Chapter 5
Faith
I'd stacked books in front of my digital clock. It was impossible to tell what time it was but, even though it was still dark, I assumed morning would still come too soon. The thought of curling back up in bed usually followed me around half the morning, but I felt different. I was energized and my head was buzzing with ideas.
By the time I had stretched, grabbed a sweatshirt, and wandered over to my kitchen, I was wide awake and it was only four in the morning. I bumped my hip against the counter and stood still. Did I really want to be awake?
That's when a stray remnant of my dreams hit.
The coffee shop was a microcosm of business practices, and I suddenly knew how to create a menu for my own business that would launch key products.
I scrambled to find a working pen. The first one had dried out during my long study session the night before. I raced to the hook by my apartment door and dug into my coffee shop apron for the pen I always kept on hand. I scribbled my inspiration on the back of a discarded drink receipt.
I liked how the crinkled piece of paper showed both sides of my life: working at the coffee shop and my future business dreams. I folded it carefully and tucked it into my bra. I wanted to feel the comforting presence of a brighter future with me all day.
In only a few short hours, I would be pulling another double shift at the coffee shop before studying far into the night.
Just the thought made me yawn and I turned toward my bed one more time.
"No. Gotta study," I muttered out loud as I trudged to the kitchen and made myself a strong cup of black coffee.
I sat down at my table but pressed as far back in my chair as I could. I wasn't ready to dive into all the specifics and numbers and reasons my business would most likely fail in the first three years. I wanted to savor my dream just a little bit longer.
I wanted to create a neighborhood bakery that offered necessities as well as specialities. Yes, there would be fancy cakes and frosted cookies and little puff pastries decorated with delicate sugar art. But I also wanted to offer loaves of bread for those busy families that were always out of something. Sandwiches for lunch on the run, and chicken pot pies for quick and easy dinners. All sourced from local suppliers and run by people in the nearby communities. A real neighborhood establishment.
Now all I needed was a store front.
On reflex, my hands reached for my unopened mail. It was never long before my fingers itched to be doing something. That was why I liked the coffee shop job; it kept me moving while my mind digested everything I was trying to learn and do.
The pleasant flow of my thoughts was interrupted as I focused on the first piece of mail. Bright red figures stood out across the top.
The blood drained from my fingertips and I slumped farther down in my chair.
I only had a few months left of my business classes. Until then I couldn't approach investors about my idea. And I was stuck scraping together every penny just to keep the lights on.
My eyes felt dry and tired. Too tired to tear up anymore. It had been a long time since I had anyone to share my burdens with, much less my ever-encroaching bills.
Not that my last roommate had supported me mentally or financially.
A flicker of righteous anger started and I fanned it. When I was worn out and on the edge of not believing in myself, I found a little anger could drive me forward until I was back up to speed.
And Jake deserved it.
I crumpled the bill into one tight fist. I had never wanted to punch anyone until that last week of living with my ex-boyfriend.
Ex-fiancé. I cringed as I corrected myself.
It was a small comfort knowing I wouldn't have to face any enormous wedding bills right out of business school. The very next day after Jake had walked out, I calculated I saved over forty dollars. Without his subtle demands for groceries, booze, or the latest apps for his outrageously unnecessary cell phone, my budget just about stretched to cover me.
Or it would once I took on a few more double-shifts.
And thank god Jake hadn't gone for my idea of long-distance; the gas money alone would have ruined me. As it was, I walked to work and hadn't been out of the city for months. I thanked my lucky stars that Jake was in Connecticut and well away from anywhere I might accidentally run into him.
I scrubbed both hands over my face and pushed away from the table. I took a deep breath and exhaled all the painful memories and angry thoughts. If I hurried, I still had time to shower before work. I'd even have time to try that new top knot in my hair.
Toying with the idea of a new hairstyle reminded me of a cheek-searing scene from my dreams. I don't know who he was, but it had been one helluva kiss.
That was the boost I needed to get going. Now that Jake was long gone, I was finally free to think about meeting someone new. I had been so focused on school that the thought of dating, much less being intimate, had been shoved aside. It was a thrill to feel it come back on its own.
Maybe things were finally changing for the better.
*****
I was still fiddling with my new hairstyle when I came out of the bathroom. My elbow hit the stack of books in front of my digital clock and tumbled to the floor.
"No way!" I shrieked.
After getting up so early, the entire morning had somehow gotten away from me. My chest constricted at the thought of being late, but I still felt good. It had been a long time since I had put some care and effort into my appearance. Too bad it would be wasted by the time I ran the last few blocks in order to get to work on time.
I raced down my apartment stairwell and skidded into the foyer. Then I swore out loud and ran back up the steps. Not only had I scheduled myself for a double-shift, but it was my night to tutor at the community college. It was only a few extra bucks but after the bottom line on my bills that morning, I couldn't afford to pass up any work.
