English Coffee and Irish Beer
By Sailor Onyx Pluto
Chapter One – Black, Cream or Sugar?
"I have two espressos: a solo with whipped cream and a double with steamed nonfat milk!" I called out into the din of customers currently occupying 90% of the Café Bean's interior. It had been a crazy morning and an even crazier lunch hour, but now I had finally finished the last order in my line and was extremely exhausted.
After Mrs. Mansley had picked up her triple dose of caffeine and gave me her usual appreciative smile, I breathed a small sigh of relief then went about my task of cleaning the espresso machine before my boss came back from his break. Tom Jameson always had this knack for going on his lunch just before the stock brokers, bankers, and insurance reps came in from the nearby Change Alley, the World Bank, and the London Stock Exchange, leaving me and Angelina Berkowitz to fend for ourselves. While she was in no way, shape, or form related to the Son of Sam serial killer from the states, Angelina was a beast, and a vicious one at that, when it came to handling the Bean's lunch rush.
She could sling espresso with the best of them when she was on the bar, but today, the register was her bitch as she punched orders through faster than people could spit them out, and all with a smile and a disarming sense of humor. Me, on the other hand, could grind, tamp, and brew the meanest punch of coffee sweetness this side of the pond with a consistency and attention to detail that would make Barista Championship competitors cry.
Smiling to myself, I gingerly wiped down the silver-and-black sleek monstrosity in front of me, made sure the steam wand was properly calibrated, and that there were no stray grounds anywhere. Tom may have been out of the building but it'll be a cold day in Hell the day I have him come back to a messy café!
As soon as I was satisfied with how everything looked, I tossed the rag into the dirty laundry bin on my way to the basement, grabbing the keys to the liquor storage off of Tom's desk, surprised that I had even found said keys with how cluttered he always kept everything.
Café Bean was not only a specialty coffeehouse but also a bar of sorts after two, and it already being half past one, I only had thirty minutes to do what I needed to do. I wasn't worried though. Having done this for the last five years of my working life, I could get everything done in fifteen minutes, leaving myself plenty of time to have my double espresso with almond and mint chocolate syrup and a splash of whole milk.
The thought of my little bit of momentary indulgence put a bounce in my step as I picked up an empty box from the trash area that was still dry and intact, and grabbed two bottles of each of he following: Baileys Original, Mint Chocolate, Crème Caramel, and Hazelnut, Kahlua, Crème de cassis, and what I had left of the Carolans Irish Cream then hauled it all upstairs as fast as I could without tripping over my shoes.
As soon as I'd lined up all the bottles in their riser to the lower left of the espresso machine but well out of anybody's reach from the other side of the counter, I grabbed my box, flew back downstairs and loaded it up with Guinness, Irish Mist (whiskey), Crown Royal, Bombay Sapphire, and Tia Maria, and ran back up the stairs to put it all in its place. I put the beer in an open top cooler that was already filled with ice then the remaining liquor in another riser next to the other one.
Double-checking to make sure I had enough whipped cream, fruit garnishes, spices, and other various toppings and finishes, I gave the counter another quick wipe down then pulled out my own private stock of my favorite beans. I had roasted the organic Bali green beans to Full City then blended them with some banana split-flavored ones that I'd purchased from one of my favorite suppliers. The right ratio gave the espresso a taste reminiscent to vanilla bean ice cream with bananas, cherries, and chocolate syrup, making for a dessert-like drink.
I measured out enough for two shots, tamped the grounds, wiped off the edge, fitted it into the machine, and cued up a double. As the sweet streams of caramel-colored delight flowed into the shot glasses, I poured an ounce each of almond and mint chocolate syrup into a demitasse, just in time for my custom shots to finish then I topped the concoction off with three-quarters of an ounce of cold whole milk. I let it sit for a few seconds as I disposed of the used grounds and quickly cleaned the equipment.
I picked up the tiny cup and threw back the whole thing in one swig and was just beginning to savor it when I heard, "Did I miss anything, ladies?" Tom's snarky comment as he walked by the hand-off and up to the register. Me and Angelina playfully rolled our eyes as she called up the numbers for the last hour (we get hour-long lunch breaks here) and scanned the screen in an almost nonchalant manner, which I found very amusing.
"Oh, not much, boss," she began, her accent still holding some of its Welsh overtones. "Just three thousand pounds in the last hour, give or take," she swung her chestnut brown head in my direction. "Right Jewel?" My name was really Julia but everyone here called me Jewel, which worked for me because no one needs to know my real name unless I want them to.
