Chapter 3 Muffins, meetings and mayhem

Chapter 3: Muffins, Meetings, and Mayhem

The next morning, Ethan woke up to the sound of his alarm blaring at full volume. His hand shot out from under the covers, blindly slapping the snooze button until the room fell silent again. He groaned, burying his face in his pillow.

"Why did I think this was a good idea?" he mumbled to himself. In the world of billionaires, 7 AM was an ungodly hour to be awake, especially when the day involved making coffee and dealing with customers, not attending a board meeting in a plush leather chair.

Still, he rolled out of bed, determined to survive another day as the world's most incompetent barista. After a quick shower-one that actually involved lukewarm water this time-he pulled on his wrinkled uniform and headed out the door.

The streets were just as noisy and chaotic as ever, with cars honking and people rushing to work. Ethan dodged a cyclist and almost stepped in a puddle of something he didn't want to think about. "City life," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

When he arrived at Beans and Dreams, Martha was already there, as usual. She gave him her customary nod as he walked in, but today, there was a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Good morning," she said, handing him his apron. "You're in for a treat today."

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "Why do I feel like that's not a good thing?"

"You'll see," she said cryptically, turning to the coffee machine. Ethan had a bad feeling about this.

The first couple of hours passed uneventfully. Ethan managed to make a few drinks without causing any major disasters, and he was even getting faster at using the espresso machine. He had just started to think that maybe, just maybe, today would go smoothly when the door flew open and in walked Mr. Tucker.

Now, Mr. Tucker was a regular. He came in every morning without fail, always ordering the same thing: a double-shot espresso with a side of attitude. He was the type of customer who believed the world revolved around him and expected everyone else to agree.

"Morning," Mr. Tucker barked as he approached the counter. "I'll take my usual. And make it quick this time, junior."

Ethan plastered on his best fake smile. "Coming right up," he said through gritted teeth. He turned to the machine and started preparing the espresso, carefully counting out the shots. He was determined to get this right. No spills. No mistakes.

As he worked, Mr. Tucker started tapping his foot impatiently. "Any day now," he muttered, glancing at his watch.

Ethan rolled his eyes but kept his cool. He pressed the button to start the espresso machine, watching the dark liquid pour into the cup. So far, so good. He grabbed a saucer and placed the cup on it, then handed it to Mr. Tucker with a flourish.

"There you go," Ethan said, smiling triumphantly.

Mr. Tucker took a sip, then immediately spat it back out into the cup. "What is this garbage?" he demanded, glaring at Ethan.

Ethan blinked. "Uh... espresso?"

"It's cold!" Mr. Tucker snapped, slamming the cup down on the counter. "I asked for hot espresso, not iced sewage!"

Ethan frowned. "It was hot when I made it..."

"Then why is it cold now?" Mr. Tucker growled.

Ethan glanced at the cup. Sure enough, the espresso was lukewarm at best. How did that even happen? He scratched his head, trying to figure out what went wrong.

Martha stepped in before things could escalate further. "Let me handle this," she said, giving Ethan a knowing look. She quickly remade the espresso and handed it to Mr. Tucker, who took a cautious sip.

"Better," he grumbled, though he didn't seem entirely satisfied. He paid for his drink and left, still muttering under his breath about the "incompetent new guy."

Ethan sighed in relief once Mr. Tucker was gone. "What just happened?" he asked Martha. "I swear it was hot when I made it."

Martha shrugged. "Sometimes the machine acts up. Don't worry about it. You handled it well."

"Well?" Ethan echoed. "I feel like I barely survived."

Martha chuckled. "Welcome to customer service."

Just as Ethan started to relax, the door chimed again. This time, it wasn't a grumpy regular. It was Larry. And he looked completely out of place, as usual, in his crisp suit and polished shoes.

"Larry?" Ethan said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Larry glanced around nervously, clearly uncomfortable in the small, bustling cafe. "Sir, there's a situation at the office. I think you need to come back."

Ethan groaned. "Can't they handle it without me for one day?"

"I'm afraid not, sir. The board is... well, let's just say they're concerned about your absence."

Ethan rubbed his temples. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to the office and deal with the board members. But he also knew he couldn't stay in hiding forever. Sooner or later, someone would start asking questions about where he was.

"Fine," he said reluctantly. "But just for a few hours. I've got a shift to finish here."

Larry looked like he wanted to protest but thought better of it. "As you wish, sir."

Ethan untied his apron and handed it to Martha. "Can you cover for me? I'll be back before closing."

Martha raised an eyebrow. "You've got a meeting at your 'other job,' huh?"

"Something like that," Ethan said with a sigh. He grabbed his jacket and followed Larry out the door.

As they walked to the sleek black car waiting outside, Larry leaned in and lowered his voice. "Sir, I must say, this disguise is... unconventional. Are you sure it's necessary?"

Ethan smirked. "You have no idea, Larry. Trust me, this is exactly what I need right now."

Larry didn't look convinced, but he opened the car door without further comment. Ethan slid into the back seat and leaned his head against the window as they drove toward the office. It was strange, switching between his two lives like this. One minute he was spilling milk and making terrible coffee, and the next he was walking into a high-rise building to face the board of directors.

When they arrived at the office, Ethan took a deep breath and straightened his jacket. Time to put on his billionaire persona again.

The meeting was already in progress when he walked in. The board members glanced up as he entered, their expressions ranging from surprise to mild disapproval.

"Ah, Mr. Harrison," said Mr. Whitmore, the head of the board. "So nice of you to join us."

"Good to see you too, Whitmore," Ethan said, taking his seat at the head of the table. "What's the crisis this time?"

Whitmore cleared his throat. "We've been discussing the company's recent acquisitions, and there are concerns about the direction we're headed. Some of the shareholders are nervous."

Ethan waved a hand dismissively. "They're always nervous. That's their job."

"This is different," Whitmore insisted. "They want reassurance. They want to know that you're still committed to the company."

Ethan leaned back in his chair, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Whitmore's eyes narrowed slightly. "Physically, yes. But there are rumors that you've been... distracted lately."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Rumors?"

Whitmore hesitated for a moment before continuing. "There's talk that you've been... absent. That you're not as focused on the business as you used to be."

Ethan felt a surge of irritation. He had been working hard, just not in the way they expected. But he couldn't exactly explain his undercover barista experiment to the board. They'd think he'd lost his mind.

"I'm more focused than ever," Ethan said firmly. "The company is in good hands. I've been working on some new strategies that will take us to the next level."

Whitmore didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded. "Very well. We'll hold you to that, Mr. Harrison."

Ethan forced a smile. "You won't be disappointed."

The meeting dragged on for another hour, with the board discussing numbers and projections that Ethan had already memorized weeks ago. By the time it was over, he was itching to get back to the cafe. Who would have thought he'd prefer making lattes to sitting in a cushy office chair?

As he left the boardroom, Larry caught up with him. "Sir, are you sure you want to go back to the cafe? You could take the rest of the day off."

Ethan grinned. "Oh, I'm going back. I've got a job to do."

Larry shook his head, clearly baffled. "As you wish, sir."

And with that, Ethan headed back to his double life, ready to tackle whatever the café-or the company-threw at him next.