2.

… A month later …

“I would like to have a blueberry muffin with some whipped cream and that lovely cherry on top,” said a middle-aged brunette. The woman had a nice smile on her face as she stared at Joan, who wrote out her order in a small book.

“Will that be all, ma’am?” Joan asked; the woman shook her head, and she turned to leave when the woman called her again.

Joan closed her eyes and let out a sigh before opening them and trying to hide the irritation that was gradually building in her. If the woman would just order at once and not stop her every time she turned.

She turned to the woman and wore a forced smile, then asked in a surprisingly calm tone, “Is there anything else you’d like to add to your order, ma’am?”

“Oh yes, darling. If it’s not too much of a bother, I would like some coffee added to it and a slice of cheesecake.” The woman chuckled lightly and flipped her hair. “Well, except if you have one made with blueberry.” She laughed again, and Joan looked at her in wonder of her amusement.

“A cup of coffee, a slice of cheesecake, and a blueberry muffin with whipped cream and a cherry on top,” she read out her order to confirm. “Do you need to add anything else?” she asked.

“Oh no, that will do just fine for me, thank you.” The woman appreciated it and picked up her phone to browse.

Joan stared at the woman for some seconds before letting out another sigh and turning to leave. A woman's voice called her before she could take a step.

She whipped around fast and asked, “What?” with her voice slightly raised.

Her face reddened when she realized she yelled at the wrong customer, seeing as the brunette was on a call.

She walked towards the blonde-haired woman. A man with dark hair was sitting in front of her with his back hunched and face dull, like he could be anywhere.

'He could at least pretend to like her company and not act like a douche,' she said to herself but just ignored him and focused her attention on her.

“Good afternoon, ma’am and sir. What would you like to order?”

The blonde looked at the man who now had shades covering his eyes. “I would like a latte and a slice of cheesecake, and he will have black coffee with cheesecake too.”

“Just black coffee?” She glanced at the man and then returned her gaze to the lady.

“Yes, just black coffee.”

“Okay then, I will get your orders to you soon.” She smiled and turned to leave but stopped when the man spoke.

“With sugar, thanks,” he added.

Joan paused for a while as she looked at the man for some seconds before turning back and heading for the kitchen.

“Having a rough day?” Camila comes in from the kitchen to help prepare the orders.

“Mrs. Brunette is here with her regular annoying orders, and I’ve got Blondie and the dark-haired man who is taking this coffee I am making.” She glanced at Camila, who looked like she just woke up from a long nap. “You took a really long nap,” she comments with a smile, which Camila returned.

“I needed it, to be honest.” Camilla yawned. “Need me to take this to Mrs. Brunette?”

“Thank you, I could use that break from her,” she flashed. Camilla gave a grateful look and then arranged the coffee and cheesecake on the tray to serve the new customers.

As she approached the table, she noticed that the man had gone already and the blonde lady sat there alone, looking sad. She slowly walked to her and placed the tray on the table.

“Thank you,” the blonde said with a forced smile and looked away from Joan. “My date bailed on me, so I think I will just have to discard it,” the lady said sadly.

“I am sorry to hear that, but I can have it packed up for you instead,” Joan offered.

“No, it’s fine… Who likes plain bitter coffee anyways?” She laughed lightly, but it wasn’t genuine.

“Strange, eh? Some just like the bitter taste of the coffee with a little sugar.” She tried to sound cheerily. “Sorry about your date,” Joan apologized and was going to pack up the man’s order, but the blonde held her hand.

“Sit with me then; let’s have a little girl’s lunch,” she offered.

Joan smiled politely and was going to refuse when she spoke again.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it, and I could really use the company. I have to head back to my shoot by four, and it’s—" She checked her watch—"three hours to that," she added.

Joan considered her offer, then sat down to have lunch.

“Pardon my manners, I am Stacy, Stacy Helifield. What’s your name?” She offered her hand for a handshake, which Joan took.

“Joan Anderson, nice to meet you, Stacy.” She smiled, then took a sip from the bitter coffee and sighed.

“Nice to meet you too. You like that?” Stacy asked with her brows raised as she took a sip from her latte.