"Aye," I responded with a toss of my black hair. "In fact, we're already set up for the drinkin' crowd." While that kind of rush wasn't unusual for us, Tom's deep brown eyes went wide.
"Three thousand?" he stepped behind the counter. "We seem to be getting busier and busier every day," his expression became thoughtful just then as he regarded me and Ange. "I'll tell you two what: these numbers keep up over the end of the week, I'll give each of you a… three pound an hour raise. How's that sound?" I think we were speechless at this point because that was a lot of cash for him to be offering us and I started to wonder how he'd be able to do it while still covering overhead and the suppliers.
I was about to voice my concerns when he held up a hand as if he knew what I was going to say. "No arguments, Jewel," and I thought I heard Ange's jaw snap shut. "You ladies work harder and more effectively than just about anyone else I've hired and you more than deserve it." He moved to go to his desk in the back. "Besides, if business continues like this, I may just make the raise even higher," and with that, he strolled out of sight, leaving us dumbfounded for more than a few moments.
It wasn't until I heard, "Pardon me, lasses, but if ye were tryin' to catch bugs ya might do bet'er wit honey 'stead of yer mouths." I turned my attention to the unmistakable Irish Borough. "'Sides, woul'nt wanna ruin tat pretty face of yers," and my mouth snapped shut as the most beautiful gray-green eyes glinted impishly into my stark blue ones.
It took me a second to process that he was standing at the register and I quickly elbowed Ange in the ribs, indicating that she should take his order.
"Oh, pardon me," she apologized as she stepped up and I went back to the bar area. "What can we get for you, sir?" she asked with her usual pretty smile. He looked up at the menu boards and appeared as though he was about to order when I saw his gorgeous eyes move to the smaller menu by the POS; the one where I came up with a signature drink when I was barring, and I felt a smile tug at my lips.
"Wat be a Thames Zest?" and Ange looked at me to describe it.
I silently thanked Hecate that no one else was in line and that most of the other patrons had already gone back to work. "It's one of my many signature drinks that I decided to feature today." He gave me his full attention and it took every ounce of my willpower not to colour up at that moment. "I start off with two shots of an Ethiopian coffee from the Sidamo region, and mix that with a half of an ounce of Irish Mist for a bit of a mellow honey spike." I noticed that Ange had a goofy grin that said she knew where this was going, but I proceeded to ignore it for the time being.
"I then add a half of an ounce of both lemon and vanilla syrup, three ounces of cold cream, top it with some ice, a dollop of cinnamon-spiced whipped cream, and a twist of lemon zest to finish it off." He seemed to be taking all of that in since it was obviously a lot to digest, but before I could ask if he had any questions, he said:
"I'ma have two of 'em, lass," he ran a calloused hand over his golden-blonde hair. "One fer me," he lowered his voice and leaned in close, "one fer ye," and while I was still in momentary shock, he looked back over to Ange to pay for what he wanted, who was more than happy to ring him up.
"That's very generous of you, sir," I started while making the first Thames Zest, "but I'm not off the clock yet-"
"Ya are now!" I heard a familiar voice ring out, and I knew all-too-well who it was.
"Afternoon, Murphy," Ange greeted the roguishly cute Irishman before I could. I'd had a crush on him ever since he started here, but that obviously flew out the window when I'd laid eyes on the gorgeous man in front of me whose name I had yet to uncover.
" 'Ey Connor!" Murphy exclaimed as he clapped said gorgeous man on the back. " 'Bout time ye drug yer arse in here, brudda. I been tellin' ye 'bout it fer six monts now!"
"I know ya have, Murph," Connor rolled his eyes at my now-former crush. "I only lived wit ya me whole life, an' e'ery time ya get a new job, ya always yap yer head off 'bout it!"
"No more so den ye, bro." That was when they seemed to notice us staring at them while they were exchanging words.
Murphy seemed to have a light go on behind those beautiful brown eyes and he smiled. "Pardon us, lasses, but I was jus' tellin' me brudda 'ere tat he shoulda come in 'ere sooner."
He probably would've continued if I hadn't spoken up. "Hold the phone: You've been employed here for the last six months and you never once told us you had a brother." Amidst my shock, I had somehow managed to finish the first Thames Zest Connor had asked for but I had yet to start the second one.
"Yeah, Murphy," Ange interjected, hands on her slender hips. "What's the idea?"
