Page 101 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

I glance over at Hank and Gabe, who are in line watching us with raised eyebrows. Gabe’s expression is especially knowing, as if he can guess exactly what we’re discussing.

“Keep your voice down,” I whisper, feeling my face heat up again. “It’s not like that. Well, not always like that.”

Malia’s grin widens impossibly further. “Which one’s more dominant? Gabe looks like he’d be intense, but Hank has that quiet authority thing going on.”

“I am not having this conversation in the middle of a coffee shop,” I say, but I can’t help the small laugh that escapes me.

It feels good to have a girlfriend to talk to about this, even if Malia is as subtle as a freight train.

“Fine, fine. But we’re definitely finishing this later,” she says, wagging a finger at me. “With wine. Lots of wine.”

“So, what brings you to my humble establishment?” Malia asks, glancing between me and my two companions. “Besides the obvious caffeine desperation.”

“Looking for Mitzy, actually,” I explain. “Skye said she might be here.”

“Usually is, but not today. Some security system glitch has her holed up in her lair,” Malia replies. “I can text her if it’s urgent?”

“It can wait,” I decide. “I just need to talk to her.”

“Oh! I haven’t finished showing you everything.” She points to another drink on the board, shifting back to barista mode but with a conspiratorial wink. “Delta Determination—cold brew with orange zest and brown sugar. No nonsense, gets the job done.” She leans closer again. “Echo Enigma is my personal favorite, though—white chocolate and blackberry with a hint of rosemary. Unexpected combination, but it works.”

I furrow my brow. “Echo? There’s no Echo team, is there?”

She glances around quickly to make sure no one is listening. She leans in even closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Well, not yet. But there are whispers that Forest is creating something called ‘Guardian Angels’—an all-female undercover operative team.” Her words tumble out in an excited rush. “Top secret. Super elite. They’ll work deep cover missions that the regular teams can’t touch.”

“Are you serious?” I ask, caught between skepticism and intrigue.

“Deadly.” She nods emphatically. “I’ve overheard things. The men don’t always notice me when they’re grabbing coffee, and I’ve got good ears.” She taps the side of her head. “They’re selecting candidates now. Women with very specific skill sets.” Her eyes sparkle with excitement. “Can you imagine? It’s about time they utilized female operatives properly.”

Her energy is a whirlwind, pulling me into her orbit as she moves from one creation to the next.

“I’ve been experimenting with some newblends, too,” she continues, opening jars of coffee beans for me to smell. “This Ethiopian Yirgacheffe has notes of blueberry and chocolate. And the Indonesian Sumatra? Earthy, spicy, with incredible body.”

From the line, Hank says something that makes Gabe’s attention shift, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

Malia lowers her voice conspiratorially as she begins making a drink. “Dayum! Those two—” she nods toward Hank and Gabe, “—have barely taken their eyes off you. Talk about heat…”

I lower my voice, feeling heat rise to my cheeks at Malia’s insinuation as she prepares drinks beside me. “We’re not talking about them—at least not here.” I lower my voice and whisper the last part.

The line moves fast, and Hank and Gabe approach the counter to order.

Hank orders first. “I’ll take a double Americano, extra shot.”

“Quad vanilla latte, half-sweet, oat milk,” Gabe adds.

Malia rolls her eyes. “Of course, you would have the complicated order,” she tells Gabe. “Ally?”

“Just regular coffee,” I say, feeling overwhelmed by the options. “Black is fine.”

“Black coffee coming up for the woman of simple tastes who keeps complicated company,” Malia teases, backing toward the counter. “Find a table if you can—I’ll bring these over when they’re ready.”

Hank and Gabe leave us alone, navigating through the crowd, eventually finding a small table tucked in a corner near a window. It’s slightly removed from the chaos but offers a view of the entire shop. Hank automatically sits facing the door while Gabe positions himself to watch the broken espresso machine and its technician.

The coffee shop door swings open with a jingle, and a whirlwind of color and energy bursts in.

“Ally! THERE you are!” A woman approaches with psychedelic hair, studying me with keen interest.

---