I jogged down the stairs again and said a few breathless hellos to my neighbors. They nodded back and went about their mornings at the leisurely pace of people already settled in their careers.
"I'll get there. I'll get there." I repeated the words like a mantra as I picked up my pace and trotted down the city blocks to work.
As soon as I saw the coffee shop's bright awning, I slowed down to a brisk walk. That gave me enough time to glance in the picture windows of the neighboring stores and try to fix my new hairstyle. I tightened the knot and smoothed back the wispy hairs that curled around my forehead and face. I even took a second to smear on a little tinted lip balm.
My feet flew over the sidewalk until I came to crosswalk directly across from the coffee shop. A black car cruised past and then slipped into a prime parking spot with one effortless backwards maneuver. I would have admired the parking job if my stomach wasn’t busy doing belly flops.
What was his name? Brenden.
I recognized the sharply-dressed driver with his close-clipped hair, and knew the man I had met the day before was already in line.
Was that why I had taken the time to style my hair? I hadn't worn mascara for weeks because I was constantly rubbing my eyes in a desperate effort to stay awake over my classwork at night. I blinked and hoped I hadn’t smudged it on my sprint to work.
Then I slipped around to the alley and sneaked in the back door to the coffee shop.
"I don't care that you're late, just that you're here," Cheryl snapped. "We've got a line to the door. Got your apron?"
I nodded and shrugged off my jacket to reveal I was already wearing my barista apron. Cheryl didn't expect employees to launder them, but I always took my home because it was easier that sorting out all my scribbled notes at work. I didn't want anyone to know about my business ambitions until they were within my grasp.
"Sorry." I dodged past Cheryl and took my place near the register.
"Thank god," Tiffany said. "I've got to get to school. I'm super behind as it is."
"I know the feeling," I said.
"Whatever's good and strong," the next customer said. He turned back to his companion and continued their conversation. "So, yeah, I'd give this place about a six in terms of attractive women."
"Just a six?" his friend asked.
I jolted and was glad neither of the men noticed. "Would you like your usual order?"
Brenden, the handsome man from the day before, craned his head over his friend's shoulder and nodded. "Hey, new girl. You remember it?"
"With extra sprinkles, right?" I asked.
"Seriously, Brenden, there's this chick in the corner with the sexiest pout. Maybe she's hungover and needs a little TLC. Or hair of the dog. What do you think?"
"I think you should pay for coffee, Darin," Brenden said.
His friend swung back to me and tipped his head as he checked over my new hairstyle. "Kinda works. Cute enough to tip."
I frowned as he shoved a miserly tip into the jar on the counter. "Will there be anything else?"
"Oh, now here we go. Here's someone you've just got to meet," Darin said. He circled around a woman waiting for her drink farther down the counter. "Have you met my friend Brenden? Brenden, this is. . . What did you say your name was?"
The striking woman with silky black hair giggled. "I'm Anya."
"Anya. Did you hear that, Brenden? Beautiful name for a beautiful woman." Darin took her hand and led her along the counter to Brenden.
"Is she?" Brenden asked.
I was surprised to find he was still facing me. "You're asking me?"
"I'm putting my faith in you," Brenden said.
I wondered if that was his way of telling me he remembered my name, then I realized it was just his way of drawing the pretty woman closer.
Anya stepped up to his side and flipped her hair back over one shoulder. "How about you ask me? I'm a writer and very good at descriptions," she purred.
I choked back a groan and tried to concentrate on their coffee drinks.
Brenden lingered near my section of the counter and, every now and then, tipped his head in my direction as if checking that I was still there. I thought maybe he was waiting to talk with me, but his friend and the flirtatious Anya kept interrupting.
What did I care?
He was obviously in the coffee shop without his horrible girlfriend and was taking the opportunity to flirt with anything that moved.
"Ouch!" I sloshed the hot coffee and a few droplets burned the back of my hand.
"Are you okay?" Brenden turned toward my yelp.
"Oh, you're so sweet," Anya cooed.
"I'm fine," I said tightly. I put their drinks on the counter and turned away to rinse cool the burn in the hand washing sink.
What was wrong with me?
Just because I'd felt the urge to style my hair and put on a little make-up did not mean my dating luck was automatically going to change. Jake had told me he was the best I was going to get right before he broke off our engagement and walked out of my life. It was going to take more than a little mascara to turn that kind of luck around.
Besides, I was busy. By the time I turned back to the counter, there was an impatient line of customers. Brenden lingered until he heard me take the next order, but I brushed that aside. I would be better off keeping my head down until school was done and I had something better to do than wish for some silly little romance.