Chapter 3 3. ICED AMERICANO. DOUBLE CREAM.

OLLY's...

I'd been helping Emily out a lot at her coffee shop since I lost my job and my boyfriend a month ago. She couldn't afford to hire anyone, and I couldn't afford to sit at home wallowing. So I practically forced her to let me help out-for free. It kept my hands busy and my mind from spiraling.

Honestly, I loved it here. The hum of the espresso machine, the rush of people, the faint sweetness of vanilla syrup in the air-it was grounding. A far cry from the "best job I ever had," where I traveled out of town in heels that didn't fit, pitched fancy presentations to fancy people, and smiled through dinners with clients who only remembered my name after looking at my chest.

And then there was the colleague I dated. Higher up the food chain, emotionally unavailable, and, in the end, mortified to be associated with me-especially after I made that mistake. The one that got me fired.

Worse still, I couldn't stop thinking about this wild, impulsive one-night stand I had just days after. Easily the best sex of my life. And now it haunted me like a vivid dream I couldn't wake from.

"Oh God," I muttered as hot chocolate sloshed over my hand. "Fuck!"

"You've been zoning out a lot lately," Emily said, moving behind the counter with practiced ease and passing me a tissue. "Go take a breather. I've got this."

"Aww, thanks," I said, wiping the sticky mess from my skin. "I'm sorry, Em. I am probably ruining this for you. It just seems I can't get things right anymore."

"Lies. You had hot sex to get over your dickhead ex. Honestly, that might be the smartest thing you've done in months."

I huffed. "And that could be my biggest mistake. I can't stop thinking about it and I won't get such an opportunity anymore which is worse."

"Then go back there."

I let out a dry laugh. "That was a month ago, Em. Besides, I bailed on him while he was still asleep, remember? Didn't even leave a note. Just snuck out like a coward."

"You were embarrassed. That's normal. Don't give it much thought, Olly. Besides, it meant nothing right?"

The noise outside drifted in-sirens, footsteps, voices weaving together in a chaotic, oddly comforting hum. I loved watching people pour into the shop. Students, workers, dreamers. They all looked like they had places to be. Lives to return to.

Unlike me.

"Yeah... of course."

Emily took over the orders while I tried to snap back into reality. A man with a suitcase ordered his usual. I handed it off just as the bell over the door jingled.

In walked this woman-gorgeous, blonde, the kind of confidence that made you feel underdressed just by breathing next to her. Her energy filled the room. She looked like she had her life perfectly planned out, maybe with a little help from generational wealth and a therapist on retainer.

She didn't hesitate when she reached the counter. Knew exactly what she wanted.

Emily's phone rang.

"Can you take over a sec?" she asked. "It's Richard. If he's calling during work hours, it must be important."

"Of course," I said with a nod.

I'd made her iced Americano with double cream order within a few seconds as I had made it a hundred times, for a lot of customers and myself because it is also my choice of coffee– iced coffee in particular.

"Oh! I was waiting for you to ask. I didn't know you got that."

"Iced Americano whipped with double cream," I repeated to be sure I wasn't mistaken.

"Oh! Thank you."

Just as I handed it over, it slipped from her grasp and splashed all over her pristine dress.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry," I gasped, grabbing a wad of tissues and rushing to her side. "Let me help."

She looked down, unfazed. "Oh no! Don't worry. But then, I ruined the tiles."

"That should be the least of your worries. I feel terrible. Here, more tissue-Thank God it was just the lower hem of the dress. "You could rinse that part in the restroom so it won't stick up."

"It's fine," she said, laughing softly. "I'll probably toss the dress anyway. I've worn it too many times."

That stunned me. I would have scrubbed that dress within an inch of its life and worn it again like nothing happened.

"Did I make you uncomfortable? I didn't mean to-"

"No! Of course not! It is fine. Take as much tissue as you want, I am gonna brew another coffee for you."

Just then, Emily returned, her face flushed with excitement-until she saw the puddle and the tissues.

"Oh no. Olive, what did you do this time?"

"Trust me," I said. "It wasn't me this time."

"It was me," the woman chimed in. "Tried to juggle too many things at once. My bag in my hand, a cup of coffee on the other and then trying to pick the cash at the same time."

"Oh!" Em squinted her eyes. "Sorry about that. We'll get you cleaned up."

"To make it easier now, bring out the cash before you accept your drink," I said to her.

She chuckled. "Oh yeah! Lesson learned."

"Two cups in total. You know, the spilled one. I am sorry, but. . ." Emily said as she stretched to collect the cash that covered just a cup of coffee.

"Oh! That is totally fine. It just slipped my mind. It is my fault anyway." She released a charming smile and got her cup of coffee.

When she left, the bell jingled again, leaving behind only the faint scent of perfume and espresso.

"So," I said, turning to Emily, "what was the excitement on your face earlier?"

Her grin was immediate. "You've just been offered an interview at Richard's firm."

My heart paused. "What?"

"If you're interested. The interview's tomorrow. You've got a real shot."

"I-I mean, yeah. Of course I'm interested." But my stomach twisted.

Emily caught the hesitation in my voice. "What's wrong?"

I looked down at my chocolate-stained hand. "I've gone for so many interviews in the past few weeks, Em. Every single one's been a rejection."

"This one's different."

"I got labeled a whistleblower. That doesn't exactly scream 'team player.' What if I've been blacklisted?"

"You did the right thing. You called out corruption. That takes guts."

"And it cost me everything. My job. My relationship."

"Your ex-boyfriend dumped you because he was ashamed to be seen with someone who stood up for the truth. That's not love."

"I could have handled it differently. Kept my head down. Quit quietly. Move on."

Emily stepped in and pulled me into a hug. She smelled like cinnamon and coffee beans and something else I couldn't name but had come to depend on. She'd been more of a mother to me these past few weeks than my own had ever tried to be.

"You'll go for the interview," she said softly. "And they'll see what you're worth. And if they don't? Then they were never worthy of you."