Page 3 of Born in Fire (Dragonblood Dynasty #2)
Chapter 3
J uno
I focus on the espresso machine’s pressure gauge, mentally reciting the steps from training.
Tamp the grounds evenly. Twenty-five pounds of pressure. Lock the portafilter firmly.
Two weeks on the job, and I’m still getting used to the professional-grade equipment at the Grind it’s almost as rich and strong as the brew.
I chew on my lip. “I don’t know. I…” I trail off.
He lowers his voice. “I’m not above begging.” He bobs his eyebrows over those remarkable eyes.
It’s just coffee. And you can always block his number if he’s a creep.
“Pretty please?” He draws the words out as he leans forward a little. The movement has his elbow bumping the cappuccino Lisa just poured for the guy at the end of the counter. Coffee splashes onto the crisp apron I put on at the start of my shift. The stain spreads over the pink polka dots. I stare down at it and then up at him.
“Oh, Jesus.” He puts a hand over his face. “Way to go, Dorian. I guess I owe you a tip now.” He fumbles in his billfold and shoves a note in the tip box.
“Is that a dollar?” I raise an eyebrow.
Now it’s his turn to look sheepish as he eyes the note. “Uh… yes? Guess I should have checked first.”
“You’re a shitty tipper. I should probably ban you from the place.” I stifle a grin when I see color trickle up his neck. It charms me. “But you’ve got sad eyes. I’ll allow it.”
He blinks at me for a second, as if nobody has ever said such a thing to him. I’m surprised myself. I don’t even know the man.
Where the hell did that come from?
“Okay,” I decide impulsively, reaching for a napkin and pen. I write my number carefully, not adding my last name or any other identifying information. A small protection, but it makes me feel more in control.
I slide the napkin toward him. “I’m usually free on Tuesdays.”
Why are you telling him this? Why?!
His smile broadens as he pockets the napkin. “Tuesday it is. I’ll text you so you have my number, too.”
“I should get back to work,” I say, gesturing to the line that’s now started forming behind him.
“Of course.” He steps back, raising his hand in a small salute. “Until Tuesday, Juno of the stars.”
The playful farewell makes me smile despite myself. I watch as he rejoins his companion, who rises with fluid grace. They exit together, the contrast between them striking—Dorian’s casual confidence against the other man’s contained authority.
As they disappear through the doors, I return to the espresso machine, staring at the cup it’s filling with perhaps more focus than necessary. My heart still beats a little too quickly, but not entirely from anxiety.
“Hey! Do you know who that was?” Lisa whispers, sidling up beside me.
“Just a customer,” I reply.
Lisa snorts. “Hardly, girlfriend! That’s Dorian Craven. And the big boss himself, Caleb.”
“Craven?” I repeat. My eyes widen. Craven Industries. Craven Towers.
Oh, geez.
“What did he want?” Lisa asks, taking the cup I’ve been filling and handing it to a waiting customer with a smile.
“My number,” I say in a small voice, suddenly feeling excruciatingly self-conscious. It feels like everyone is staring at me.
They’re not, you idiot. Get a grip.
Nobody in this place is interested in little old me. That’s why I like it here. Everyone’s so busy and important that I’m practically invisible.
Except to the guy who runs the company.
“Your number?” Lisa is staring at me. “Holy shit!”
“It’s nothing.” I shrug. “Probably just messing with me.”
“I doubt it.” She stares at the door, then back at me. “He looked pretty interested.”
I give another shrug, trying for casual and failing. “I doubt he’ll call.”
“Oh, I think he’ll call, alright.” She smiles impishly. “And when he does—”
“Excuse me.” A guy in a suit is at the counter, flashing a meaningful look at the clock on the wall behind us. “Anyone working here today?”
“Sorry!” Lisa says brightly, turning from me and aiming a smile at him. “What’ll it be?”
I breathe a sigh of relief as her attention shifts from me, along with the awkward questions. My heart is racing, and there’s a tingle in my skin that makes me feel warm.
I place my palms flat on the cool counter, grounding myself in the present moment. I’ve given my number to an attractive man. An influential man.
Oh God! Am I making a mistake?
No. I can do this.
It’s a small step, perhaps a crazy one, but it feels like reclaiming something Tyler took from me—the simple pleasure of connection, the possibility of something new.
Whether anything comes of it or not, today I chose possibility over fear. The astronomer’s daughter, looking toward the stars again instead of constantly watching for storms.
I’m moving forward.