“Someone suddenly quit,” said Ana tiredly. “And Phillip just stopped coming to work last week. Malory says that she thinks that he moved to Colorado.”
“What do you think?” asked Grissom, surprising Ana. It seemed like an odd thing for him to wonder about. Until very recently, he hadn’t taken much interest in her career as a barista.
He had been all over her artistic career though; mostly, as her head cheerleader.
“I think he’s a jerk,” said Ana fiercely, and Grissom grinned.
Being able to look up and see Grissom seated at one of the small tables in the café area or, when the tables were full of students, sprawled on one of sagging armchairs in the meeting area always filled Ana with delight. It definitely gave her something to look forward to during morning shifts. Maybe Grissom liked it as much as she did. Or maybe he just really liked sausage and egg breakfast burritos.
“Either way, we’re shorthanded and the shifts need covering,” said Ana. “I wish the managers would hire someone else though.”
The only good thing about her recent uptick in hours was that Ana didn’t need to rely on Grissom’s penchant for takeout feasts from three or four different restaurants. She could actually afford to buy all the groceries that she wanted. Her boyfriend was rich, but Ana wasn’t a moocher.
Ana celebrated her newfound wealth by cooking them dinner. Her sister Gabriela was the one with the flair for cooking, not Ana, so Ana tried to keep it simple: steak burritos with roasted corn, fresh peas, and sopapillas with honey for dessert – but Grissom was very grateful. Apparently, he liked a home cooked meal.
Cheered, Ana made him another dinner, this one just as simple: chicken enchiladas with fresh salsa, red beans, and tres leches cake for dessert. Grissom was so pleased that Ana was seriously considering taking up cooking as a hobby. When she said as much to her sister Gabriela, Gabby laughed at her.
One afternoon, another letter came in the mail. Opening it, Ana discovered that it was another fellowship rejection letter. It hurt, but not nearly as much as the first time.
Putting it aside, Ana spent the rest of the afternoon filling out two more fellowship applications. She had been meaning to do them anyway.
When she was done with that, Ana made some of her grandmother’s cheese bread. It was comforting, both in its familiarity and its taste.
When Grissom swung by to pick her up – they were going to spend the night in his house – he found the rejection letter on the counter.
“Ah, honey,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Ana let him pull her into a tight hug. Grissom gave the best hugs.
“It’s all right,” she said. Her cheek was pressed against his strong chest. “It was less shocking this time.”
“I’m sure you’ll get one of the other ones,” said Grissom comfortingly.
Ana wasn’t so sure, but she nodded and let him comfort her anyway. And maybe she was riding the high of his faith in her – or possibly filled with so much cheese bread that everything seemed like a good idea – but Ana filled out another couple of fellowship applications the next day too. The worst that they could say was no. And if they did, Grissom would be there to pick her up and dust her off.
It wouldn’t be so bad.
It was midmorning and near the end of her shift, when Ana looked across the register to see a familiar face looking back at her: African American and pretty with large, limpid eyes.
Ana knew that she had seen this woman somewhere before, but she couldn’t remember where. She was ringing up the woman’s hot cocoa and rice crispy treat, when it suddenly hit her: that last morning, after she had been laid off by Mr. Huchinson.
“Davida Martin,” said Ana, searching her memory. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
The woman standing across from her looked startled.
“Yes, it is,” she said cautiously. “Have we met?”
“We both got taken aside for a quiet word by Mr. Huchinson,” said Ana wryly, watching as understanding bloomed across Davida Martin’s face. “You were the one right after me. How are you?”
“Still looking,” said Davida, sounding some mixture of glum and defensive.
Ana remembered Davida Martin because of one moment: that deep breath, her squared shoulders, and the determined way that she had strode toward Mr. Hutchinson.
Maybe it was that moment – or the fact that Ana was tired of working so many hours – that made Ana say, “I’ve only been working here for a couple of months, but it’s a nice enough place to job search from. You’ll still have to pay for your own health care, but the pay is okay, assuming you keep your expenses down. I like working here well enough, and we’re shorthanded right now. You could probably get hired here if you wanted. Do you want to?”
Davida hesitated a moment before she nodded, and Ana grinned.
“All right,” she said. Down the counter, Ana called, “Hey Lainey? We need a slice of coffee cake too.” To Davida, she said, “The owner has a real weakness for it. He’s here today. Right now, he’s in a meeting with the managers, but you should talk to him after that. His name is Abel Baker, and he’s really nice. He’ll be even nicer, though, if you bring him a slice of coffee cake when you ask him about the job openings.”
“Thanks!” said Davida, looking relieved.
In a matter of minutes, Davida was perched in the armchair closest to the back office, her cup of hot cocoa and two treats in two little brown bags on the table in front of her.
When the managers exited the back office – Doug of the white-blond hair, shark’s tooth necklace, and endless surfing stories; Marc with his slicked back hair, quick fingers, and endless bragging about all the money that he won in some card game somewhere; and Abel Baker, who both owned Affla Coffee and worked a shift as one of the managers – Ana slid out from behind the counter. Catching Mr. Baker’s eye, she introduced him to Davida Martin.
