Chapter 2

The next morning, I went to The Daily Grind. Jessica was behind the counter, a little flustered with the morning rush.

"Morning, Emily! The usual?"

"Morning, Jessica. Yes, please." I added, "Hey, I heard you have a VIP customer group? My friend Sarah mentioned it."

Jessica's smile tightened, just for a second. "Oh, that! It's just a small thing we're trying out, super informal. For, you know, regulars who come in almost every single day."

I came in three to four times a week. I probably spent more money there than anyone.

"Right," I said. "So, how does one get into this super informal group?"

"Well, it's mostly people I've known for ages, or, you know, people who just really, really love coffee," she said, busying herself with the espresso machine. Her answer was vague, evasive.

I paid for my latte and a scone – no discount, no offer of a sample.

That afternoon, I pulled out all my receipts from The Daily Grind. I also discreetly asked a couple of other friends I'd sent there about their experiences.

The pattern became clear.

Friends who went on my recommendation and mentioned my name paid the standard price, sometimes even a little more for "店长推荐" (manager's special) bundles that, when I calculated, cost more than buying the items separately. They were never invited to any VIP group.

My friend Sarah, who hadn't mentioned me, got the invite on her first visit. Another acquaintance, who also went without dropping my name, mentioned getting a "first-timer discount" and an invite to the group after her second visit.

The "VIPs" got perks. I, the main investor and a loyal customer, got nothing. In fact, it seemed I, and anyone associated with me, were paying a premium.

A cold knot formed in my stomach. This wasn't just an oversight. This was deliberate.

I decided I'd had enough of being their "best customer." I would stop going so frequently. I'd let my investment ride, collect whatever dividends came, but my daily latte runs were over.

A week later, I needed to pick up a bag of their specialty beans I'd pre-ordered. I also had a loyalty card with some credit on it.

"Hi Jessica," I said, keeping my voice even. "Just here for my beans. And I won't be recharging my card today, thanks."

Jessica looked up, surprised. Her son, Kevin, a small boy around six, was coloring at a little table nearby.

Suddenly, Kevin piped up, his voice startlingly loud in the quiet café.

"Mommy, is that the lady you said is a sucker?"

I froze.

Jessica's face went pale, then red. "Kevin! Shh! That's not nice!"

But Kevin continued, clearly repeating something he'd heard. "You said other people get a free cup with the big beans, but not her. 'Cause she's rich and should pay more!"