She walked into the coffee shop, utterly and entirely desperate. This was her last chance. At least, this or resigning herself to operating a brothel out of a cardboard box.
She held the application anxiously in her hand.
"Help needed. Inquire within."
She'd had little to no experience with café work, but she liked books and could smile on occasion.
After losing the lease on her last apartment and moving in with the girlhood gang—apparently credit cards were, perhaps, not the most economically sound manner of purchase- Johanna had told her of a job opening in the old coffee shop, The Den, had she heard of it? Hell, Eva was a writer. Of course she'd heard of it. The Den was one of those remnants of yesteryear. Half book shop, half coffee bar: it was a dirty, grimy place with sticky tables and the best latte in New York. She stopped in when she could afford it, which happened to be rarely.
She gathered up her gumption. It was about ten in the morning, in between the morning and lunch rushes. Whoever ran the joint, someone named Gardiner, had asked to meet her then. She swallowed whatever was nesting in her throat and stepped in.
She'd missed The Den. It really was the last real place in Manhattan. They'd always said they made all the bread from scratch. It was dark and filled with knotted walnut tables. Worn leather armchairs surrounded a roaring fire, despite the fact that it was only early autumn. She walked up to the wooden counter, coveting one of the scones. There was a bell, but she was hesitant to ring it. She looked round frantically. Johanna poked her head from the kitchen.
"Eva, darling, you're here. So happy you took me up on this."
"Not like I had much of a choice," Eva replied. Johanna laughed. They'd been friends in college but, after deciding to move to the big city for grad school, they had parted ways. Johanna had ended up going to fashion school for some end, while Eva had gone to NYU for what even she realized was an entirely useless graduate degree. Nevertheless, they'd both pushed on, renouncing each other's friendship over the past few years. On one of Eva's recent mental breakdowns, she'd grabbed a credit card and gone on a spree she wasn't particularly proud of. Upon returning her purchases, she'd run into Jo. They'd had the requisite chat, and Jo's part time gig as barista had come up. They'd become fast friends once again, and Eva moved in with Jo, along with three other girls from assorted schools in the city.
"Here, lemme show you around," Jo said, wiping her hands on her apron. "There aren't too many people here, so learning the ropes shouldn't be too hard."
"Jo, I don't technically work here yet."
"Nonsense, Vi'll love you."
"Vi?"
"She owns the place. She's great." Jo leant back, yelling into the kitchen. "Hey, Violet!" A smattering of writers coughed and looked askance. Jo ignored them. A shortish woman with a dark pixie cut came out, flour spattering her face. She was pretty enough for someone of her age, Eva guessed about forty, though she didn't really look it.
"You must be Eva," the woman said. "Johanna told me about you. Said you're a bookish type."
"Yeah, I guess," she said, muttering towards the floor.
"Studying?"
"Yeah. English at NYU."
"How much coffee do you drink a day?"
"More than I should."
"You read Calvino?"
"Took a class on Cosmicomics."
"How are you with dealing with these brats?" Violet gestured to the conglomeration of writers, who rolled their eyes and gave them dirty looks.
"They're alright, spend half my free time as one of them."
"What do you think about Elvis?"
"Dead, but excellent." Violet scoffed and shook her hand.
"Welcome to The Den," she said. "So, you've met Johanna, and you've met me. I think all that's left is Cute Mike. Hey, Mike!" She gave a shout down to the basement and received a muffled yell in response. Eva heard a dull sort of clatter up the stairs. A tallish sort of man, maybe 6'2" loped into the room. He was maybe 27, had an arm of sleeve tattoos and the dark spiked hair of someone who spends too much time on their morning toilette. He too was coated in a fine layer of flour.
"Right," Violet said. "Eva, this is Mike Lucas, some chick called him Cute Mike once and the name stuck." Cute Mike smiled. He had a chipped tooth, the left incisor. "Cute Mike runs the bakery downstairs, takes care of most all the food, and all the other assorted odd jobs that no one else can really be trusted with. He really cleaned the place up. So, Mike, this is Eva. Say hi." He gave a sort of wave.
"We like Cute Mike," Johanna said. Vi had a sort of blank look on her face. It remained for a few seconds before she snapped to attention.
"Right, your job. You'll be working the counter with Johanna, making drinks and dealing with the hooligans. They shouldn't be too bad, just whip'm back into shape if you need to. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some bread to attend to. There's a spare apron behind the counter. Feel free to have a macaroon, they're awesome." With that, Violet sauntered down the stairs with a banging of her motorcycle boots. Johanna looked at Eva.
"Isn't she awesome?" she asked.
"Absolutely excellent," Eva replied. Cute Mike was leaning against the espresso bar.
"So, Miss Eva, tell me about yourself," he said. He was pretty cute, the more she looked at him. Slender but built. A bit wiry, but impossibly impressive arms. She giggled against her better judgment.
