Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
She sighed and dropped her clipboard on the counter with a dramatic thud. “That’s the problem. We need promotions, visibility, something! We should start a loyalty card program or themed drinks for the season. What about a ‘Midterms Mocha Madness’ thing? Or drinks featuring cinnamon now that the weather’s getting colder. We need to drive engagement. I made a list of ideas. When you’re done cleaning the counter, we can go through them.”
My headache pulsed. “Zoe,” I said, too flat, too blunt, “you’re trying to market to a crowd that doesn’t exist. We don’t have customers because this shop is practically invisible. We could hand out gold with every latte and still not get traffic. Get a hint, it’s just not going to happen!” I stopped abruptly, shocked at my lack of control.
She blinked, taken aback. “Well, thanks for the support.”
I sighed. “I didn’t mean—”
But her eyes were already welling up, and her lips trembled. “I know this place isn’t perfect, okay? But I’m trying.”
The tears started, and guilt hit hard. “Zoe—”
She shook her head and leaned against the counter, arms crossed tight. “This is my senior project, Mia. My grade. My future. If I can’t show improvement in sales and operations in the next few months, I’m sunk.”
I stepped out from behind the counter, my legs not entirely steady. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. I just—” I paused, searching for words through the fog in my head. “I’m not feeling great today.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “Welcome to the club.”
We stood in awkward silence for a beat before she rubbed her sleeve under her nose and added, “This morning I got another rejection. That’s three now. No internship, no winter placement. Meanwhile, half the students here get handed dream opportunities by their parents like it’s no big deal. I don’t have a mom who’s friends with a celebrity chef. My dad’s not a senator. I just have this stupid coffee shop and a pile of applications nobody’s even reading.”
“Applications for?”
“An internship over the winter holidays. It’s a huge time of the year for the hospitality industry. If I could land the right one, it would increase my job prospects at least twofold. But I can’t find anything.”
My throat tightened. “That sucks,” I said quietly. “You deserve better.”
Zoe gave a small nod, still looking down. “I just… I need this place to work. Not just for the grade, either, but to prove I can do something right. You know?”
“I know,” I whispered, even though I wasn’t sure I really did. My skin felt clammy. “You’re doing the best you can. And I’m sorry I made it sound like it wasn’t enough.”
She looked up at me, and for once, she seemed just like me. A tired, overworked student trying to hold it together.
“I should probably get back to work,” she said, wiping her cheeks.
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “Me too.”
I turned back toward the espresso machine, gripping the counter until my knuckles turned white. The dizziness was back, but worse than that was the feeling that I’d made someone who was already upset feel worse.
Maybe two people, if you counted Cody. This day really sucked.
24
MIA
The knock at my door did nothing to diminish the pounding in my head. “Come in,” I said automatically. At my last foster home, I hadn’t been allowed to ever lock my door, so I often forgot to.
Not that I felt I needed to here.
Diego poked his head into the room.
Crap. Maybe I was going to have to rethink my door-locking policy.
I pushed myself up and leaned against the headboard, pulling the covers up to my chest. It was so cold in here.
“Can I come in?” Diego asked. His voice was hesitant.
“It’s really not a good time,” I began.
“Cody called. He said you weren’t feeling well.”
Oh. My head hurt too much to focus on that. I gestured for Diego to enter. He did, carefully leaving the door wide open as he took a few steps forward, as if I might bite him or something.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Just tired. It’s a busy time of the semester.”
“You look pale.” His dark eyes studied me relentlessly. “And also somehow flushed at the same time.”
Great. Just what I wanted when I wasn’t feeling well—a critique of my looks by a guy who’d had a full-blown freakout when he’d realized I was the woman he kissed. “Look, Diego, I really don’t think—wait, Cody called you?”
“He was worried.”
I couldn’t quite wrap my aching head around that. “Cody talks to people on the phone?”
“He does now, apparently.” Finally, Diego looked away. “Do you need to go to the student health center?”
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m just tired.”
He jerked his head to the right. “In that closet by the bathroom, there are thermometers, painkillers, cold medicine, and, uh, pregnancy tests.”
My jaw dropped as both embarrassment and shock hit. I took to bed during the middle of the day one time, and that was where his mind went? “Pretty safe to say I can rule out that last one,” I said to the top of his head because he was carefully studying the floor. Not that it was any of his business, but I was feeling too crappy to choose my words carefully.