Page 31 of The Pumpkin Spice Romance
“Coffee shopowner?Well, I guess you can stay,” said Stanhope in a faux jolly tone that masked how insulting the comment was.
“Everyone is welcome at this event,” I growled. “The entire point is to get business advice regardless of where someone is on their journey. And last time I checked, baristas could still have good business ideas.”
My family had never understood why I had wanted to travel or attempt anything beyond the family farm. Being belittled for having ambition always pissed me off.
“Jeez, Felix. It was just a joke,” said Stanhope. “Stop taking everything so seriously. I’m sure,” Stanhope squinted at her name badge, “Maddie doesn’t mind being called a barista.”
“I don’t, actually,” said Maddie. “What I mind is when people disrespect the profession and my employees. A lot of people, and I’m sure you’re not one of them,” she leaned in witha smile that had a little bit of shark in it, “seem to think that service industry workers lack intelligence or skills. But the truth is that being a barista means having an encyclopedic knowledge of drinks, an elephant’s memory for regulars, mastery of math, and the social acumen to read the room. Then there’s the fact that by talking to such a wide cross-section of the population, baristas get a built-in customer research platform. Really, it’s a fantastic job to have before launching a business. Of course, as you’re already in business, you naturally got all that already.”
Stanhope looked like he’d sucked a lemon, and I nearly ruined Maddie’s moment by laughing.
“Of course he did,” I said, trying to back her play and also tell Stanhope to back off. “Because otherwise, he’d just be an insulting jackass.”
Stanhope looked like he had something to say about my comment, but Tricia, the event leader, sharply struck a small metal triangle with a bell-like chime.
“Five-minute warning,” trilled Tricia, walking through the crowd. “Panel discussion is up next.”
“Better go get ready,” said Stanhope, downing his cocktail and walking away.
I looked over at Maddie as the crowd began to dissipate. She beamed up at me.
“I owe you so much coffee.”
3
MADDIE
Felix Faraday. I savored the name. It seemed just as yummy as the rest of him. And having spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to dry him this morning, I had a pretty good idea about what the rest of him felt like. I was trying to ignore that he probably also had a good idea about what the rest of me felt like, having mashed myself into him. I could only take so much embarrassment in one day, so I was pretending that moment didn’t exist.
“Thanks for that,” I said, gesturing to the retreating rude mentor. “I’m not sure why people don’t think coffee is a real business or that serving it is unimportant work. I’m not saying we’re saving the world, but it seems pretty short-sighted for a bunch of people who lose it when they can’t get their caffeine fix and don’t own a coffee pot.”
“Familiarity breeds contempt. They use coffee every day, and it gives the illusion of being easy because professionals make it a friendly transaction. It makes them complacent.”
The annoying lady with the triangle dinged it suspiciously close to us, and I jumped in surprise.
“Panel discussion!” She chirped forcefully.
“Thanks, Tricia,” said Felix with an easy smile. “We’ll be in shortly.”
I could see that Tricia really wanted us to move now, but Felix just smiled at her and waited. With no conversational opening, Tricia had to give up and finally left with a huff of annoyance. The ability to endure awkward silence was a master move that I did not have the skill for, and I had to admire it.
“Is the panel discussion worth sticking around for?” I whispered, peering into the meeting space. The networking event was being held at a hotel, and the meeting area had a glum sort of aura that didn’t seem encouraging to me. Standing in the foyer with Felix seemed like a much better idea.
“Ten to one, it’ll be Stanhope dominating all the questions to make himself look good.”
“Stanhope?”
That couldn’t be a real name, could it?
“Stanhope Wallace,” he said, pointing at the blond guy who didn’t think baristas should be anywhere but a coffee shop.
“His parents did that on purpose?”
“Probably,” said Felix with a shrug. “I’ve been assuming it’s why he’s such a bonehead.”
I chuckled.
“I think maybe I’ve had enough of Stanhope for one night. I was hoping. . .” I sighed and trailed off.
