Page 3

2

Liam

Opening day. At last!

My heart beat like a bird was trapped in my chest, fluttering and flapping like mad, making my hands shake as I unlocked the front door and flicked on the neon OPEN sign. There was no one waiting outside yet, but I knew these things took time. I’d done everything I could to get word out. I handed out fliers and put ads in the newspaper, both the physical copy and their online sites, plus radio spots. Did people still listen to the radio? I hoped so. But just to be on the safe side, I’d hit the major social media apps too. Even now, I imagined all the eyes catching sight of my new café, making them wonder if they wouldn’t like a coffee, and why not treat themselves to a delicious snack? They’d earned it, after all.

I sighed blissfully, hope and anticipation making me giddy. Yes, it was still early, but it wouldn’t be long now.

Just a year ago, I wouldn’t have imagined this possible. I’d been working part-time as a line cook at a Greek restaurant in my little hometown of North Salter, saving every dime so that I could one day open my little dream café, maybe ten or 20 years in the future. I didn’t have many bills, since I was living with my grandfather so I could help him out around the house. He was getting older, and he’d done so much for me and Dad growing up that I really didn’t mind doing the laundry and shoveling the snow in the winter. I did most of the cooking and baking too, much to my grandfather’s chagrin.

“You’re stirring it too fast,” Pops would say, backseat baking from his seat at the table, leaning as far forward as he could without falling, just to watch. “You need to be gentle, or the texture will be too dense and you’ll end up with a heavy cake. You don’t want any of your future customers to break a tooth. Fold it… That’s right, like that.” He never bandied about his praise, so when I heard it, I knew I’d earned it fair and square. It always made me feel like standing in warm sunshine.

Thinking about Pops always made my whole body ache, a fresh reminder that he was gone, picking off the scab from the slowly healing wound of his loss. He was the whole reason I’d started baking in the first place. My dad had been pretty young when he had me, just out of high school. My alpha father was never in the picture, never wanted to be, and I guess I’d been quite the handful, so my pops had started to watch me on the weekends to give my dad a break.

That first Friday, I’d been four years old, and I’d just finished crying for a good hour because I thought my daddy had abandoned me. Pops just let me cry myself out, and when I finally picked myself up off the floor, he’d tugged a massive t-shirt of his over my head and set me on a chair so I could reach the counter. “Let’s make a mess,” he’d said. I didn’t remember it myself, but it was his favorite story. I must’ve heard it a million times. The way he told it, I was some kind of baking prodigy, knowing just the right amount of cinnamon to add without being told.

I laughed, my eyes stinging with the memory. He would’ve loved my café. The floor was a deep brown hardwood, the walls sage green, and the ceiling a light sky blue. I’d placed potted ferns and ivies and vines all over the open space, giving the whole café an outdoors vibe. All because Pops had said there was something soothing about the color green. Humans evolved in nature, he said, surrounded by trees and grass, and he believed that bringing a little piece of nature indoors could stave off depression. That it could ground you in the moment. I wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but I’d always loved it. It was why I’d decided to call my café Grounded. Well, that and coffee grounds, obviously.

The excitement of opening day had started to wear off by 9am when I’d only had three customers for what I would’ve considered the breakfast rush. Two of them were tourists brandishing a guidebook who were disappointed when I couldn’t give them any sightseeing information, since I was new to the city too. And the third customer was someone who had wandered in by accident, intending to go next door to the insurance place, but he’d seemed embarrassed after I greeted him so enthusiastically that he ordered, “Whatever’s good.”

I mean, I didn’t expect to break the bank today, but by the time 6pm had rolled around, I’d barely had a dozen customers since I opened. Literally thousands of people walking past, and nobody wanted coffee? It was impossible . The math didn’t math! At this rate, I wouldn’t even make enough to assign myself a wage, let alone pay the bills. I had a bit of money saved up to get me started, leftover from my grandpa’s will, but that would only go so far.

My only staff member, Aubrey, was leaning against the counter, cell phone in hand, texting or streaming or… I dunno, whatever teenagers did on their phones. Her blond hair was pulled into two pigtails, making her look even younger than her 17 years. I probably should’ve told her to put her phone away and get back to work, but it wasn’t like there was any work do to. I’d come in early to make all the pastries, and there were only so many times you could wipe down the tables—especially co nsidering nobody had sat at one all day. Besides, I was scared to upset her because I couldn’t afford for her to quit. Hers was the only resume I’d had to choose from, and unfortunately, because she was still in high school, she could only work evenings and weekends.

