I stop and stare in horror at the publications for sale at the kiosk across from my shop. A siren blares loudly as an ambulance rushes by on the busy city street while I read the headline of Day Magazine. ‘Is Coffee The New Cocaine?’ Next to it a less tactful newspaper has a mug shot of an alien with eyes so wide he looks like a bug, and under him are the words ‘Addicted and Dangerous.’ I can’t decide if I need to vomit or cry, and I turn to fumble with the lock on the door of my coffee shop. It finally clicks open and I retreat inside. I take a shaky breath and inhale the aroma of what I used to call the smell of money. But now the rich odor of coffee is bittersweet, because my business is in peril.

I’ve known for a while that coffee affects some of the aliens we’ve brought to earth more dramatically than it does humans. Once I learned the truth, I created a handout that goes in every shopping bag, warning of the possible agitation and hyperactivity caffeine can induce in some men from planet Eroscia. What I didn’t know until a few days ago is that aliens addicted to caffeine have become a widespread problem.

It’s only been a few months since the Intergalactic Dating Agency created by our government has been available to the public at large, and Greenville City women were thrilled to jump on the chance to find a man. A few years ago the majority of our male population was wiped out by a plague that didn’t affect females. So when planet Eroscia was discovered and we learned their inhabitants were compatible with humans, it didn’t take long before a plan was devised to bring their men to Earth. Now the city is full of newlywed alien men, and apparently a good portion of them have a caffeine problem.

My low heels click over the shiny tile floor as I make my way behind the counter to brew a pot of coffee for my staff. I suppose I should have seen this coming. About a month ago my baristas noticed some aliens had been sneaking in travel mugs and stealing coffee from the serve yourself canisters. The situation prompted me to move them behind the counter, forcing customers to wait for us to pour it instead. We thought that would solve the problem, but then we had a few incidents of aliens shoving their way to the front of the line to get their coffee as if they needed a fix. It made me suspect a few of our Eroscian customers might have a caffeine problem. So, much like bartenders protecting the public from drunk drivers, my staff was instructed to cut off all aliens who exhibited amped-up behavior after one cup. Espresso was banned unless the customer was known to be able to handle his coffee.

A grinder hums as I chop up Ethiopian beans. I’ve called a meeting to let my employees know I’ve decided we will no longer serve aliens until the government informs us of their plans to deal with the problem. It’s a horrible blanket decision that has kept me up for the past few nights, but I refuse to take the chance of something awful happening due to an Eroscian drinking coffee from my establishment. It’s going to be difficult news to deliver to my employees, three of whom are aliens. Matt, Derrick and Ian don’t have a caffeine problem, and I know my decision to no longer serve their race is going to be offensive, but I see no other option.

Water gurgles as I fill the coffee machine’s holding tank, and I flip on the switch to brew. My phone rings, and I grab my purse off the counter to answer it. I groan when I see it’s Mrs. Stevens, the liaison for alien matches. Before my nightmare started, I initiated a match with Oliver82. Once the news broke about the caffeine addiction problem, I begged the woman to delay his arrival for me, and I cross my fingers as I answer the call. “Mrs. Stevens, how nice to hear from you.”

“Morgan. My dear, I did everything I could, but unfortunately I only bought you a couple of days.”

I let out a sigh as I fight to hold back my tears of frustration. “Thank you for what you managed. When will he arrive?”

“Oliver is here. Where shall I deliver him?”

Damn. I reach over and switch the coffee pot for my cup to get some faster. I could refuse to take him, but since I already refused my first pick I’ll lose a ton of money if I do. While the last thing I have time for right now is a relationship, I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to afford another chance at love. Especially if I go out of business. I take a big swig of hot coffee, and it burns my tongue before I swallow it down. “I’m at my shop. You can bring him here.”

“I see.” She lets out a huff of air as if I’m being difficult. “Don’t you think your home would be a better option?”

Pressure builds behind my eyes as a tension headache begins, and I press on the bridge of my nose. “Are you—” I take a deep breath to control the anger that is bubbling in me. Apparently the older woman thinks I’m no better than a drug dealer, and an outburst isn’t going to change her mind. “I’m sorry, but I can’t leave work right now. I assure you, Oliver will not be sampling any coffee.”

“I should hope not.” She lets out a sigh. “We’ll be there in a half hour.”

“Great.” Freaking great. Just in time for my staff meeting. “See you soon.” I manage to force out a thank you before I hang up.

I run Oliver’s profile through my mind. Most of the information provided for the alien matches are filtered through someone hired to write the copy. Often it’s embellished data, but if I can depend on what was written, I know Oliver is a scientist who enjoys card games, documentaries, the theater and a good murder mystery. He’s also an avid runner and looks forward to jogging the city streets.

