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Prologue

January 2020

Vanessa took a deep, calming breath and surveyed the room.

Everything was ready. At least everything she could see. The wood-plank flooring was swept clean. The dozen tables—a funky and eclectic mix of sizes and shapes—were all wiped down. The two large sofas, one by the bay window, the other nestled in a little alcove which she and her staff had taken to calling “The Lover’s Nook,” both had their colorful throw cushions fluffed and arranged just so.

The pastry cooler, attached to the ordering counter, was stocked with pastries and plastic containers of diced fresh fruit. The coffee machines were turned on, emitting an intoxicating mix of the different blends brewing, and the espresso maker positively gleamed, the result of Vanessa’s almost obsessive polishing the night before.

Yes, everything I can control is ready.

If there was a meteor hurtling towards Earth right this very minute to wipe out Carlsbad, California, she couldn’t do anything about that. Same for the San Andreas fault if it decided to suddenly shift and throw the entire state into the Pacific. Nope; completely out of her hands.

All I can control is this coffeeshop and doing everything I can to make sure we’re a hit.

Vanessa checked her watch. After thirty-five years on this planet, she was now only 10 minutes way from opening her very own coffeeshop, La Vida Mocha. Reaching into the pocket of her favorite black ripped jeans and extracting a hair tie, she pulled her long raven hair back into a ponytail, mindful of the fact that when she wears it down, she tends to look too fancy, too glamorous—at least that’s what people always told her. Like a goddamn supermodel on the red carpet, one of her ex-girlfriends had told her.

The recall of that memory made Vanessa stop for a second. That had been Rebecca who’d made that comment. Rebecca, who was no slouch in the looks department herself but for some reason had terrible self-esteem and was intimidated by Vanessa’s own startling beauty. It was that lack of self-esteem which had eventually led to their breakup when Rebecca left Vanessa for a slightly overweight blonde with bad skin.

Vanessa shook her head.

Women! Can’t live with ‘em; can’t be straight.

In any case, ponytail it was. Relaxed, casual, fun. Because this was supposed to be a relaxed, casual and fun coffeeshop.

She took another deep breath and then said, “OK, we’re ready. We’re ready.”

Chloë, one of Vanessa’s two employees, looked up from the table she was nervously re-polishing. Her pixie-cut platinum hair caught the early sunlight streaming through the picture window.

“We’re more than ready, Vanessa,” Chloë said with a smile. “By the way, have you seen the line forming up outside?”

No, Vanessa hadn’t seen, so focused had her attention been on the inside of her new business. But now she directed her gaze to the window and, sure enough, a line of about fifteen (hopefully future repeat!) customers was waiting. Something about the make-up of the line caused Vanessa to bite her bottom lip while she figured it out. When she did, she started laughing.

Chloë, needlessly polishing yet another table, looked up again. “What’s up?”

Vanessa nodded towards the waiting people.

“They’re all women,” she said.

Chloë looked.

“Yeah, so?”

Vanessa was still laughing.

“Well, I mean look! There’s one...two...three...four couples holding hands and judging by the amount of flannel, I’m willing to bet the rest were last with a guy back in their experimental college years.” She looked over at Chloë. “As much as I love the ladies, I didn’t set out to open Carlsbad’s premier lesbian coffeeshop.”

Of course, it made sense, she considered. In the run-up to this grand opening, Vanessa and her cadre of friends had promoted La Vida Mocha by posting flyers in every lesbian bar from Oceanside to San Diego; by creating a Facebook page for the shop—and then linking it to just about every lesbian Facebook group in Southern California; by posting photos of the shop’s transformation from empty former delicatessen to hip, So-Cal coffee hangout on Instagram and Twitter with the hashtags #lesbianownedbusiness and #lesbiansrule and by talking the shop up for the past three months to anyone they kissed, from significant others to one-night stands. Hell, even her only two employees were gay.

“Eh, who cares?” Chloë said. “The boys have plenty of their own places and the straights still rule the world. I wouldn’t mind a chicks-only caffeine spot.”

She came to stand by Vanessa, hooking her arm through hers. “It’s finally about to happen, Vanessa,” she told her boss with feeling. “You’ve been waiting a long time.” She squeezed Vanessa’s arm.

Vanessa was so grateful for Chloë’s presence. The twenty-three-year-old may be a dozen years younger than herself but she had a good head on her shoulders and had been a calming influence for Vanessa when the rigors of opening a new business had gotten to be too much at times. The two had known each other since Chloë was still in high school and Vanessa had been her personal trainer, hired by Chloë’s parents to help their daughter rehabilitate her knee from a mountain biking accident.

“Fuck!”

The exclamation startled both Vanessa and Chloë and they turned to see Luli, Vanessa’s second employee, emerge from the back room, staring at her phone. Vanessa’s heart thumped and her panicked eyes looked at her watch. Only five more minutes until opening! What the hell went wrong in the back? Did the walk-in fridge die? Did Luli discover rat droppings covering the sacks of coffee? Luli was looking at her phone...was there a meteor heading towards Carlsbad?

“Lu?” Vanessa asked, her voice a little shaky.

“Huh? Oh...sorry! Shit, we’re not open yet, are we?” She quickly scanned the room to see if there were any customers that might have been offended at her outburst, then breathed a sigh relief upon only seeing Vanessa and Chloë.

Vanessa felt Chloë give her arm another squeeze, this time laced with meaning.

Breathe.

“Lu, what’s wrong?” Chloë asked.

“My sister. She’s trapped in China!”

“Oh no!” the other women exclaimed in unison.

Luli’s sister, they knew, had left for China a month ago to visit relatives. She was due back any day.

“Yeah, they fucking closed China!” Luli continued. “China! Because of that virus! No one in or out. Including my sister!”

“Is she okay? I mean, does she have somewhere to stay and all that?” Vanessa asked. She and Chloë came to stand next to Luli and both looked down at her phone. It was open to the messaging app but all of the text was in Cantonese.

Luli nodded. “Yeah, she’s

fine. She’ll just have to stay with our relatives. I mean, it’s not bad; they own a string of electronics shops and are pretty well connected with the Party, so they’re more than well off. Jia will be living in a mansion at least.”

“Thank God,” Vanessa said. “I’m sure she’ll be fine and be able to come home soon. This corona thing will blow over in no time. It’s not like China is a third-world country. They have the resources to fight this thing and contain it.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Luli shut off the phone, tucking it in her back pocket. “Anyway, my parents hate her boyfriend so Jia being trapped in the motherland is a blessing to them.” She looked up at Vanessa. “OK, let’s do this!”

Vanessa nodded. It was time. Well, a minute early but what the hell?