Returning to her place behind the counter, Ana watched as Mr. Baker and Davida Martin disappeared down the short hallway that led to the back office, bathrooms, and the second exit.
Twenty minutes later, Davida was back and being trained on the coffee machines. And just like that, Ana suddenly had more time for Grissom and her art. Tired but happy – and soon to be somewhat poorer – Ana fell into bed that night and slept deeply.
Chapter 18 – Grissom
Grissom had only started spending time in Affla Coffee because it had Ana.
After their fight, their bond had ached.
Ana ached, her heartache ringing through the bond and making Grissom ache with it too. He never wanted his Ana to be unhappy. And since her unhappiness was naturally his unhappiness, and his moods affected the weather, it had been drizzling for days before Grissom had hit on the idea of eating breakfast at Ana’s coffee house.
He didn’t know what was wrong – and she wouldn’t tell him – but having him there every morning seemed to cheer her up.
As Ana’s heart began to find its way back to him, the drizzling rain began to taper off. When Ana was happier, so was Grissom. And when Grissom was happier, the weather cleared up, the sun shining through ragged gray clouds.
The coffee house wasn’t really his sort of place, but if Ana liked him to visit her at work, then he would visit her at work.
It was nice enough, if you didn’t mind dainty furniture or seating that was literally falling apart at the seams. Grissom had the suspicion that it was supposed to strike visitors as cozy rather than nerve-wracking or rundown. At least the layout was slightly better.
The coffee house had two entrances, a front one that everyone used and a back entrance that employees used. It also had an enormous plate glass window at the front of the building, outside of which a little outdoor seating area had been arranged. Left to his own devices that might have been Grissom’s favorite sitting area.
The weather was currently mild enough to make sitting there pleasant, and the wrought iron furniture, although cast in a dainty design, felt sturdy enough to suppo
rt his weight. Most of the patrons that favored the patio had to order their coffee or meal inside and then carry it outside, but coffee house employees were sent outside to take the orders of large groups of regulars, people like the old men that played dominos there every morning.
Unfortunately, the outdoor patio had no direct sightlines to Ana, thus defeating Grissom’s entire purpose in coming to Affla Coffee. Therefore, Grissom never sat at any of the outside tables, if he could help it.
Inside, the coffee house had been split into three rough areas: the café, the study area, and the service counter. Each area had its own advantages and disadvantages.
The café, located on the interior side of the plate glass window, was bathed in light. Populated by small, delicate tables and chairs that always seemed too frail to hold his entire weight – until somehow, miraculously they did – the café nevertheless remained Grissom’s favorite indoor sitting area.
Unless pushed together to form a larger table, each little table was considered its own little island of separateness. No one would try to talk to you or get in your space, save the very polite employees who came by once in awhile to clear empty tables of whatever debris had been left on them. Grissom appreciated the separateness and the quiet he found in that area of the coffee shop.
Sadly, there were only a few tables along the edge of the café section from which Grissom could easily see Ana where she worked at either the cash register or the coffee equipment. If there were already people sitting at them, then Grissom had to sit in the study area.
Generally populated by student study groups – undergraduate, graduate, and even doctoral students – the study area was Grissom’s least favorite place to sit and eat his breakfast.
Lined up across from the counter was a row of sagging couches, their patterns mismatched and their backs pressed up tight against the wall. In front of each couch stood an oval coffee table with a couple of love seats or single seats gracing its other sides. The seats were ratty, and talkative strangers were always trying to persuade him that they’d seen him in their ethics or anthropology or pedagogy of teaching classes and that they should totally get coffee together some time.
The only saving grace of the study area was that he could see Ana from nearly every part of it. That gave Grissom his choice of single seats from which to observe Ana… and the rest of the coffee house.
There was definitely something strange going on in that coffee house. Oh, it all looked sweet enough on the surface, but there were just enough peculiarities to ring alarm bells in his mind.
Affla Coffee was apparently an independent coffee shop and nice enough as far as independent coffee shops went. It had been in business for a couple of years, and during that time, nothing of note had happened there. It had passed all of its health inspections, and everyone that Grissom could see from his various vantage points seemed to be intent on some sort of legitimate business. At least on the surface, Affla Coffee wasn’t worth a second glance.
But Grissom had eaten breakfast there every morning for two weeks, and during that time, he had noticed a few things. Firstly, all of its equipment was new and state of the art. It even had a new and state of the art security system that was better suited to a jewelry store than any coffee shop. Despite this wealth of technology, Affla Coffee had no card readers anywhere on the premise. It didn’t even have one of those free Square card readers from one of the internet’s internet payment processing banks. Affla Coffee dealt solely in cash.
And this, Grissom discovered while picking Ana up from work one night, included the workers’ paychecks.
“Do they always pay you in cash?” asked Grissom casually later, and Ana blinked at him.
“They do,” she said reluctantly. “When I asked, Doug – one of the managers – said that it was a tax thing. Something that helped Affla out. Why?”
“No reason,” said Grissom. “I was just curious.”
And he was curious, wildly so.
Grissom was so curious, in fact, that he decided to take a closer look at Affla Coffee and its employees. Maybe do a little digging. He subtle pumped Ana for information about the coffee house’s money handling policies. And he began to pay very close attention to Ana’s coworkers when he went to visit his Ana in the mornings.
