Page 71 of Colliding with the Coffee Shop Owner
Throughout the morning, I observe Max in his element—explaining how secure network protocols protect user data, demonstrating the scheduling app that would enable remote workers to reserve space, and outlining potential revenue models that could double Mountain Brew’s income without compromising its core values.
Yet something has shifted in his approach since I met him. The driven intensity remains, but it's now tempered with patience and a genuine connection to the people who would use this space.
"Now for the centerpiece of our digital nomad vision," Max announces, gathering everyone around one of the central workstations. "This is Nexus Local—our small business security and management platform, specifically designed to protect the kind of data that remote workers handle daily."
The screen displays an elegant interface with multiple modules—secure file sharing, encrypted communication, virtual private network controls, and a suite of collaborative tools.
"Every workstation would come equipped with this security suite," Max explains, navigating through the various features. "Remote workers often handle sensitive company information. Our platform ensures that even in a public setting like a coffee shop, their data remains protected by military-grade encryption."
Ruth leans forward, clearly intrigued. "And this would protect my business records, too? The PickAxe's inventory and sales data?"
"Exactly," Max confirms, switching to a demonstration module tailored for local businesses. "Nexus Local isn't just for the digital nomads—it's designed to protect Angel's Peak businesses as well."
I watch with quiet pride as Max demonstrates the very technology that could have prevented what happened to me at BrewTech—secure access controls, audit trails that can't be altered retroactively, versioning systems that preserve original authorship of digital assets. He's created not just a product but a shield against the kind of betrayal I experienced.
"We'd like your help testing these systems," Max tells the group, gesturing to tablets set up at each workstation. "Try to break in, find flaws, tell us what's confusing or difficult to use. Real-world feedback is invaluable in refining the platform."
The business owners dive in with unexpected enthusiasm, Hannah from the library immediately testing the document sharing features, Dominic exploring the customer database encryption, Sheriff Donovan examining the emergency alert integration. Even Eleanor Morgan, who often claims to be "allergic to computers," gamely attempts to navigate the user-friendly interface.
"This feels different from other tech I've tried," Margie comments, successfully setting up a secure inventory tracking system for her bakery in minutes. "It's like it was designed for actual humans, not computer scientists."
"That's the whole point," Max says, catching my eye with a warm smile. "Technology should adapt to people, not the other way around."
The demonstration evolves organically into an impromptu testing session. Everyone takes turns exploring different aspectsof the platform, offering suggestions, identifying improvements, and imagining applications specific to Angel's Peak. No one mentions BrewTech or the article about Max.
Not one person looks at me differently. The revelation of my history with BrewTech, rather than creating distance, has given them context for understanding this new direction. They see the fullness of who I am—not just Lily the coffee shop owner, but Lily the innovator, the creator, the woman with both technical knowledge and artisanal skill.
Darlene from the diner arrives late, apologetic as she juggles her tablet and attempts to corral her two young children. "Babysitter canceled last minute. I can come back another time?—"
"Nonsense." Max intercepts the more rambunctious child—six-year-old Jake—with ease. "How about you test the app, and I'll test whether Jake here can beat me at thumb wrestling?"
"You're good with them." I join Max on the floor when Jake races off to get pizza, Emma now contentedly drawing on his tablet with a design app he opened for her.
"I volunteered at a community center during college." He helps Emma select colors for her digital masterpiece. "Free coding classes for kids from the neighborhood. Turned out I liked the teaching as much as the coding."
This glimpse of Max—patient, playful, at ease with children—reveals yet another layer of the man behind the tech genius facade. My heart performs dangerous acrobatics in my chest as I watch him praise Emma's artistic efforts with the same focused attention he gives to coding problems.
Later, walking home under a sky dusted with emerging stars, Max's hand warm in mine, we discuss the day's success.
"The app's almost ready for launch." Pride colors his voice. "The feedback today was invaluable—issues we never would have identified in controlled testing."
"The community loved being involved." I bump his shoulder playfully. "You might have created a new Angel's Peak tradition. Annual tech testing day."
"I'd like that." Something in his tone catches my attention—a wistfulness that suggests thoughts of future possibilities.
"They've adopted you," I observe as we claim a spot near the lake for the upcoming fireworks. "The Angel's Peak assimilation is nearly complete."
"Is that a good thing?" Max's arm slides around my waist, drawing me against his warmth.
"It's unprecedented." I lean into him, savoring his solid presence. "This town usually takes years to embrace newcomers."
"Maybe I'm just exceptionally charming." His smug expression earns him a playful elbow to the ribs. "Or maybe they recognize how I feel about a certain coffee shop owner."
The casual reference to his feelings creates a flutter in my chest that I'm increasingly unable to suppress.
I’m falling in love with Max Lawson. The realization should terrify me, given his imminent departure and our different worlds. Instead, it feels like the most natural evolution imaginable.
"You'll be gone next week, though." The reminder emerges more vulnerable than intended. "Back to Silicon Valley and Nexus Systems headquarters."
