Here we go.

I put on a little show, like I’m embarrassed. I’m not, but I think it will make Lucy feel more parental. “That was Nick Marino, but I’m sure Patty already told you that.” I sip my water and add an eye roll for dramatic effect. The old Lucy would ask me if Nick was a good kisser or something just as embarrassing. That is something a cool aunt would do, not my guardian. I don’t want her to think Nick is irresponsible, so I tell her he had a beer at the party and didn’t feel comfortable driving me home. “He felt really bad and thought I should call you to pick me up.” It’s sort of true. Nick waited until he felt the effects of the thizz starting to wear off before he got behind the wheel. Even I had started to come down. As soon as the euphoria subsided, I kind of freaked out about the time and what Lucy was thinking, so Nick drove me home.

Lucy’s brow furrows. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Well, I don’t have a cell phone.” I state the obvious. “And, I didn’t want to leave. I was having fun.” Lucy’s face brightens. I’ll let her think her pep talk about socializing worked. “Am I in trouble?”

Lucy glowers at me for a second and sets her mug down. “I guess not. Please call me next time and let me know you’re ok.” She takes a bite of her eggs and smiles. She looks happy now. She looks like my mom. They’re only half-sisters, but they share the same dark hair and light blue eyes. That’s all they share. Lucy is the polar opposite of my mom. Lucy is the kind of person that dances at street fairs and wears elf ears on Christmas. My mother was refined, and took herself way too serious. Sometimes I hated that about her. When I was little, I used to wish Lucy was my mom. I hate that about myself.

The walk to work feels quicker, the customers seem friendlier, and even Mary is less annoying. She flips her hair in my face as she places three empty mugs on the counter. Ok, maybe I’m wrong about Mary. She isn’t working, she’s just here to torture me after spending the morning at her mother’s salon. Mary is in full-blown makeup, fake eyelashes and all. Her dark brown hair cascades down the back of her pink sweater in perfect chocolate waves.

“Dani, sweetie, can you make Mrs. Montgomery one of your hazelnut lattes?” Patty is sitting at the gossip table in the corner. Every now and then I hear the name Marino. I don’t know if they’re talking about Nick’s grandmother, Mariann, or their business in general. Just hearing his name, in any context, sends my heart into overdrive. I want to jump on the counter and yell: I kissed Nick Marino!

“Sure.” I pull a large glass mug from a hook under the counter. I pump two squirts of hazelnut syrup into the glass and place it on the espresso machine. I’m preparing the milk when the bells above the door jingle. I pull the milk from the steamer, pour it into the glass, and realize the room has gone silent. I look around the espresso machine and find Nick standing at the counter.

He smiles so big his eyes turn into tiny slits. “Hi.” His voice is hoarse, like mine, from talking all night.

I jump back and freak out at the status of my hair. I showered this morning, but I’m a sweaty mess now. I wipe my face with a semi-clean towel and sprinkle a little cinnamon on top of Mrs. Montgomery’s drink. I place the glass mug on the counter. “Hazelnut latte.”

Nick smirks at my lack of enthusiasm. It has nothing to do with my feelings for him. I have to suppress the urge to jump over the counter and into his arms. I don’t want Patty to have a heart attack. I peek back around the espresso machine and offer a smile. “Small latte?”

“Extra foam,” he adds and places four dollars on the counter. Two more dollars than the price of the coffee. Is he actually tipping me?

I make Nick’s latte in a ceramic mug, and I make the milk extra hot so he will have to wait for it to cool down to drink. Sneaky barista trick. “What are you doing here?” I ask as I slide his drink across the bar with two packets of sugar.

Nick rips open the sugar and pours it into his mug. “I’m starting my plan.” His plan? I look at him, confused, and he arches his eyebrow at me. Holy hell, he was serious about making me fall in love with him. He is crazy and unbelievably adorable. Nick leans against the counter with his mug in his hand and looks around. Mary practically chokes on her bran muffin when he smiles at her. “Morning ladies.”

“Good morning, Nick. You’re out and about early,” Patty says in a disapproving tone.

I look at the clock; it’s ten thirty, not that early. Lucy must have called Patty and told her I didn’t get home until three in the morning because Nick was boozing it up at a party.

“I was just craving some coffee.” He winks at me. His comment causes a buzz at Patty’s table.

“How is your grandmother? I haven’t seen her in a while. Tell her to stop by and say hi.”

Nick’s face tightens at the mention of his grandmother. “I will, Mrs. Murphy.”

I’ve never heard anyone call Patty by her formal name. Even Patty is taken aback. She glares at him over the top of her glasses like he just made a smart remark.

“Patty, I’m going to take a fifteen-minute break.” I untie my apron and toss it on the counter. Patty checks the clock as if she’s actually going to time me.

Nick walks to the door and holds it open for me. He’s so sweet. Can’t Patty see that?

I choose a table farthest away from the main window and all of the curious eyes. Nick doesn’t seem to mind or even notice that we are the object of everyone’s attention. You can’t look like he does and expect people not to stare. If I’m going to be with him, it’s something I’ll have to accept. I just wish I had on some lip gloss or something, and it would be nice if I didn’t smell like bleach and coffee. I’m going to have to make an effort to look better.

“You look beautiful,” Nick says, as if he’s reading my mind. I roll my eyes. It’s a knee-jerk reaction. “I’m serious.” He runs the back of his hand down my sweaty cheek. “How do you feel?”

I felt better after I ate breakfast, but I’ve had two cups of coffee since I started my shift and I think the caffeine reignited my buzz. I’m definitely not normal. I tell Nick I feel fine.

“That was some good shit, right?” Nick takes a sip of his coffee and leans back in his chair. He looks proud, like he made the pills himself.

“It was my first time, so I don’t really have a frame of reference.” I tilt my head towards Nick and smile. See, this is not normal Dani. I’m not flirty, and this is definitely flirty.

“You’re right. We should try it again just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. How about tonight?”

I can’t tell if he’s joking, but the thought of taking it again excites me. Lucy is working a double, she’ll be gone all night. As far she knows, I’ll be home, sleeping. Because that’s what good Dani does. She stays home, alone, and sleeps. “We could do it again, but the results won’t be accurate. We need another source. Do you know any other honest drug dealers?” I’m totally joking, but Nick looks flustered. I don’t know why I even speak. Nothing I say comes out right.

Nick clears his throat and takes another drink. His cheeks look flushed. I can’t tell if he’s blushing or if it’s just from the steam rising out of his mug. “What do you have against drug dealers?”

I hate that he isn’t getting my sarcasm. My father dedicated most of his career to helping drug dealers get a fair trial. He was always quick to defend his clients to anyone who challenged him. He said it wasn’t always about flashy cars and power. Most of them were just trying to feed their families. He also said it was a business built on desperation, fear, and violence. Drug dealers are one-dimensional, it’s all about the money. It has to be. It’s the only way they can live with the consequences of their product. Turning their neighbors and family members into addicts was a necessary evil. My father never claimed his clients were innocent. His job was to make sure they were treated fairly. That was their right, regardless of the crime. That’s the only way he could live with himself. My mother hated it. Not just because he worked the cases from a home office and had some pretty shady clients visit every now and then. She hated that he offered his services for free. My father said it offset all the shitty things he had to do for his day job. He worked as in-house counsel for a consulting firm. He hated the corporate culture, the elitist attitudes. His pro-bono work was always straight forward. No bullshit. They knew what they were getting with him. He didn’t have to play any games. He said most of his pro-bono clients were good people in bad situations. I loved that about my father. He always saw the good in people. No matter how horrible their crimes were.