Grissom even began swinging by there at other times to grab a coffee and a snack. While they were there, it was Derek’s job to chat a little with whoever was there, maybe guide the conversation in certain directions.
“Why do I have to be the chatty one?” demanded Derek once, disgruntled.
“Because I’m Ana’s boyfriend,” said Grissom. “I can’t flirt with her coworkers.”
“Flirt?” demanded Derek. “Who said anything about flirting? I was interrogating them. Subtly.”
“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?” teased Grissom, delighted to have the upper hand for once. Usually, it was Derek teasing him.
“This is for work,” said Derek with great dignity.
“So she didn’t give you her number, huh?”
“She already had a boyfriend,” agreed Derek glumly. “But she does use Bream’s Laundry. In fact, she recommends it highly.”
“We’re three for three then,” said Derek, pleased.
So far, through casual conversation, they had tracked down baristas that used the laundry mats and ATMs that marked bills from the kidnapping had turned up at as well as baristas that ate at some of the fast food restaurants at which marked bills had also appeared.
Grissom began paying for his breakfast and afternoon coffee with fifty dollar bills, forcing whoever made his change to give him at least one twenty dollar bill in change. They hadn’t paid him with any marked bills yet, but Grissom hoped that it was just a matter of time.
“Ugh,” groaned Ana one morning. “Another fifty? I can see a twenty right there.”
Grissom grinned. “I need to break it.”
Ana shot him an unfriendly look. “You’re hell on our cash drawer.”
That was exactly what Grissom had been hoping to hear. That same afternoon, they stepped up their game. Grissom and Derek both paid for their lunches with fifty dollar bills. And then they kept it up.
Two days later, they hit pay dirt.
Derek bought his lunch with a fifty dollar bill, and Grissom with a hundred dollar bill. Both of them asked for change in small bills – nothing bigger than a twenty.
The woman behind the cash register, Malory, shot him a very flat look before excusing herself. She disappeared down the short hallway to the right of the counter, reappearing a few minutes later with five crisp twenty dollar bills. Four of those twenties ended up in Grissom’s possession, along with a handful of other bills and change.
Three of those twenties proved to be marked with invisible ink. Their serial numbers were recorded on the list of serial numbers that they had received at the beginning of their investigation.
Looking at the product of all his hard worked, Grissom grinned.
Affla Coffee was definitely the place.
And Ana works there, thought Grissom, quickly sobering.
There was absolutely no way that they could know that he was onto them – he had literally just figured out that the coffee shop was a secret money laundering operation – but Grissom spent the rest of the day alternately arranging the next afternoon’s raid and worrying that something would happen to Ana before she could quit her job.
As soon as he was able, Grissom left work. He went straight to Ana’s apartment, pounding up the stairs to fling open the door.
The door crashed against the wall, startling Ana badly. She dropped her mail and, in his hurry to get to her, Grissom stepped on it.
She was still gaping at him, her pretty face stunned, when he grabbed Ana and pulled her off of her feet. Grissom kissed her thorough, his mouth harsh against her as he claimed every piece of her. He was so grateful that she was all right!
His fierce relief still riding him, Grissom carried his woman off
to bed.
Much, much later, when he had an arm around Ana and Ana was half sprawled across his chest, Grissom asked, “Have you ever considered quitting?”
“Quitting what?” asked Ana sleepily.
“Your job – at Affla Coffee,” said Grissom, and against him, Ana tensed. A lot of the drowsy satiation that had been radiating from her side of their bond abruptly disappeared. Bravely, Grissom forged on, saying, “You could get another job, a better job. Or you could take a few months off and concentrate on your art.”
“I could also starve and become homeless,” scoffed Ana.
“You wouldn’t,” said Grissom, shocked. “We’ll never be that hard up for money.”
“You won’t,” said Ana pointedly. “I don’t have that much in the bank.”
“I could cover your bills and expenses,” Grissom immediately offered. “This place wouldn’t cost much.”
Ana scooted away from Grissom. Holding the sheets over her chest, she sat up – the better to glare down at him.
“It may not cost much,” she spat, her anger roaring down their bond, “but it’s mine. I pay for it with my own money. I’m no one’s kept woman.”
“I’m not trying to keep you,” argued Grissom. He pushed himself upright too. “I’m just trying to keep you safe!”
“Safe from what?” demanded Ana. “Gainful employment?”
“Affla Coffee is a dangerous place run by some very dangerous people, Ana! You have no business working there!” snapped Grissom, his own frustration and anger rising to meet hers. Determinedly, he clamped down on them. More coolly, he said, “Anyway, I don’t see what the big deal is. So what if I float this place for you? I can afford it.”
“But I can’t,” said Ana, and suddenly, there was desperation throbbing through the bond. “I work hard, and I don’t make much money, but I somehow manage to cover my rent, health insurance, and other bills. I even manage to feed myself. I’m not a total disaster. But if I let you start paying my way, I will be. It would be different if you were my husband or even my fiancé, but you’re not. And that’s why I can’t let you do this.”
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