He didn't miss a beat. "I jus' wanted 'em ta come in and meet ya lovely lasses on his own and looks he finally did." He clapped his brother on the back once more then walked behind the counter to clock in for his shift.
"How 'bout tat second drink, lass?" The Irishman asked, bringing me back to where I was.
"Do you mind if I punch out first since Murphy is here then I'll make that second one?"
"No worries, lass," he winked at me. "I jus' be o'er 'ere, waitin' fer ye," and he walked to one of the more private two-seater tables where the lighting had a bit of an amber rose tint to it. Tom's subtleties at work.
"Ahem," I turned to see Ange with a big grin and an impish glint in her eyes. "So, are you gonna go over there or are you more content to stare for the rest of your life?" I blinked then moved to go punch out as Murphy was on his way back to the floor.
"I tell ya dis, Jewel," he said as I approached him. "Me brudda don't go after anyone, so by 'em waitin' 'round fer ye means he likes ya lots." I definitely coloured up then as the realization dawned on me that he must have overheard Connor say he'd be sitting in the café. "Ahhh, don't be nervous, girl. He be a good guy and who'd know bet'er den me, 'sides our Ma, course."
"Cheers, Murphy." I smiled as I untied my apron and headed towards the punch clock. "You made me feel much better about this." He turned to go to his spot but I suddenly remembered something and called:
"Murphy?" He turned around. "Would you be so kind as to make the Thames Zest that your brother bought for me?" He just winked and strolled to the bar as I went to gather my Darth Vader messenger bag and team jacket from when I used to bowl every weekend.
"Afternoon, Tom," I called over my shoulder.
"Afternoon, Jewel. Enjoy your two days off." I always worked Monday through Friday since those were the most active days for the stock exchange, and thus, the busiest days for us. I usually needed a half of a day to recover from the madness then the rest of it to clean my flat. That routine would more than likely change today since I would not be heading home right away.
Suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious, I stepped into the washroom to check that my hair wasn't sticking out anywhere but decided to take it down and give it a quick brush then put on a refresher coat of berry mocha lipstick, which I really didn't need but I do weird shit when I get nervous.
Giving myself a final once over, I took a deep breath and exited the washroom to see that Murphy had finished my Thames Zest and was waiting to hand it to me as Ange was taking care of the first customer in a line of at least ten or more.
"Much appreciated, Murphy," I said as I picked up my drink and all he did was wink in reply, making me wonder if he'd put some extra Irish Mist in it to get me to chill out a bit. I mentally kicked myself for that thought as I walked over to where Connor was patiently waiting. Murphy didn't seem like the type to spike a lady's drink so that his brother could get laid.
As I got closer to the table, I felt the pesky butterflies in my stomach start to flutter again but it quickly dissipated as the incredibly hot Irishman stood up and pulled out the chair for me then gently pushed it back in when I sat down.
"Cheers," I said, not knowing what else to say. I absolutely hated it when I felt awkward around men since I was such a strong character most of the time.
"Don mention it, lass," Connor took a sip of his drink, savoring its flavor. I felt a smile tugging at my lips. I was glad that he liked it. I took a sip of my own, mainly just to have something to do.
"So, Connor," I began, twisting a lock of hair around my finger. "What is it that you do for work?" He smiled and I think my heart skipped a few beats just then.
"If I told ya, I'd have ta kill ya," and he winked at me. I seriously think I felt my heart stop when he did that while I found myself wondering at what he meant by that. He took a sip of his Thames Zest, as he seemed to be watching my expression at what he'd said, and actually laughed when I became somewhat confused.
"What is so amusing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Jus' yer face, girl," he snickered. " 'Twas only kiddin' 'bout me work." He looked around then, as if someone might be listening then leaned in, causing me to do the same, and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "I'ma writer but don be tellin' anyone. Don want me mug in da papers 'round 'ere."
I was trying to figure out if he was kidding or not, but when he didn't smile or snicker, I knew he was telling the truth. I sat back and studied his face for a moment, trying to place who he really was since I was usually pretty up to speed with most of the authors in this country but on his, I was drawing a blank.
"So lass," he interrupted my train of thought, "since ye know me name, how 'bout tellin' me yers?"
I had to think about it for a few seconds since I never gave my real name out to anyone while I was at work; even my nametag said 'Jewel.' I made my choice after about a minute of thinking it over. "Julia. Julia Starr."
He held out his hand for mine, and when I gave it to him, he kissed the back of it lightly. "Connor MacManus. Pleased to meet ya."
