Oliver says.
“Morning,” I grumble as I walk over to the coffee pot.
“Hey. I’m making an energy drink. I can make you some too.”
I scrunch up my face as I imagine a spinach-flavored concoction that would make me gag. “No thanks. I don’t usually eat breakfast so coffee will be fine.”
Oliver tsks at me. “Morgan, that’s a terrible way to start your day. Besides, remember I told you I worked in nutrition research?" Milk splashes against the sides of the blender as he pours it. “I brought some of my special energy blend I’ve been working on. It’s been tested on some of your world class athletes, and they all swear by it.”
I frown as
I recall something about a new sports powder Olympic athletes have been raving about, and how they were complaining about the cost. “Are you talking about that crazy-expensive stuff I heard about?”
Oliver smiles at me as he holds up a large plastic bag that’s similar to what we on earth use. “That’s the stuff.”
I squint at him. “And they let you come to earth with that?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t exactly tell customs what kind of energy powder I was importing.”
He spoons some into the blender, and I begin the process of making coffee. I notice a row of saucers on the windowsill over the sink. When I look closer, I find there is a wet paper towel folded up on each one. “What experiment do you have going on over here?”
Oliver’s grin covers his face. “That is—.” He says a word in Eroscian I could never pronounce. “The magic ingredient I can’t find here on earth for my energy blend. I’m sprouting the seeds.”
“Huh.” As Oliver cuts up fresh strawberries, I realize Jake took him shopping for more than wine, and knowing how well that man cooks I bet he gave Oliver a good recipe. “Okay. I’ll try some.”
“Excellent. I can’t wait to hear how your morning goes because of it.”
I flip the switch on the coffee maker as the blender whirls. Oliver pours us each a large glass of the shake, and I lift the pink-colored liquid to my lips for a taste. I’m surprised when I find the strongest flavor is strawberries. “That’s pretty good.”
“Yeah. It is,” Oliver says as he looks at his drink. “The biggest complaint from the athletes was the taste. Problem solved. Jake knows what he’s talking about.”
“He does.” I recall the dinner I had at Hannah and Jake’s last week. It was a culinary delight.
“I worked on the list of names for your drinks last night. I’m not attached to any, so don’t feel as if you need to use them.”
“Thank you. I’m sure you came up with some great ones.” I’m not sure if it’s the night of sleep or the fact I have a plan of action that’s making me more relaxed about my shop, but I realize I want to spend some time with Oliver today so we can get to know each other better. “I have to go into work this morning, but I can take a few hours off for lunch if you’d like.”
“That would be great. What do you have in mind?”
“There’s a great deli around the corner from my shop where we could get sandwiches to eat in the park.”
“Like a picnic?”
I notice foam on his lip and watch as he licks it off. “Exactly. How does that sound?”
“Fun.”
“The park is lovely.” I say. Oliver’s neck works as he swallows more of his shake, and a tingle of desire warms me as I imagine kissing his throat and tasting his skin. “We can also rent a row boat for the pond if you want.”
“That sounds very romantic. Will you have a parasol?”
I chuckle. “You Eroscians watch way too much of our television.”
“I know. But it sure helped me with drink names.”
I down the rest of my shake, and the glass clatters in the sink where I put it. “I can’t wait to see them. But right now I need to get ready for work.” I leave Oliver in the kitchen to go shower and get dressed. When I make my way back to the kitchen to grab my coffee, I find him stretching on a yoga mat in the living room.
I take a moment to appreciate the fine line of his form, and when he catches me he grins. “I filled a travel mug of coffee for you and added a splash of milk the way you like.”
His thoughtfulness warms my heart. “Thanks. I should be free around eleven if you want to meet me at the shop.”
“I’ll be there. I hope you have a productive morning.”
My spirits are high as I walk to work, and I let my mind wander with fantasies of my time with Oliver later. I never thought I’d like a man doting on me, since I associate the trait with someone who is weak. The vision of Oliver half-naked in my kitchen flashes in mind and reassures me there is nothing weak about my alien. I gaze up at the sky and notice how blue it is, and I discover I’m humming a tune as I move with a light step.
I stop at the crosswalk and realize I can’t stop smiling. I feel fantastic. My limbs seem stronger and more agile, as if I could run for miles. I don’t think I can attribute the euphoric feeling solely to my plan to save my business. Is it because I’m falling in love with Oliver already? It could be, but I think it’s more. Oh my god. I bet it’s Oliver’s energy powder. Wow.
I wave at the man in the newsstand as I pull my keys out of my purse. “Good morning. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” He frowns at me in confusion before he shakes his head and mutters something about caffeine affecting humans too. I ignore him and enter my shop. I’m in such a good mood that even my daunting list of tasks doesn’t bring me down.