"Well, umm, I'm Eva. Hi. About 24, working for my advanced in English. Like most English majors, I have this hideously far-fetched idea that I'm to be a writer, though I've made admittedly little progress on that front. I'm a Sagittarius, allergic to strawberries, and enjoy long walks on the beach." She scratched her head. "I'm not really sure what you want me to say."
"What do you think about Elvis?"
"What is it about you people and Elvis?"
"Call me a theorist. What do you think of 'em?"
"Impossibly excellent, though sadly deceased." Mike looked at Johanna.
"What? Vi's letting in people who fail the interview now?" Johanna merely laughed and went about mopping up a table.
"Well," Mike said, "Despite your lack of an open mind here, I think we're going to grow to be excellent friends." He stuck his hand out. She shook it.
Eva went home that night utterly exhausted and the tiniest bit drunk. After shuffling about The Den all day, she, Jo, and Cute Mike had gone out for a drink. Jo had left after a bit, citing homework, but she and Mike had stayed for hours and perhaps a few too many beers. Apparently, Mike had grown up in the same town as Eva, albeit a few years apart. The commiserated over the tiny shithole that was Meryton, though Mike was shocked when he figured out that Eva was a Barringer of Longbourn.
"I can't believe you were that little girl in that big old house all by yourself."
"Yeah, it got a little lonely."
"We were all jealous of you when we were kids," he said, taking a swig of his beer. "That massive house with just you and your parents, it must have been awesome."
"On a certain level, yeah. But they drive you crazy after a while. I mean, for the most part, I was all by myself and God knows my mother was the most neurotic creature to have ever walked this earth. Utterly terrifying. All she ever thought about was getting me married. It's insane, the amount of stress she put on it. Like I could only be successful if I had a three carat rock weighing down my hand."
"I know the feeling. Dad almost shot me when I said I was moving to New York. Mike, you'll never find a wife. Mike, you're wasting your talent and your education and everything we've ever given you. Mike, you're going to end up a male spinster living in a gutter somewhere because you couldn't pull your shit together."
"Wow," Eva said, pausing. "We're fucked up."
"I'll drink to that."
"Cheers," they said, clinking their glasses.
Cute Mike walked a stumbling Eva back to her apartment. After struggling with her key for a few minutes, Mike knocked and Eva was rescued by Jo and a gaggle of girls.
"Friends," Eva mumbled. "They's friends. Roommates." She pointed at each as she said their names. "Jo, Maria, Kathy, and Libby. They go to school with me. Katie and Libba are twins." Eva let out a long belch, summoning a giggle from the girls. Maria rolled her eyes and walked away.
"Hi girls, I'm Mike." The girls laughed and preened. "Jo, I brought you a present."
"Hope she wasn't too much to handle," Jo said. "She can be a bit rowdy when, well, you know."
"Lies. Slander. Mike, defend my honor," she said, toppling about. Mike laughed.
"She was great, plenty of fun. I think we'll all be pretty good friends around here. So," he said, handing care of Eva over, "See you tomorrow?"
"If I can dispel with her headache, I'll see you when I can. I'll be in by nine; I'm guessing eleven for her. Vi'll be fine with that, yeah?"
"Should be good. Vi likes her, thinks she's a free spirit."
"Mike, it's late for you, and impossibly out of your way."
"I like Brooklyn."
"Don't you have to be in by six?"
"I didn't want her to walk home by herself. It's not Meryton, you know?"
"You gentleman. It's so weird you guys are from the same town."
"It's fun to see someone from back home. Well," he said, buttoning his coat. "I'm off. Let me know if you need anything."
"Of course," Jo replied. Mike tipped an imaginary cap and whistled down the stairs. Jo closed the door and went to take care of Eva. Eva had taken it upon herself to empty the pantry of chocolate and create a nest in the living room.
"Come on, hon. Let's get you to bed."
"Not without my friends. Come, mes Amis," she said, gesturing to the chocolate. "We shall build a barricade."
"Alright, up we go." Jo heaved Eva to her feet, ignoring the kick she got as Eva frantically tore after the chocolate. "Maria!"
"What?"
"I need your help." Maria grumbled into the living room.
"Next time she gets plastered and I have to deal with her sorry ass, she sure as hell better be taking me."
"Just help me get her into bed." Maria rolled her eyes and grabbed Eva's legs. A thrashing Eva turned silent when she realized she was outnumbered, and promptly fell asleep. Jo and Maria heaved her into bed, shutting the door behind the snored.
"So, that Mike is pretty cute," Maria said.
Author's Note: Ok, thought I might as well get a real chapter up for once. So, I think I'm actually going to have a schedule for this bloody thing, and I was thinking Mondays and Thursdays. Feel free to hold me to it. I think this one might actually be rather nice.
A few references to Ten Inch Hero, for those who saw my copyright infringement.
Much love and best wishes,
Zoe
