Page 10 of The Hampton Beach Café 2
“Coffee?” she asked Clarkson. “I need to learn how to use this machine anyway.”
She was already walking towards the café set up when his affirmative answer came.
To Hayley:Hi Hayley, sorry for the random add––I know it's been a long time. I was visiting my mom recently, and something reminded me of you, and it prompted me to get in touch. How have you been?
The swooshing sound her phone made whenever she sent a message made her glare at the thing––it felt strange to announce to everyone around her that she was talking to someone, but she could never pinpoint why it made her so uncomfortable.
“Coffee would be great,” Clarkson said, crossing the room to follow her.
Setting herself up in front of the machine, Frances ran through the checklist she had set out for anyone who would be working as the barista. She still had to decide if Vince would be on that list at all. He was a fantastic artist and had provided a lot of the high-end coffee-making equipment, but his coffee-making skills hadn't improved all that much since she had first encountered him all those weeks ago.
Tapping the grinder button and counting the seconds as freshly ground coffee poured into the basket, she thought back on those weeks––her life had changed so much and so quickly. She gone from a highly motivated and influential multi-national corporate risk manager and consultant to a grumpy coffee shop owner in just over a month.
Clarkson was chattering away––something about a new acquisition he'd gotten about an hour away. Didn't real estate agents usually have a really narrow territory? Did they call it a territory? Frances shook her head and returned to the making of the coffee. A message popped up, Hayley.
From Hayley:Hi! Omg, it IS you! When I saw the friend request come in, I was like no way! It's been so long. What are you up to these days?
She winced as she read it. What was she up to? Getting divorced, making split-second investment decisions, and trying to figure out what her best friend was hiding from her? Yikes.
To Hayley:just moved back to Hampton Beach for a while, and own a coffee shop and art gallery now. You?
The portafilter clicked into the grooves under the machine, and she flipped the heater switch over. Ten seconds and she would be ready to go. She placed two mugs under the spouts and counted down to the light switching off––she really wanted to get this routine down pat.
Ping!
From Hayley:that's so cool. I've moved around a bit, acting, modeling, singing, I thought I bumped into you and your husband at some opening event in LA last year, but I wasn't sure, so I didn't say anything. How is he?
Oh, for the love of Pete...Had she really done that? Been so self-absorbed to not notice an old friend in close enough proximity to be recognized? With a sigh, she tapped out a response.
To Hayley:omg, really? I'm so sorry I didn't recognize you. If it was at a party, I was probably so distracted by the list of things I had to do that my own mom could have walked by! As for Malcolm, well, I can only assume he's living his best life––we got a divorce recently.
The light clicked off, and she glanced up at Clarkson, who was still monologuing about this new house he was going to try and sell.
“It's gorgeous, Technically three stories, but they've opened up the top floor almost entirely––it's the perfect combo indoor outdoor vibes up there…” he was saying, “…with floor-to-ceiling glass on three walls and a huge open-air balcony it's like having a rooftop bar looking out to the sea.”
“Sounds great,” she said, flicking the dial that started the coffee extraction process.
The machine grumbled and shuddered. All machines did a little bit, she reasoned. The deliciously rich coffee smell filled the air as the espresso poured down the little spouts into the waiting cups. She would need to set up an espresso cup warming station, she realized. No one wants a half-cold espresso.
“Hey, so I was wondering if you were interested. Could I take you out for an evening?”
That snatched her attention.
“An evening?” she asked, biding for time.
She couldn't go out on a date with him, no, absolutely not. How did turning down dates work again? She had defaulted to the good old 'I don't think my husband would approve' with the various lecherous businessmen who had tried it on in the past, and while she was pretty sure Malcolm still wouldn't approve, it wasn't really as relevant now.
“Yeah, I'd love to take you down to see this place…” he said, “…and I think showing prospective buyers what a wonderful evening meal there can look like will do wonders for the interest I'm building in it.”
Wait, what? Was this a date, or was this a business thing...? Was she in business with Clarkson now? Well, except for their whole agreement about this place. She had been doing such a good job of keeping that to herself she had almost forgotten about it. Frances smiled at him. He had offered to help renovate and sell this place at the end of the season because he had seen how panicked she was about her not-at-all-thought-out purchase and wouldn't even take his commission for doing it––she needed to keep this as professional as possible.
“I don't know,” she said, pouring hot water from the goose-neck kettle to turn the espressos into a long black, but her phone cut her off.
Ping!
From Hayley:so this will sound super weird but hear me out––I'm actually really glad to hear that. I'm in Dallas right now, and I actually saw him at an event with some woman who I was very sure wasn't you...I don't know if you want more info on that or....?
Dallas, he was in Dallas. With someone. Someone who was a woman...and not her.