The whole situation was beyond frustrating. I couldn’t come up with a single reason for why nobody wanted to work here. Was I not offering enough money? It was a pretty slack job, especially since it was just standing around so far. Did I smell bad? Had I somehow contracted the plague and no one had told me? Was the café haunted? Cursed, more likely.

This had been my dream since I made my first cinnamon bun when I was a kid, and after all the research I’d done, it had seemed like a sound business venture. The neighborhood was perfect for this! But if anything, I’d seen people curl their lips up at my audacity. Like, how dare I open a café?

I swallowed on repeat, the sides of my throat sticking, gut squirming. What if this was all a mistake? What if, after my grandfather left me all that money to make my dream come true, it just flopped. The truth was, my pops had always been my anchor, all while encouraging me to dream big. With him by my side, I knew nothing bad would happen. That I could live within fantasies of cafés and bakeries without having to worry about floating away.

Without my anchor, though… I was adrift.

With a frustrated sigh, I grabbed a plastic tray from under the counter and started lining up rows of small paper cups on it. “What are you doing?” Aubrey asked, looking up from the screen she held six inches from her face. I was surprised she’d noticed I was doing anything at all.

“I’m going to drum up some business, of course.” Because I refused to just stand here and let everyone pass by. I would give them all free samples of coffee and cherry danishes, because if they would just try it, I knew they would love it.

Balancing my tray, I stepped outside. It was a little crisp, a bite to the air. Perfect for a hot drink. “Hello, can I interest you in… Pardon me, but you look cold. Perhaps you could use a…” Why wouldn’t anyone stop to listen? Maybe it was just me, but it seemed almost like people sped up to walk past me.

There was a young couple walking past. The twenty-something woman looked up and made eye contact, and I pounced. “Free coffee!” I yelped, making her jump.

In her shock, her legs locked up, forcing her partner to stop too. She relaxed slightly, and her eyes panned down to the sweet pastries I’d cut up. “Oh! Those look lovely.” She was nodding, already reaching for one of the paper cups when the man cleared his throat sharply.

“What would Hugh think if he saw you drinking that?” he whispered, just loud enough that I heard him. He took her hand from where it was still hovering in midair and urged her to keep walking.

An intense look of guilt scrunched up her features. “Oh, you’re right. Sorry,” she said to me as she backed away. Her look of pity seemed genuine, though no less confusing.

They hurried off down the block, and I frowned after them. Who the hell is Hugh?

There was clearly something I was missing, something I couldn’t hope to understand—at least not today. Sighing, I trudged back inside and set my tray down on the counter. “You know what, Aubrey, why don’t you head on home. I think I’m just going to close early.”

“Are you sure?” She looked sad for me, but like she didn’t know how to make it better.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I was dejected, absolutely, but not broken. I would come back and try again tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. This was a dream worth fighting for. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And make sure you help yourself to something out of the display case. I made too much.”

My original plan for when I got home had been to unpack my kitchen boxes, maybe hang some clothes in the closet, since I finally got the keys for my new apartment yesterday. Instead, I kicked off my shoes and sank down into my grandpa’s old couch with a tub of ice cream and a spoon. Most of my stuff was still in boxes, bags, and bins, but I didn’t need much to do some quality wallowing. What I needed right now was a distraction, so I flicked on the TV and turned on my favorite reality dating show, Lonely Alpha .

This season’s alpha was Leo Schuster, pro NFL player for the Comets. He honestly seemed like a bit of an ass, overly cocky and full of himself, not my type in the least, but he was hot to look at and brought the drama, which was ultimately the whole point to the show. I allowed myself to get sucked in, laughing as the omegas all fell over themselves trying to get Leo’s attention.

Sometimes, I had no idea why the show’s ratings were so good, but then one of the omegas “accidentally” fell in the pool, and they had to blur out the crotch of his shorts when they got too see-through.

And that was the moment when a spark flickered somewhere in the darkness at the back of my mind. Huh… I followed the tingle of a growing idea.

Business might’ve been slow today, but what I really needed was a gimmick. And if there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that sex sells.

My grin widened until it stretched ear to ear. I knew just what to do to drum up a little business.

LONELY ALPHA 4EVA

BottomsUp: I would top Leo Schuster any day. *swoon*

RimJobbins: No way he’d bottom. Daaaamn dat ass tho

MuffinTop: The whole debacle is like a car crash… and I can’t look away. Why can’t I look away?!

Dripdrip69: Welcome to the club muffin. Ur one of us now

CreamyJoe: This season of Lonely Alpha is truly inspiring. Seriously, though, I think the show might’ve just saved my ass.