Jilly walked around and checked out the serving area. “No problem. I can work the machines.” After two summers working at a coffeehouse in Portland, she knew her way around an espresso machine and a steaming wand. “Have a seat while I make it.”
She filled the silver coffee filter, pulled a shot and then went to work on the steamed milk, efficient and precise. The girl looked surprised at the frothy milk design that Jilly poured over the top of her drink.
“Wow, that looks great. You should teach Jonathan that. He always has problems with that new espresso machine.” The girl pulled some froth onto her finger and licked it thoughtfully. “Wow,” she said again.
The front doorbell chimed but Jilly barely noticed as she finished cleaning the small filter, rinsed the milk wand and leaned down to check the heat level on the boiler. Nothing ruined fresh beans faster than high heat or a bad grind.
She heard a man clear his throat. “Is anyone here? Jonathan?”
Jilly shoved back her hair. The air seemed dense, too heavy to breathe. She was painfully afraid that she was blushing as she turned and saw the tall man by the counter with the well-behaved brown dog right beside him.
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