The coffee machine spits out the last bit of its brew, and I notice I’ve downed my cup. Hot liquid gurgles as I refill my mug, and I wonder how Oliver will like watching my business crumble down around me. I let out a small noise of disgust at my negative attitude and decide to focus on how I’m going to entertain my alien. I think about my friends. Cassie’s probably too busy with her law practice, but I’m sure Jake, Hannah’s new alien husband, would be willing to show him around the city. I’m about to text her when there’s a knock on my door that must be from Oliver since we’re not open yet. That was one quick half hour.

I walk over to let them in. Eroscian men are physically impressive, because by law they’re required to be in top physical condition. I open the door and gaze up at Oliver who stands a few inches over six feet tall, and I’m immediately drawn in by his vibrant green eyes. Another Eroscian feature that makes human women swoon is the way the men’s eyes seem to swirl with life. I make a conscious effort to keep my jaw shut as Mrs. Stevens says, “Oliver, meet Morgan Jenkins.”

He steps inside and offers me his hand. As I take it, Mrs. Stevens says, “Good luck you two,” and she scurries away as if entering my shop would contaminate her. I let out a sigh as I say, “Hi.”

Oliver raises his eyebrows at her quick retreat. “She’s not a fan of the alien invasion?” He grins as he squeezes my fingers. “Hi.”

I smile at his joke. Relief at his easygoing manner softens my mood. “No. It’s me, the evil drug pusher. I assume you’ve heard about the caffeine problem?”

He nods.

“I’m so sorry about this,” I say. “You couldn’t have arrived at a worse time.” I lead him over to the counter and motion for him to sit in a spot where people can’t see him from the window. I don’t want his first day on earth to be affected by anyone who hates aliens.

“I’m more curious than afraid, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I frown as I walk over to the fridge, and my stomach clenches. “I hope you aren’t talking about trying coffee.”

“No,” he’s quick to say.

“Can I offer you some water or herbal tea?” I ask as I squint at him in doubt.

His smile doesn’t waver as he says, “Water would be nice, thank you. I’m intrigued about how quickly a flourishing market such as the coffee industry can crash and burn.”

“Yeah. Interesting.” I roll my eyes, because I have my suspicions. There have been rumors that our president, Courtney Stone, was behind the plague that killed off most of the male population. And it wouldn’t surprise me to discover she’s behind the caffeine issue too. I grimace as my headache breaks through my consciousness.

“What are you going to do?” asks Oliver.

“Survive. I’m not willing to go down easily, and I’m going to do everything I can to keep my business afloat.”

“I’d like to help.”

The look on his face is sincere, but the one thing I’ve learned in life is that if I want something done right, I need to do it myself. Besides, if he’s like all the other aliens I’ve met, his only knowledge of life on earth has been gleaned from TV. I can’t imagine how Oliver thinks he can help. I hand him a cold bottle of water. “That’s very kind of you.” I look down at my phone on the counter and recall that I’d planned to text Hannah to see if she or Jake could come take Oliver for the day. “Excuse me for a moment.” My nails tap on the screen as I finish the message and hit Send. “I’ve asked a friend of mine if her husband could come and show you around the city today. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I’ve got too much to do to take the day off.”

“Of course. I understand completely. I appreciate the gesture, but I meant what I said. I’d like to help you figure out how to save your business.”

My phone dings, and I read Hannah’s reply and say, “Great news. Jake can take you on a city tour this afternoon. I’m sure you’ll enjoy some time with an Eroscian who has already been here for a few weeks.” Oliver’s face falls, and I wonder if he’s one of those guys who thinks he can swoop in on his white horse to fix my life.

“What can I do to help you this morning?”

I definitely have him pegged. I bet Oliver’s ready to roll up his sleeves and show me how everything should be done. But since there isn’t much for him to do otherwise, I ask, “Would you like to sit in on my staff meeting this morning?”

“Sure. That’s a good way for me to get a handle on what you do.” Huh. I think he might have a brain in that gorgeous head. My god, he’s hot. Something tells me keeping him from interfering isn’t going to be as easy as I hoped. It’s not going to work, though. The last thing I need is some man who thinks he knows my business better than I do trying to show me the way. I created a successful business by myself, and if anyone can save the coffee shop, it’s me.

“Great,” I say, and when I smile at Oliver he offers me a killer version of his own. His teeth glisten in what could be a movie star smile, and my chest tightens with the warmth of my attraction to him. He is one sexy guy, and I did pay a lot of money to give him a chance. I shake my head at myself, because he may be gorgeous, but I’m not going to fall for him at the expense of losing control of my career.

When the front door opens, I glance up and notice my manager, Debbie, as she walks in. She does a double take at the sight of Oliver. He stands up and holds out his hand to her as he introduces himself, and she practically swoons in his presence. I sigh as I wonder if I just invited another problem into my life.