Ineffable Cafe Novels & Stories

Her gaze was fixed on a cafe on the corner. The cafe looked cozy, with a green canopy and the words “Dreamer Tavern” in bold brown letters on a white background hanging from the front end, as if calling out to her. It's an old-fashioned coffee shop, instead of being like a coffee shop, it's more like an old building that was misplaced in the middle of so tall shophouses.

"What do you say, babe?" He kissed my cheek and nodded. "Sure, Sophie. Where are we going?" I smiled over at him. He had been overly pleasant today, the way he always was after a fight. "I was thinking we could go to that one little coffee shop, what's it called?" Wyette asked. "Shallow Street Café? That's a good place." I said. "Are you excited?" "I feel like I'm going to puke." Simon chuckled. "Well that's romantic."

F*ck! He must have done it on purpose, making me wait like an idiot here. I contacted Noah last night and asked to meet at the Old Orchid cafe. There are several important things I need to ask and discuss with him. This cafe is an elite cafe where the price of just a glass of lemon tea can be the same as a steak in a middle class restaurant. I don't want to be taken lightly by Noah if I just invite him to an ordinary cafe. Moreover, he is my former staff.

Ole Cafe Evelina stood in front of the coffee shop an hour before it opened. She let out a deep breath she had not realized she was holding in and, once she was done, she finally relaxed. Two weeks ago, she had caught her husband cheating on her with his mistress, a beautiful banker who was far slimmer than Evelina ever was. Having nowhere else to go, her father had called her and asked her to come back and run the family cafe business... the very same cafe her parents had started when she was only a little girl. It was only a week ago that she had officially taken over the day-to-day running of the business and now she was officially a business owner... though she was still taking time to l

“So, are you ready to go?” “Mmm.” “Come on Grant, I know you’re hungry, maybe today we can order those tea cakes.” “What is it with you and that tiny cafe anyway?” “Best coffee in town and great service. Although, she hasn’t been there the last couple of days and no one will answer me when I ask.”

It wasn’t easy running a restaurant that way as it requires lots of partnerships and meetings with each spice company so they can be supplied at the desired time. “Ma’am, we’re here at the ‘country’s cafe,’” the driver informed, breaking her from her thoughts. She quickly barred her head and stared at the outside of the cafe. This cafe was one of the best in the city. Not only in the city but the country. That was why it was called the ‘country’s cafe.’ Different people from around the country transport to this place just to have the taste of their signature coffee. It was a mixture of flavors together which many other cafes had tried to imitate but never got it. She was here to meet up with

Igneel said under his breath. "What do you want us to do, boss?" Nicola said and Igneel smirked. "Buy that Cafe." Igneel ordered his man. ********* "What? What are you saying?" Leah asked the old man sitting in front of her in the cafe. He put the cup of coffee he was holding down on the table in front of him before looking up at Leah with a sorrowful look. "I can't help it." The old man said and Leah shook her head. She was shocked. One after another, everything is messing up. She's been running this cafe for five years now. She has a lot of customers on this street.

Isabella Roosevelt The café was a pastel paradise, its walls painted in soft blush pink with accents of cream and mint green. Fairy lights dangled from the ceiling, casting a warm glow, while potted plants and hanging ivy framed the windows, creating an inviting charm. The tables were small and round, each adorned with a tiny vase holding a single fresh daisy. Behind the counter, the barista worked with precision, her movements almost hypnotic as she crafted beautiful lattes with intricate foam art.

Thirty minutes later We pulled up in front of Caffé Noire—a monument of caffeine and capitalism nestled in the upper district of Manhattan. The kind of place where: The coffee comes with edible gold flakes, Everyone pretends to write novels on MacBooks, And if your espresso isn’t hand-poured by a Colombian barista named Mateo, it’s considered offensive. Outside, Illana stood there—gawking. Literal jaw-drop. Neon hair clashing wildly with the rose-gold accents of the coffee shop window.

Our sweet waitress greets us. " Hi, Ireen. Please open this bottle, serve it to booth 21, and make me Camellia tea. " The waitress nods. Camellia tea is our specialty, and the cafe is called Camellia Cafe. The flower Nikolas gave me inspired it not so long ago, and I returned to the booth, sitting before Xavier Alarie. We are quiet. My gaze is on my hands, and I cannot look him in the eye. He is so intimidating.