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S he’d definitely harbored some hope, but when Viv went to hang the OPEN sign on its peg, the sight of three individuals lined up outside the door still startled her—a burly dockworker, a red-cheeked washerwoman, and a rattkin in a big, leather apron dusted with flour.

The dockworker looked her up and down, surprised, then growled, “Free samples?” He hooked a huge thumb at the sign in the street.

“That’s right,” said Viv, propping the door wide with a river stone. The sky was still dark, and the morning air had a mid-spring bite to it.

All three bustled inside. Viv had the stove lit for heat, and the wall lanterns cast a buttery glow over the interior.

The washerwoman approached the counter and examined a sheet of parchment that Viv had weighted with a few smooth pebbles.

She hadn’t had time to find a slate, so she’d hand-printed a menu, conscious of the crudeness of her attempt compared to Tandri’s stylus work.

It was better than nothing, but she’d have her new employee rework it later, if she was willing.

Viv hadn’t bothered to add prices to the simple list. She didn’t want to scare anyone off. Everything was free for the time being, anyway.

~Menu~

Coffee ~ rich drink brewed with roasted Gnomish beans

Latte ~ Coffee with milk—creamy and delicious

“Don’t know what none of that is,” said the washerwoman, tapping the list with one red forefinger. “Which one is best?”

She’d put a little thought into this. “Do you take cream in your tea?”

“Nah,” she replied. “Hot and more of it is how I likes mine. So, it’s like tea, is it?”

Viv waggled a hand side to side, then admitted, “No. Not really.” She looked at the other two. “How about you?”

“What she’s having,” said the dockworker, crossing his arms. The rattkin approached, got up on his toes to get a good view of the menu and, after a moment, tapped the latte without uttering a word.

“Done,” said Viv. She set to brewing.

As the machine began hissing and grinding and burbling, her first customers gathered around curiously. The rattkin squeaked in surprise when the brew began to gush into a mug, his oil-drop eyes gleaming.

She slid the first mug to the woman, who cautiously picked it up, gave it a deep sniff and a puff of breath to cool it, then took a hefty sip.

She screwed up her face for a moment… then nodded.

“Huh. Not bad, that is,” she admitted. “Not tea, that’s sure.

Not saying I’d pay by the mug, hear, but…

.” She wandered into the dining area and slid onto the bench, hands curled around the mug. Leaning over it, she sighed deeply.

The dockworker received his, smelled it dubiously, and somehow drank it in four long swallows. Viv grimaced and grabbed at her own throat involuntarily. The big man contemplated it, shrugged, returned the mug, and left without a word.

Viv’s disappointment was acute, but she still managed to call out, “Uh, thank you!” in her best impression of someone who knew what they were doing.

Tandri slipped in the door and quietly rounded the counter as Viv brewed the rattkin’s latte. He waited with hands clasped daintily, his whiskers twitching, snout quivering.

He eagerly received the cup and thrust his nose into the curls of steam rising from the golden cream on the surface. After a delicate sip, he closed his eyes, clearly savoring it, and Viv leaned her elbows on the counter to watch.

The rattkin’s eyes opened, and he dipped his head in thanks. He quietly took his mug to a booth, where he sipped his drink and kicked his dangling paws.

“A promising start,” said Tandri. “That’s all so far?”

“So far.”

The washerwoman departed, leaving her mug at the table, and eventually, the rattkin finished as well, delivering his empty cup to the front counter. He bowed politely and scurried out the door, leaving scattered dustings of flour in his wake.

Tandri heated a kettle on the stove, filled the washbasin, and gathered the mugs to soak. “That was a good idea,” she said, indicating the menu on the counter. “Really helpful.”

Viv gave her a sidelong glance. “You could do better, though.”

“Well. Better isn’t the word I’d use.”

“I’m going to pick up a slate and some chalk later. Got the idea from a pub on the High Street. We can hang it back here, and then you can work the same magic you did with those signs. Is that all right?”

“My pleasure.”

Early morning customers—the sort of folks who rise well before dawn to begin the day’s labor—arrived in a thin trickle.

Viv and Tandri worked in tandem, explaining the menu as best they could and trading off between brewing and cleaning.

The shop was pleasant and warm, and the smell of roasted beans permeated the air, drifting out into the street.

More than a few folk clearly followed their noses in the door.

Viv dared to hope.

* * *

The morning surge dried up after a few hours, and business evaporated, even though traffic outside the shop increased.

“And now it’s looking like yesterday all over again,” muttered Viv.

“Let’s not worry yet,” said Tandri.

