Page 1 of By Any Beans Necessary

Chapter One

The Coffee Loft hummed with the early morning rush, the scent of dark roast and cinnamon teasing the air. Above the chatter, the espresso machine hissed a steamy serenade while Michelle Kenney flitted between customers like a sunshine yellow butterfly among flowers. Her laughter danced above the clink of cups, her blonde bob bouncing to the rhythm of her movements as she continued to serve up smiles and cappuccinos.

"Morning, John. The usual?" she chirped, sliding a steaming mug across the counter to a bleary-eyed regular. He grunted an affirmative, his smile creeping in as he took his first life-affirming sip.

"Best part of waking up," John mumbled, tipping his hat before shuffling off to his corner nook.

"Isn't it just?" Michelle agreed, though her own eyes betrayed a weariness that no amount of caffeine could mask. She poured another cup, the warm porcelain familiar in her grasp, but her mind was elsewhere—stuck on last night's disastrous date.

"Another one bites the dust, huh?" teased Emily, her part-time barista, as she caught Michelle’s eye from behind the coffee grinder.

"Ugh, don't remind me." Michelle forced out a chuckle, leaning against the counter. "I swear my dating profile must have 'hopeless' stamped across it."

"Or 'adventurous enough to experiment with potential disasters,'" Emily quipped, delivering an Americano to a waiting customer.

"Ha, that's one way to put it." Michelle rolled her hazel eyes, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The bell above the door jingled, announcing another patron seeking refuge in her caffeinated haven.

"Welcome to The Coffee Loft," she called out reflexively, her smile back in place like a well-worn mask. The new arrival nodded, eyes glued to their phone, as they joined the queue.

"Maybe I should just become a hermit. Start a new trend, single and definitely not ready to mingle." She grabbed a rag, wiping down the already pristine counter with more vigor than necessary.

"Or you could start collecting cats now, get ahead of the curve," Emily suggested, earning herself an exaggerated groan from Michelle.

"Thanks, but I'll stick to coffee beans, not feline beings," Michelle retorted, tossing the rag aside and preparing for the next order.

"Good choice. You're more of a people person anyway," Emily smiled, and Michelle couldn't help but return it, genuine warmth seeping back into her weary bones.

"Can't argue with that," she admitted, then winked. "Now, let's turn these grumps into morning people, one cup at a time."

"Roger that, boss." Emily saluted playfully before turning her attention to the next customer in line.

Michelle took a deep breath, letting the rich aroma of coffee grounds anchor her. Maybe her romantic escapades were less romcom and more cautionary tale, but here, within these walls,she was the queen of her domain, serving joy one latte at a time. For now, that was all the love affair she needed.

As the early morning rush continued, the Coffee Loft was a symphony of clinking mugs and the murmur of morning conversations. However, it did little to keep Michelle's mind from returning to her disastrous date from the night before. She poured another cappuccino, the frothy heart atop the dark brew mocking her own love life. The guy from last night – what was his name again? Ryan? Ronan? – had been a walking disaster in human form, believing he was some kind of reincarnated Viking. Complete with a braided beard and all.

"Hey, Michelle, you've got that look again," Emily teased from behind the espresso machine. "Rethinking about starting your cat collection again?"

Michelle chuckled despite the sting of truth in her friend's jest. "I might be one bad date away from adopting a whole litter."

"Spinsterhood isn't for you. You make too good a cup of joe to ever be left on the shelf." Emily winked, handing over the next coffee order.

"Thanks, Emily. But if I am destined for it, I'll revolutionize it. I’ll start a blog, 'Diaries of a Dateless Barista.'"

"Ha, I'd subscribe to that." Emily chuckled, then turned to greet the next customer.

As Michelle handed over a black coffee to Mr. Henderson, she heard the familiar, boisterous voice of Mrs. Shomacker punctuate the air from the back of the line.

"Can you believe it? Jeff Parker, of all people," Mrs. Shomacker's tone carried a mix of scandal and relish.

"Jeff Parker? The bartender from The Rusty Hinge?" her friend, Mrs. Balster, questioned with disbelief.

Michelle’s grip on the ceramic mug tightened, curiosity piqued despite herself. Still, she remained mute, knowing shedidn't have anything nice to say about the man. He'd bruised her ego plenty when he burned her badly a year ago.

"Yep, that Jeff," Mrs. Shomacker said, loud enough for neighboring towns to hear. "Apparently, he’s turning over a new leaf, starting with investing in a more respectable career."

"Turning over a new leaf," Michelle muttered under her breath with a frown and a shake of her head. Jeff Parker–Hero’s most notorious commitment dodger of anything serious–was, as far as she knew, only good at leaving a trail of exasperations and eye-rolls in his wake.

"Michelle, dear, did you hear about Jeff?" Mrs. Shomacker now stood before her, eyes gleaming with the juicy tidbit.

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