* Alice *

It’s bright and early when I head down to my little coffee shop right on Teddington High Street. Although the morning is still young when I open the shutter and unlock the front entrance, I can already tell it’s going to be unseasonably warm for September.

It’s just going to be me for a while, in my quiet little corner in West London. Until Amber and Richard come in to start working on his next novel, that is. Ever since Amber moved out of my flat once the two of them became an item, they’ve been taking their own sweet time getting ready in the morning. Not like before, when she’d walk down with me, and he’d show up minutes after opening.

I can’t blame them. They’re in love. They’re happy.

I wish I had that. Over the span of this calendar year, every single one of my friends has found love, and as a result, pulled away. Amber is the only one I even see anymore on the regular, whereas we all used to meet every single Saturday before. How on earth am I the last one left waiting on the sidelines while cheering everyone on? Oh, the irony…

But I do enjoy having a moment to myself every morning while setting things up for the day to come. I inhale deeply and enjoy the familiar aroma of coffee beans and cinnamon that permanently seems to cling to the place. My own little refuge from the real world. Well, for all intents and purposes, it’s mine. I might technically just work here, but as the coffee shop’s one and only permanent employee, I still get to be my own boss.

I take a moment to appreciate the little haven I’ve created here. The boss has always been hands-off and absent. He just pays the bills, including my salary, and leaves the rest of the day-to-day affairs to me. As a result, everything you see—from the decor to the menu—has been my doing. Coffee to the Rescue, indeed, I tell myself while switching on the espresso machine and preparing the day’s first brew.

I’m just lifting the cup to my lips, while scanning the quirky yet cozy interior of the cafe for any outstanding jobs that need doing this morning, when the door chime sounds behind me.

“You guys are up early today!” I turn around with a wide smile on my face, only to pause when I spot a stranger at the door. Tall and husky, with salt & pepper hair, and handsome enough to have just walked off the set of a TV show. He looks strangely familiar, even if I can’t place him just yet.

“Sorry?” he asks.

“Oh, excuse me, I thought—Never mind. What can I get you on this fine Monday morning?”

He looks up at me with one raised eyebrow, clearly not in the mood for small talk. “Cappuccino,” he replies in a gruff voice.

I suppress a smile. Okay then, Mr. Grumpy Pants. “Well, you’ve come to the right place for that.” I do take my coffee very seriously, though maybe not as seriously as he seems to take himself.

He grunts in response, but I refuse to let his moodiness get to me. I recognize the type. He’s probably just not a morning person. Or he’s got some important meeting lined up at work, which he’s stressing about. In any case, I’m not taking it personally.

“Takeaway or having it here?” I ask.

“Takeaway.”

I don’t bother to ask for the size or if he wants any flavors or add-ons. He doesn’t seem the type to appreciate more questions. As I make his drink, I catch myself stealing glances at him while he’s inspecting the cafe’s interior. What’s his story? He’s in his forties, maybe even nearing fifty. And he has an air about him that suggests he’s used to being in charge. He’s solid and built for strength as well as comfort, the way he fills out that white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up halfway up those thick forearms… Here’s a guy who could absolutely dominate me without breaking a sweat. Swoon. The only thing gentle about him is the pale green of his eyes and the fullness of his lips.

Who the hell is he? I’ve seen this face somewhere and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t here. I never forget a customer.

When I hand him his coffee, he pays for it without saying a word. But before he walks out the door, he turns to me and says, “I’m sorry, I’m not much of a morning person.”

“Well, that’s why it’s called Coffee to the Rescue.”

“Sorry, what?”

“The name of the shop. Coffee to the Rescue.” I point at the cursive lettering on the wall behind me. He really doesn’t have a sense of humor, which tickles me even more for some reason. Still, I do my best to suppress the wide grin that’s itching to appear on my face.

“Ah.” He pauses for a moment, then surprises me with the briefest of smiles, revealing a row of perfectly white teeth to match the rest of his well polished appearance. And that’s enough to nearly knock the wind out of me.

“That’s clever.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, still rattled by how much his smile affected me.

He nods and raises his cup at me before walking out the door. I think I spot a twinkle in his eye as he does so, which gets my heart racing some more. Well, that was weird. And where have I seen this hunky wardrobe of a man before? I finally take a sip of my now lukewarm coffee to calm my nerves.

That’s when the door chimes again, and Amber and Richard appear.

“Alice, was that who I thought it was, leaving the shop just now?” Amber asks me, wide-eyed and out of breath.

“Huh?”

Richard smiles warmly at me. “Good morning, Alice.”
“Morning,” I mumble. “I’m sorry, was that who?”