Espresso X Madeleine Novels & Stories

She advised, "Don't get so worked up, Levian. It's bad for your health. I know you care about me, but you shouldn't get too emotional." "It's nothing, but those incompetent fools…forget it." He sat down next to her. He arched his chin upward and gestured toward a tray of exquisite pastries. "Look at what I've brought you!" Melody's eyes brightened when she saw the packaging. She exclaimed, "The lavender madeleines from Artisanal Boulangerie?" The Artisanal Boulangerie was a well-known Bayridge bakery that only produced a small number of pastries each day. Customers had to pre-order their pastries and pick them up first thing in the morning.

"You’ll take orders here, handle payments, and make sure customers get their drinks and pastries quickly." Sophia observed the space carefully. The counter was lined with an espresso machine, cash registers, and neatly organized displays of muffins, croissants, and other baked goods. The smell of fresh coffee filled the air, making her stomach rumble slightly. Melissa led her toward the back, where she pushed open another door.

A pleasant breeze blows past her and sways her blond hair. There is enough food for all twelve people on the table. On porcelain plates, Eleonor saw breads like croissants, bruschetta, and other types that she couldn't tell apart. Coffee brewed in the moka (Italian coffee maker) and juices were also available. There were also piles of fruit.

Linda turned away immediately when Mae looked up and caught her staring, grabbing a tray out of the fridge Linda placed it in front of Mae. "First batch,you have,coco bread with chocolate filling, there cake no vanilla extract though,there is normal bread,the one you like……uh here is some cookies,I actually baked them because of Carl but you can have them,and uhh there is croissant,I just learned how to,you would like it….if you try em all and you like it I'd bring out the other batch,that one is even way cooler than this!" Linda said, clapping her hands together as she watched Mae eat.

Tiffany laughed, “Uhmm, do you have tequila, we could start from there.” Roman frowned, “Tequila? You're not serious. You're not having tequila.” “Oh come on, that's what I ordered.” She said, still smiling. “Ok, but ma'am we don't have tequila, I can get you something else.” “Fine, get me anything which includes meatballs.” She nodded, with arched brows. “Alright ma'am, I'll be back in a jiffy.” Tiffany laughed, with that Roman left for the kitchen.

She can finally have her cravings here. They both walked to the dining table and took their respective seats before Madeline took the package and brought out the takeaways she guessed belonged to Elias. Her eyes shone in delight when she saw the loaf of bread and soup she ordered. Cake bread and fish soup. The delicious scent coming from the fish soup made her want to eat it all in one go. She opened the fish soup and tore the package of the cake bread before digging in. “You know that's a really weird combination right?”

The kitchen is obviously her favorite, though, with all the shiny appliances hidden behind wooden cabinets. “Look at this.” She flips the camera, and I can make out some sort of shiny machine before she turns the camera back around. Her eyes are wide, and I grin while I blot my lipstick. “This is a one-touch espresso maker. You just press a button, and it grinds the beans and makes a perfect cappuccino. I think you should marry Michaeland live in this penthouse. I just need a small bedroom. You won’t even notice me.” I laugh awkwardly, and Mal’s gaze sharpens. “What’s that look?”

I closed the file on the tablet with a decisive snap. “Set the alarm, Chloe. And prepare three trays of my signature, perfectly salted caramel macarons. The kind that tastes exactly like existential despair and expensive butter. I'm going to meet my new best friend.”

She inspected the tray, her nose wrinkling. "Is this it?" she asked, unimpressed. "It is," I said, wiping flour from my forehead. "Freshly baked. Served with espresso and a side of wild berry compote." "Hmph." She picked up the silver tray. "Monsieur is in the dining room. Wait here." She disappeared. I stood by the stainless steel island, gripping the edge until my knuckles turned white. I counted the seconds. One minute. Two minutes. Five minutes.

It was only the second time I had been to Gregory's café, but from what I had already observed in that time, he was always very attentive to everyone's orders and made a point of preparing the drink with care and attention to detail. Today, I ordered an espresso with milk and brown sugar. Gregory brought me exactly what I asked for, and even added a special touch: a little cinnamon powder on the surface of the drink. The aroma combined with the flavor was divine, I felt like I was drinking a gourmet and at the same time homemade coffee.