My morning flies by, and when I grab my travel mug for a sip of coffee out of habit, I realize I’ve only had one cup. Usually I’d have drained my to-go container and would be working on my third cup by now. It’s got to be due to Oliver’s energy drink, and it’s no wonder he was anxious for me to try it.
I check the time and realize Oliver should be here soon, so I click out of my programs and prepare to take a few hours off. When I leave my office I walk out to find the shop is just as slow as I’d expected. Paper rustles as I hand Debbie the menu of new drinks to put on the blackboard along with a pile of score sheets. I explain Oliver’s idea for the contest.
“I love this idea,” she says.
Ian comes over and reads the list. “Danger, Will Robinson for the chili-spiced drink?” He chuckles. “That’s a great name since Eroscians have probably seen every episode of Lost in Space.”
“Oliver came up with them.”
Ian laughs as he reads through more, and Debbie asks, “How are we going to advertise the contest?”
Ian’s wife Cathy works at the television station doing special interest pieces. I smile at Debbie. “I think the idea is so clever it’s newsworthy, don’t you?”
She and I both look at Ian, and he frowns before he finally gets it. “Oh. Sure. A positive spin on all of this would be good. I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’re in a good mood,” says Debbie as Ian walks away. She grins. “Would it have something to do with a new alien in your life?”
I smile back. “Maybe.”
The door creaks open, and we both look over to see Oliver walking in. She nudges me. “And there he is.”
“Hey,” I say to him as I walk over. I glance back at Debbie. “I’m taking a few hours off for lunch. I’ll be back this afternoon.”
“Have fun,” she says as Oliver leads me out the door.
When we get outside, I take a deep breath and blow it out.
“How was your morning? And more importantly, how are you feeling about your business?”
“I’m okay,” I say. “I like the new direction we’re trying, and I think I might be able to salvage something here.” A warm breeze blows around us as a truck rumbles by.
“Good. Because you’re a smart woman who thinks quickly on her feet. I have no doubt you’ll figure out a way to maintain your success.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I mean it. What little I’ve seen has impressed me.” We walk in silence for a moment before he asks, “Did you notice any difference in your energy this morning?”
“Oh my gosh, yes! I’m sorry I didn’t mention it sooner. I feel happier than I can remember, and it has to do with the shake you made me drink this morning. It’s amazing!”
“I thought it might help with the stress.”
“Does it make you feel this good too?” I ask as we approach the deli where we’ll get lunch.
“It does make aliens feel good, but I suspect not at the level it does for you. I have a theory why.”
“What is it?”
“The plant I use is full of nutrients that fast- track their way into your system. Eroscians eat a very healthy, although bland d
iet that ensures nobody is lacking any essential nutrients so the effects of my powder aren’t as noticeable.”
I nod as I think about the way we eat in the United States, and how even though I try to consume vegetables every day, there are plenty of nights instant macaroni and cheese is my dinner because I’m too lazy to cook something better. “I must be lacking all sorts of vitamins and minerals. It is kind of embarrassing that humans have so much knowledge, but we continue to make stupid health choices.” Oliver glances at me and frowns. “What?” I ask.
“I don’t want to insult your race, but the people of earth do some bizarre things I don’t understand. Like cigarettes. That one makes no sense to me.”
“Me either. I guess it’s an addiction thing.”
“But why even start in the first place?”
I shrug. “To be cool. Or because your parents did and it’s what you know. I’m not sure. I just know it’s a tough habit to break. If it weren’t, the tobacco industry wouldn’t still be in business.”
“I’m not saying Eroscians are perfect. I’d still rather live on earth, but I wish I could fix it all.”
We’ve reached the deli, and I pull the door open for us to go inside. It’s a small space, and we have to stand in line. I say, “I’m sure it’s much easier to remain healthy when food doesn’t give you pleasure the way it does here. Do you regret awakening your tastebuds?”
Oliver takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Not at all. I believe in the theory of moderation your experts tout.” He sniffs the air and smiles. “Besides, Jake said I have to try a roast beef sandwich with spicy mustard, a dill pickle and chips.”
I smile up at him as I think about how happy he makes me. My business could very well crash and burn, yet the man I’m with makes me feel optimistic anyway. “Oliver?”
“Yes?”
I reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the lips. A flush heats up my face at my bold move as my heart fills with the glow of my attraction. “Thank you for helping me focus on the good in my life. Like you.”
Oliver smiles and bends down to kiss me again. He cradles my face in his hands and whispers, “You’re the good thing in my life, Morgan,” before his lips brush across mine.