But Viv noticed that the woman was scrubbing mugs she’d already cleaned. Before long, Tandri was aggressively wiping the surface of the machine, polishing it for the fifth time.

The next few hours were frankly agonizing.

At last, around noon, their first post-morning visitor walked through the door.

He was young, tall, and handsome, in an underfed and aristocratic way.

His looks were somewhat spoiled by an inadvisable beard—too wispy, too patchy.

He glanced around as if searching for someone.

A satchel of books weighed down one arm, and he kept looking down at one cupped palm.

He wore a split-hemmed cloak, and the pin on its left breast looked a lot like the head of a stag.

He didn’t approach the counter, wandering instead into the dining area.

Viv watched him with a wrinkled brow.

“Ackers Student,” murmured Tandri.

“Ackers?”

“The Thaumic Academy.”

“Oh. Visited it my first day here, but didn’t know the name. He looks pretty well-to-do. Maybe we’ll even get some word of mouth. Students talk to each other, right?”

“They talk, all right,” muttered Tandri, with a hint of venom that made Viv look at her askance.

The young man circled the big table and benches twice, then sidled into one of the wall booths, unpacked some books, and began consulting them.

Viv shot Tandri a questioning glance, but the succubus shrugged. They both continued to watch him.

After about twenty minutes, during which Viv grew increasingly perplexed, she approached him and asked, “Anything I can help you with?”

He glanced up, smiled brightly, and replied, “No, thank you!”

“Are you here for the free sample?” she pressed.

“Sample? Oh, no. Nothing for me, thanks!” Then he returned to his study.

Nonplussed, Viv returned to the counter, shaking her head.

He remained there for a full three hours, during which time he busily perused his reading materials, scrawled intermittently on a parchment, consulted his cupped hand again and again, and murmured to himself. Then he packed his things, rose, and approached the counter.

“Thanks ever so much,” he said, and with a genial nod, he left.

* * *

After too much listless pacing, Viv abruptly decided that some sort of action was required.

She left Tandri with the shop and headed into the city, to the trade district up north.

It wasn’t a market day, but she still managed to locate a big panel of slate at a sign-maker’s and some stubs of chalk.

She even found multiple colors. She figured Tandri should have a palette to work with.

It felt good to be doing something, at least. The morning rush had raised her expectations for the rest of the day, but on the walk back, she counseled herself against unreasonable hope.

Certain hours were just better suited to the business.

A restaurant was busiest at mealtimes, and a café was busiest…

well, she supposed she was discovering when exactly that was.

* * *

“Oh, yes, this will work perfectly ,” Tandri purred as she took the chalk and slate from Viv. She dug her wooden stencils out of the storage room, set up at the big table, and got to work.

While she drew, Viv stood in the doorway, looking up and down the street. Laney was out on her porch, sweeping as she always seemed to be, and waggled a cheery wave at her.

Was morning really the only time she could expect to do business? It certainly hadn’t seemed that way in Azimuth—the cafés there had been lively throughout the balance of the day. Perhaps prospects would improve if the idea caught on. She supposed tomorrow would give her an inkling.

When she re-entered the shop, she found Tandri examining the finished menu, which leaned against the wall.

Again, Tandri’s script was far superior to Viv’s artistic endeavors, and she’d used the colors to excellent effect.

Her text appeared beveled, almost leaping off the slate.

She’d also taken some creative liberties with the wording.

~Legends & Lattes ~

~Menu~

Coffee ~ exotic aroma & rich, full-bodied roast—⒈／⒉ bit

Latte ~ a sophisticated and creamy variation—1 bit

*

FINER TASTES FOR THE

~ WORKING GENT & LADY ~

She’d even added an artistic rendering of a pair of beans and a mug with an artful curl of steam.

“I like it. You’re a hell of an artist.” Viv nodded. “Here, I’ve got a mallet in the back.”

Tandri held the sign level while Viv banged a few nails into the wall below the base as a sort of shelf.

“The slate was a good idea,” said Tandri. “We can change or add to it easily.”

“Change it?”

“If you decide to expand the menu. You never know.”

Viv looked around the place and sighed. “I’d hoped we’d have more after noon. Maybe around dinner? Doesn’t feel like it’s going to happen, though. I don’t know if expanding the menu is going to be a real concern any time soon.”

Tandri pursed her lips and tapped them with a forefinger. “Let’s wait and see what tomorrow morning brings.”

“Free samples still, you think?”

“Yes, let’s see about repeat customers, first.” Her expression waxed briefly wicked. “Hook them and see if they stay on the line.”

“Never was any good at fishing.”

“You’re in a river town, now. You’ll learn.”

Viv hoped she was right.