“Manageable; the sugar seems to improve the taste for me,” she said to her.

“If you say so.” She ate the cheesecake and made a satisfying sound at how good it tasted. “This is really good; who makes them?” she asked.

“Our very talented head baker, Killian”

“I want to hire him to make me cheesecakes for the rest of my life.” Stacy laughed, and Joan joined in.

“Then you will make lots of customers sad because they won’t have the chance to get his sweet cheesecakes,” Joan joked, and Stacy pouted.

“That’s sad, but I’ll definitely come here to eat these cheesecakes because they are nice,” said Stacy, and then she put her fork down as she looked at Joan, who was enjoying the coffee. “So, tell me…” she began.

Joan gazed at Stacy, a frown settled on her forehead. “Tell you what?”

“How did you get here?” she said.

Joan was taken aback by her question.

Stacy let out a light chuckle. “Oh come on, with how clear and smooth your skin looks and how ungracefully you walk around here—no offense—you seem like an heiress who is looking for love,” she explained with a shrug.

The frown on Joan’s face was slowly replaced by an amused one. “Heiress looking for love?” A grin settled on her lips.

“Oh, don’t mind me; I read lots of those kinds of books, but tell me, is that the case?” She rests her elbow on the table and waits for her response. She looked like a little child who asked if Santa can come in June as she waits for a positive response.

“You really read a lot of those books.” Joan chuckled and then thought about telling Stacy her predicament and what led her to working here.

She hasn’t discussed what happened with anyone aside from Camila and Henry, who has been by her side all through the mess.

Joan let out a sigh and then began talking. “My dad’s company went bankrupt. We were working on this model that failed mysteriously, and it cost us our customers’ trust, loss of partners, investors, money, and our company as a whole,” she said, and then began explaining further all that happened.

After some minutes of explaining, Stacy held her hand; she had sympathy written all over her face.

“I am so sorry that it happened to you; no one deserves to have their hard work of many years snatched by some greedy people.” She frowned. “Darken and his family were wrong to have made you guys go through that too; they would have helped if they truly wanted to and not tried to rip you guys off.”

Joan shrugged. “It happened already, and I want to do all that I can to take back my dad’s company from those greedy people. I know they have no use for it; they just want to punish us for reasons known to them,” Joan sighed.

“I hope you do, or is there a way I can help, maybe provide funds?”

Joan frowned at that. “Oh no, please don’t bother; I will figure things out soon. I just shared with you because I wanted to, not to ask for help.”

Stacy looked at her. “I see that you are an independent woman, and I appreciate that, but remember, women raise women.” She wriggled her brows, and Joan laughed.

“I appreciate your concern, but thank you.” Joan smiled.

“Okay then, just let me know if you need my help, and I’ll be there,” she sang the last part with a grin and handed Joan her card.

“Thank you, I will.” Joan collected it and put the card in her pocket.

Stacy checked her watch, then smiled. “This is my cue to leave; it’s almost three thirty, and I need to be there before four.” She stood on her feet as she helped Joan with packing the used cup and disposable plates.

She paid and bid Joan bye before leaving.

Joan walked back to the counter to cash the money and throw away the plates and wash the cups. When she went behind the counter, she saw Camila sitting on the floor, her legs raised up to her chin.

Frowning, she crouched to her level and took her hand. Before she could ask, Camila spoke.

“The hospital called now that my mom is going through another surgery in the evening, and I need to be there now,” she told her.

“Let’s go then,” Joan said, but Camila stopped her.

“No one is here to attend to the custo—”

“Then go; I will cover up for you.” Camila was alarmed.

“I can’t let you do all these by yourself; you’ve been covering my ass for so long now,” she pouts.

“I’m not complaining.” Joan pats her head. She held Camila’s hand. “Please don’t think too much about this. It will be alright soon.” She kissed her forehead. “I will come as soon as my shift ends,” she said and helped Camila to her feet, took her apron off, and handed her bag to her before walking Camila outside to hail a taxi for her. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Camila hugged Joan before entering the taxi. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, bye.” Joan waved and watched the taxi leave before heading back inside the café.