Page 37 of Cream & Sugar

“It sure is,” he says. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“Oh it’s not mine,” I explain. “I’m afraid the owner isn’t here today. He’s been working like a maniac lately, so we’ve given him the day off.”

Shaun beams. “Well I’m sure I’m in good hands.”

“Of course! He only hires the best here,” I puff out my chest. “So, is there anything you fancy?”

Shaun sits back in his chair. “Yeah. A flatwhite, please.”

I write “fw” on my notepad; I’m getting there with all the coffee names but memorising multiple orders is a whole new ball game.

“One flat white coming right up.” I turn my act up to full salesman mode. “By the way, we’ve got some amazing new apple flapjack today. Just came in, actually. Best in the country. Can I tempt you?”

Shaun rolls his eyes. “Sure, but don’t oversell it.”

We share a smile and I write “afj” on my notepad.

“Coming right up. Oh, and my name’s Freddie if you need anything. Unless you want to make a complaint, of course. In which case, I’m Jim Fakename.”

Shaun chuckles. “Thank you, Freddie. Nice to meet you.”

Acting or not, he looks content, and more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him. I knew this was a good idea. Maybe I’m a genius. Or maybe he’s just relieved I’m not flirting with him anymore—thisisn’tflirting, by the way. This is just… role play.

Anna’s waiting for me behind the counter, mouth pursed.

“It’s quite bold to tell your boss to take a seat in his own café," she says.

“I guess,” I begin plating up Shaun’s flapjack and a cherry scone for the other customer. Because Iamfeeling bold, I add, “So is telling him to get out, to be fair.”

Anna’s eyes narrow. I’m sure I’m about to get a bollocking for being cheeky, but then she looks down at the tickets, trying to decode my handwriting.

“New orders?” she asks, sternly.

“Shaun’s having a flat white with this,” I wiggle the plate with the flapjack on it, “and the other guy’s just having a scone.”

“Right,” Anna takes the scone from me. “I’ll bring this to him. You can make the flat white.”

“Me?” I ask, surprised. Making a coffee for Shaun feels like a premature time to take the training wheels off. “Are you sure?”

“Why not? You have to practice. Don’t worry, I’ll help you if it turns out bad. But I have faith in you.”

And with that, she takes the scone and fucks off, leaving me with the coffee machine and a million ways to screw this up.

I stare at the big metal beast with all its confusing buttons and knobs. Using it still feels like trying to pilot the Death Star on a provisional driver's license. Why am I getting so nervous over a cup of coffee?

For some reason, my argument with Rory rushes back into my head and I’m filled with the powerful urge to do something without having my hand held. I steal a glance over at Shaun’s table and catch him looking at me. He’s probably waiting to see if I’ll burn the place down or not. After our rocky start, I don’t just want to prove him wrong, I want to impress him.

Trying my best to remember what he taught me, I grab a jug of milk from the fridge and push the button on the grinder.

I can do this.

14

Shaun

Iamsounbelievablyfucked.

From the moment I locked eyes with Freddie, bent over that table looking like a model who got lost on his way to a photoshoot, I’ve been a nervous, sweaty mess of a man. If I thought he was handsome the other day, it’s like he’s grown overnight into the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen. All it took was one flash of his gorgeous smile to melt me like a marshmallow.