Chapter Text
7:30 AM in Hugs ‘n Mugs. The lo-fi hip hop was playing and the coffee beans had just been refilled: Fareeha tied her apron around her waist and with that she was ready to start another day. She loved the scent of roasted beans that always wafted through the shop when she had put new beans in the machine, the first rays of sunlight shining through the street, dipping the shop in a warm yellow glow, the trees along the side of the road slowly turning yellow and losing their leaves one by one. It was Fareeha’s favorite time of day. As per usual, customers started dropping by, some grabbing a quick cup to-go before work and others staying a little longer to read the morning paper and have breakfast. The mornings were hectic but she managed; her experience kept her on her feet. Once the first thirty minutes of rush-hour were over, Fareeha cleared the chalkboard next to the counter and wrote the new weekly specials down with a piece of chalk.
The bell rang indicating someone had just entered, and Fareeha turned around with her usual “Good morning, how can I help you?” when she saw the one customer that always managed to warm her heart and made her mornings – no matter how hectic – that much more bearable. Fareeha knew her name and her order off the top of her head by now: it was easy enough to remember such an angelic-looking woman as ‘Angela’. Her soft and short, blonde hair was still partially locked in bed-head-mode and she carried the laptop bag she always had with her when she visited Hugs ‘n Mugs.
“I’ll have the usu—” Angela paused, letting her gaze roll over the chalkboard with the weekly specials. She then shook her head and turned to the barista again. “The usual, please.” There was a tiny accent clinging to the words, not intrusive but still noticeable. Fareeha thought it was German but she could be wrong. She wasn’t familiar with many different accents.
“To stay or to go?” Fareeha found herself stammering slightly.
“To stay.” It was the same answer as always: Angela didn’t carry that bag around for nothing. Usually when she came in, she started working on her laptop as soon as she received her order. Today was probably no different.
Fareeha wrote down the usual order for Angela and got to work. Grinding up beans and releasing that delicious scent into the air, steaming the milk until it was foamy, two pumps of rich dark chocolate syrup into the tall glass, then the milk, the coffee itself with the extra espresso shot, trying to make a pretty pattern with the milk and failing miserably and then serving it with a tiny cookie. “Here you go,” said Fareeha, handing over Angela’s order over the counter.
“Danke.” That beautiful language Fareeha knew nothing about… the more she heard Angela speak it, the more she wanted to learn more about it. Angela sat down at the long, wooden table towards the back and unpacked her bag to start working.
Every time she saw her sitting like that, Fareeha’s heart was sent aflutter with curiosity: what was she working on underneath the light of the industrial lamps? So concentrated, so focused, only stopping her rapid typing every once in a while to have a sip of her drink and then it was back to work again. Fareeha had seen it dozens of times.
There were more customers that needed serving and Fareeha tore her gaze away from Angela to mind her own business again. A Frappuccino, caramel macchiato, then a cappuccino. Double espresso – the guy who ordered looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Chai latte with cinnamon for a girl carrying a hefty bag of books. Someone who ‘only’ wanted a batch of twenty-three triple chocolate cookies (she was very specific about that and when Fareeha told her she only had fifteen cookies ready the customer lost her marbles and left the shop). Fareeha got the orders ready one by one but took the liberty of peeking at Angela’s focused state of being. A sudden pang of fear shot through her gut.
What if Angela thought she was being creepy, or looked down on her for just being the barista? No, now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Fareeha had to stay focused and get her job done. There were more people to serve. She had felt anxious about it before but Angela still came by with a friendly smile every morning so she couldn’t dislike Fareeha that much, right?
Around 9 AM, the biggest rush was over and Fareeha had a little breathing space. Refill the coffee machines, clean up, make new sandwiches and paninis and get some fresh cookies from the storage. Fetch some more milk cartons. The caramel syrup pump was empty so Fareeha replaced it. Then she heard the voice she had grown to like so much over the weeks.
“Could I please get a refill?”
Fareeha looked over her shoulder and nodded. “Sure thing! Same drink?”
The blonde looked at the chalkboard once more, clearly conflicted with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. “I’m… in the mood for something new today. Anything you’d recommend?”
Fareeha looked at the menu and pondered the many options. Her heart started beating faster in her chest: if she were to impress Angela with a great drink, it had to be something she really loved. With the first leaves of fall making their descent to the ground, maybe something seasonal would do. “What about the Autumn Latte? It’s basically a Pumpkin Spice but less overpriced and personally, I prefer this one. Tastes less like chemicals.”
Angela’s eyes widened a little and she flashed a smile. “I’ll have that, then!” She quickly thanked the barista for allowing her to stay in the coffee shop that long and returned to her seat.
It was a split-second decision, something completely impulsive: after preparing Angela’s second order of the day Fareeha wrote down her phone number on a memo and put it underneath the glass. Her cheeks burned, she trembled slightly but she still felt like now was the perfect time. Maybe she could throw in an extra cookie, you know, because Angela was such a loyal customer, yes, that had to do.
Angela saw the drink was done and came to pick it up but her eyes weren’t on the note at all. She did thank Fareeha for the extra cookie, who stuttered how it was no big deal and how Angela deserved it for being such a loyal patron to the shop. Once the blonde had returned to her seat, Fareeha kept a close eye on her in case she picked up the note. She served some customers here and there and made sure the workplace stayed clean, but even when Angela started packing up her bag and making preparations to leave there was no visible evidence that she had noticed Fareeha’s phone number.
The barista’s heart sank. All that courage for nothing?
Angela threw on her coat and walked to the counter to pay, all while wearing a rather playful smile on her face. “Thanks for everything.”
“See you tomorrow, Angela.” Fareeha did her very best to force a smile in return.
“Perhaps not tomorrow,” Angela said, once again dashing Fareeha’s hope. However, that’s when she held up the memo and grinned. “What about tonight instead?”