Free The Espressologist by Kristina Springer

Seriously, no turkey talk. : (
    EM2009: Y? What’s wrong?
    baristachick09: Em, am I totally lame? Do u think Will likes me?
    EM2009: Will, who gave you his #, Will? Totally.
    baristachick09: That’s just it.
    EM2009: ???
    baristachick09: I called the #. Not in service.
    baristachick09: r u still there?
    EM2009: Yeah. Just thinking.
    baristachick09: It’s bad, right?
    EM2009: I dunno. Maybe, maybe not. Maybe something happened?
    baristachick09: Like what?
    EM2009: I don’t know, ask him when u c him.
    baristachick09: Maybe. : (
    EM2009: Cheer up. It’s a holiday! : )
    baristachick09: Y r u in such a good mood?
    EM2009: : ) : ) : )
    baristachick09: What? Tell me.
    EM2009: Cam=AWESOME.
    baristachick09: u talked to him?
    EM2009: Yeah. A few times. We were just IMing but he had to go help cook. OMG, what a sweetie.
    baristachick09: He is.
    EM2009: We r going out tomorrow night.
    baristachick09: u r? Cool.
    EM2009: u r ok with that, right? r u mad?
    baristachick09: No.
    EM2009: r u sure?
    baristachick09: Yeah.
    EM2009: Remember—u set us up . . .
    baristachick09: I know, I know. Not mad, promise. Just thinking about the Will thing.
    EM2009: Don’t let it ruin your day. 4real.
    baristachick09: Ok.
    EM2009: My mom is calling. Got2go. c u tomorrow, k?
    baristachick09: c u.
    I log off and sit back in my desk chair. I know I set Cam and Em up and I am happy that Em is happy but . . . I don’t know. I guess I’m a little surprised that they’ve hit it off so quickly. They’re both awesome, so I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. Ugh. It’s probably this whole Will thing making me feel weird. I push away from my computer, climb back into bed, and throw my fuzzy pink covers over my head. Maybe a nap will help.

    It’s still dark out after I’ve slowly trudged into the store. I can’t believe I have to work this early, but it’s Black Friday, our busiest day of the year. Everyone comes in for coffee to keepwarm and awake while they wait in line at electronics or toy stores or wherever else all the big sales are. I’m trying to mentally prepare for the day of craziness when I see a sleepy-eyed Em come in.
    â€œHey, Jane,” she says. She yawns and walks to the break room to put her stuff away. She comes back up front and helps me arrange the chairs.
    â€œTired?”
    She yawns. “Uh-huh.”
    â€œI’ll go make some drinks to wake us up.”
    â€œGood idea.”
    â€œHave you tried the maple macchiato yet?” I ask.
    â€œNo, but I’ll drink anything this morning. I need something to kick me into gear.”
    I step behind the counter and turn on the espresso machine. Derek comes out from his office and gives me a look.
    â€œJane, I need to see you,” he says.
    Shoot. He looks pissed. What could I have done now? I follow him back to his office and take a seat.
    â€œWhat’s up?” I ask.
    â€œWell,” he starts, “I don’t want to take the word of one employee over another, but if there is something going on I need to stop it right now.” I stare at him blankly.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?”
    â€œYou’ve been doing well lately, Jane. Really.”
    â€œOkay . . .”
    He sighs heavily. “Are you giving out free drinks to your friends?” he asks.
    â€œWhat?” I hope I sound shocked. “No, of course not! Who would say that about me?”
    â€œI really shouldn’t say,” he answers slowly, but instantly I know. It’s that stupid middle-aged Botox-faced Daisy.
    â€œDaisy told you that, didn’t she?” I ask. Derek holds up both hands in protest.
    â€œI really shouldn’t say,” he repeats, shaking his head from side to side.
    â€œYou don’t have to,” I say. “I know it is her—she is totally jealous of me. And how can you trust someone whose face doesn’t move when she talks? You