The café door swung open with a jingle, and Ethan strolled in, his new apron already slung over one shoulder. "Surprised, huh?" He grinned, leaning against the counter like he owned the place.
Stacy crossed her arms. "I guess I am. And you better know—I'm your senior here. You listen to me. Got it?"
"Yes, ma'am. Copy that." He winked, and Stacy felt her cheeks heat up.
She cleared her throat, turning toward the espresso machine. "Okay, so this is the—"
"Wait." Ethan held up a hand, his smirk widening. "Let me show you how I handle customers first."
Stacy's jaw tightened. Who did he think he was? But before she could protest, Ethan had already turned to greet the next customer—a frazzled-looking woman with a screaming toddler.
"One vanilla latte, extra foam, and…" Ethan crouched down to the kid's eye level, producing a tiny chocolate chip cookie from his pocket. "A bribe for the toughest job in the house."
The mom nearly cried with gratitude. The kid stopped mid-scream, stuffing the cookie into his mouth.
Stacy stared. How the hell did he—?
"Told you I had skills," Ethan murmured as he slid past her to grab a cup.
"Beginner's luck," Stacy muttered, but her irritation was already crumbling
For the next hour, Stacy watched in silent, seething awe as Ethan:
Rememberedevery regular's order by heart. Juggledthree drinks at once without spilling a drop. Charmeda group of college girls into tipping 30%.
"How am I doing?" Ethan asked during a rare lull, wiping his hands on his apron.
Stacy bit her lip. "Good. But not that good."
"Understood… maybe." He grinned.
She exhaled. "Okay, fine. I'm impressed."
Ethan's eyes lit up. "Thank you. All I needed today was your compliment, lady."
"I hate you," she said, swatting his shoulder.
"Ow. Abuse from my superior. HR's gonna hear about this."
From the pastry case, Josh groaned. "If you two lovebirds are done, we've got actual work to do."
They broke apart, laughing, but Stacy's pulse hadn't gotten the memo.
Then she walked in.
Tall, blonde, and dressed like she'd stepped out of a rom-com, the woman leaned over the counter, her smile sharp. "I didn't know baristas could be this cute, huh?"
Ethan chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, thanks. What can I get you?"
"Your number, for starters."
Stacy's grip on the milk pitcher tightened. "Ma'am," she cut in, her voice sweet as poisoned syrup, "this is a café, not your personal flirting house. If you want to hit on someone, try the sidewalk. You're holding up the line."
The woman blinked, then snatched her latte with a huff.
"Damn." Ethan whistled. "Someone's jealous."
"Blah blah blah. Shut up and steam the milk."
But Ethan just grinned, leaning closer. "You know, if you wanted me all to yourself, you could've just asked."
"SHUT UP."
The bell jingled like a warning.
Every head turned as the girl in the gray hoodie stepped inside. Straight hair, sharp chin, eyes locked onto Ethan like a predator.
Ethan's mug slipped from his hand. Espresso exploded across the floor like a bloodstain.
"Luna," he breathed.
Stacy's stomach dropped. So this was her.
Luna sauntered up to the counter, ignoring the sticky mess at Ethan's feet. "Excuse me, Mister." Her voice was syrup over broken glass.
Ethan's knuckles whitened around the rag. "Y-ye— What can I… get you?"
"'Get me'?" Luna's laugh was a door slamming shut. "Oh, babe. We're really doing this?" She flicked a glance at Stacy. "With her watching?"
Stacy's nails bit into her palms. "Order or leave."
Luna's smile vanished. "I wasn't talking to you, skank."
"He's not your babe." Stacy stepped forward, the counter the only thing between them. "And this isn't your playground."
"You know nothing about us—"
"ENOUGH." Ethan slammed his hands down. "Luna, you're harassing staff. Leave."
Silence.
Luna's lips trembled. "You're… choosing her?"
"I'm choosing what's right." he hissed.
"After everything?", Luna said while sobbing.
"Especially after everything", Said Ethan.
A tear streaked Luna's cheek.
Then Stacy called Luna from behind "Hey , Luna"
Before she could understand what Stacy was trying to say, The slap cracked like a whip.
Luna's head snapped to the side. The café held its breath.
"That's for disrespecting me," Stacy said, her voice steady. "And this place."
Luna touched her reddening cheek and sobbed harder.
"Now ,get out"
With a sob, Luna fled.
Ethan grabbed Stacy's shaking wrist. "You okay?"
She wasn't. Her heart threatened to crack her ribs.
Then—he pulled her in.
His hug was warm. Solid. Like an anchor in a storm.
Stacy buried her face in his apron, inhaling coffee and regret.
It felt like heaven in his warm hug to Stacy that time.