Page 41 of Brewing Up My Fresh Start

The bell over the door jingles. Jessica slips inside, notebook tucked under her arm like always.

“So…” she says carefully, gaze flicking to mine with a knowing softness, “the book club decided to meet this afternoon instead. Hazel baked. Amber brought wine.” She hesitates, then adds, “I, um, may have made a little timeline of… significant moments. Just to keep us organized.”

“A timeline?”

Her shoulders lift, sheepish. “Years of coffee shop interactions. Nothing fancy. Just… sorted by levels of romantic tension.”

“Jessica, there has been zero romantic tension. There’s been professional coffee service and occasional weather talk with absolutely no romantic meaning.”

She tilts her head, studying me like I’m trying to sell her something she doesn’t quite buy. “Then explain this morning’s tie situation—the one currently blowing up my feed.”

“Basic human courtesy. The man looked like he got dressed during a hurricane while blindfolded.”

“And you felt compelled to fix it because…?”

“Because his presentation reflects on the entire community development process, and I didn’t want him looking unprofessional during important municipal discussions that will literally determine my coffee shop’s continued existence.”

Jessica stares at me for a long beat before her lips twitch, and then she lets out a quiet laugh—the kind that always sneaks up on her, soft but impossible to ignore.

“Oh, Michelle. You are so far gone.”

“I am not far gone anywhere. I’m standing in my coffee shop, defending my livelihood.”

“While fixing his tie and staring into his eyes like you were about to solve world peace.”

“Caroline told you about the eye contact situation?”

Jessica’s brows rise. “Caroline posted pictures. Very… flattering ones. You look like a romance cover model. He looks like he’s two seconds from declaring his undying devotion.”

“Yeah, I saw that.” I say weakly.

Jessica hides a smile behind her hand. “You were having a moment, Michelle. Whether you admit it or not.”

“It was not a moment. It was helpful community service with unintended side effects that I’m not analyzing right now.”

“Look at your face in those pictures.” Her tone is gentle, but it slices through me.

I stare at the photos again, horrified at how transparent I look—like he’s the most important discovery of my life. And worse, the way he’s looking back.

“This doesn’t change anything practical,” I say finally, clinging to logic like a lifeline. “He’s still planning to demolish my coffee shop, and I’m still rallying the entire town against him.”

“Of course. Star-crossed opponents.” Jessica closes her notebook with a quiet snap. “Romeo and Juliet with better coffee and hopefully less tragedy.”

“Romeo and Juliet ended with mass casualties.”

Her mouth quirks. “This doesn’t have to.”

“You’re getting way ahead of yourself.”

“Maybe.” She slides her phone back into her bag. “But those pictures suggest you’re already halfway to admitting what everyone else can see.”

I swallow hard. “Jessica… what if we can’t save both the coffee shop and—whatever this is?”

Her answer is quiet, almost kind. “What if the only way to save yourself is to stop fighting him and start working with him?”

I close her phone and hand it back, my brain buzzing like an overworked espresso machine. “This is going to end badly for everyone.”

The afternoon light has shifted, casting longer shadows across tables where customers shared their morning routines hours before witnessing my public romantic breakdown.