John Mulaney One Black Coffee Novels & Stories

Luna chuckled, "Like I mentioned earlier, I watched a few video tutorials out of curiosity. I wanted to learn how to make tasty coffee that's it, I never have time to take classes. Want to give it a try?" Blake smiled, "I'd be honored to be your taste tester, please give me one more cup my lady." Luna's face lit up, "Great! Let's go with an Americano this time." With her usual enthusiasm, Luna started preparing another cup of coffee. As she operated the coffee machine with precision, Blake watched in amazement. Meanwhile, Daniel, who had been occupied with a meeting, caught a glimpse of the CCTV footage showing Luna in the mini cafe. Intrigued, he decided to take a closer look.

Sliding his hands in his pockets, he tilted his head and asked, “How’s your ass, by the way? It was quite a spanking. Are your cheeks bruised? I can help you if you want, kitten.” Before I could maul that sly smile, someone knocked on the door, making me jump. I sighed in relief when he moved away, and Rahul entered the room with an enormous glass of coffee. I thanked him, begging him with my eyes not to leave me alone, but it went over his head as the devil over my shoulder ordered him to leave. “So if—” I stopped him, raising my palm. “I can’t have this conversation without coffee.” He stared at me as if I was from another planet when I drank four large gulps. “Gen Z and their addiction wi

without turning to him, Elaine spoke up looking at the cup, "It's just a black coffee and with no sugar obviously." Elaine knew Cannon wasn't going to take it now. He liked his coffee sweet as much as she liked it bitter. But proving her guess wrong, Cannon held out his hand, "It's no problem. Anything will do." Elaine stared at his face for a few moments before turning to his awaiting hand as she handed him the cup. Elaine waited for Cannon's reaction when she saw him taking a sip. Though bitter coffee wasn't his thing, still Cannon smiled, "It tastes good."

GIANNA FOUR YEARS LATER "Table 5c. Corner. Coffee, completely black and not even a drop of sugar should go in. Got it? Also, says whoever makes the coffee should be the one to serve him. Everyone else is busy right now so you're gonna have to take this one. Don't mess it up. This one looks important," Janelle ordered as she came in with her notepad. I nodded at her and set to work.

Dan said keeping his eyes fixed on the screen. “Very well. Ah, Alfred thank you so much.” Andrew said as Alfred entered the room with Andrew’s drink in his hand. Andrew took his drink and took a sip. “Ah.” He said spinning the drink in the glass with ice. “Bumbu Rum, a wonderful drink when you wait.”

The table was empty now, just me and Myles and the crumbs of a breakfast I hadn't touched. "You okay?" he asked. "No." "That's honest." "I'm trying something new." He smiled. Small. Sad. "Let's get you some real coffee." We found a quiet corner of the campus coffee shop, away from the windows, away from the crowd. Myles ordered two black coffees and sat across from me, his elbows on the table. "Talk," he said. "For real. No more secrets. Not between us." I wrapped my hands around the cup. The warmth seeped into my fingers.

Nate smirked. That was Nate for you, getting straight to the point. I went to answer, but someone came in, taking the seat in front of the counter before I could. “I will get him,” I said. “But when you get back, I want details,” Nate laughed. I shook my head, chuckling and headed over to the guy. “Good afternoon. What can I get you?” I smiled. “Just a large black coffee, please,” He said, looking up at me. I nodded, getting his order for him. It was only a black coffee that only took a minute to prepare, and then I got back to my own coffee and my conversation with Nate.

The kind that pressed against your ears until you started imagining sounds just to break it. Julian finally came inside around eight. His shoulders were slumped like gravity had doubled overnight. His eyes were red-rimmed, skin sallow, jaw tight in that way that meant he’d been clenching it for hours. He didn’t look at me at first just went straight to the coffee maker like muscle memory was the only thing still working. He poured two mugs without asking. Black. No sugar. No cream. He handed one to me like it was a transaction, not a question.

Disgust? Dear Mary, Jesus and Joseph. I may not fuck with you but please give me strength. I gulp the tightness in my throat, clutching the IPad in my hands tightly. “It’s cold. I don’t drink cold coffee, in-fact, I’m not sure anyone drinks cold coffee. Can’t you do your job properly, Ms. Monroe or is it too much to ask? Huh?” “Maybe next time you stand up and actually get your coffee yourself. I’m your assistant and definitely not a maid. I know my Job, Mr. Carlsen. I think you might’ve forgotten yours, though.” I bit back snarkily.

Smiling before heading out. For the first time all day. I felt proud. The café grew quiet. Night sank in. I hummed while wiping the counters. Almost forgetting the storm brewing inside me. Then.. “One black coffee. No sugar.” The voice froze me. I knew it before I even turned.