Laughing Man Coffee Reviews 소설 & 이야기

"Looks like you have a personal vendetta, Rich?" The man laughed. "Why spend my soul holding a grudge against him? I'll be the one who suffers the loss." He took his share of the coffee cup. Sipping slowly, he felt the delicious flavor that the coffee delivered on the tip of his tongue. Although it was not as good as the one made at his regular cafe, but at least he could still enjoy coffee before struggling with the amount of work that awaited him. "I just want to stare at the face of a haughty woman who is inferior in every way."

“And I'm happy you tagged along. There's no better way to enjoy coffee than to drink with someone.” “Oh,” I mumbled, watching the transparent door of the café opened and a middle-aged man stepped outside, he was clad in a blue apron and he had a waste bag in his hand. “Good!” I chuckled, wondering what a man like him would possibly know about coffee. No offence, but all the great coffeehouses that I know in my pack were run by young men and women. “Shall we check it out!” Prescott beamed, taking out a hand from his pocket and gripping my hand, intertwining our hands before flashing me a toothy smile.

Near the restroom of the café came a squad of boys and a girl on a white table, their gazes were on a single laptop, a boy who was on the side near the girl spilled his coffee on his shirt and excused herself to the bathroom while the other three didn't seem to care and continued watching and laughing on whatever there was on the laptop. There was another man on the stool near the counter, dressed in a long coat and black suit, he was wearing a mask that covered his nose and mouth, and even before his coffee was served, he doesn't look up or doesn't care to say the least. "Hey, what are you looking at?" The guy catches her gaze with a flick of his finger. "Nothing in particular." He answered

He grunted something unintelligible, wrestling with the buttons like he was interrogating a suspect. After a moment, there was a loud, angry hiss from the machine, and a splatter of coffee hit the counter. Amara bit her lip hard to keep from laughing. He’s terrifying to the world, she thought, but a coffee machine might be his downfall. Rafael glanced sideways at her, catching the laughter sparking in her eyes. Instead of snapping, he shook his head and reached for a towel. “You think this is funny?” he said, voice dangerously low — but there was the barest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

"The coffee here is absolute shit. I should have asked you to meet me somewhere nicer." I gave him a small smile. "It's okay, I can write this off as a business expense," I said, holding up the cup and wrinkling my nose. "And it's still better than what they serve at the office." This made him laugh. And though it wasn't strictly true–the office actually had a lovely selection of single-serve coffee pods, an espresso machine, and a drip-coffee maker–office jokes were the great equalizer.

I’m wiping the counter when the bell chimes and that accented voice that makes me shiver comes through. What the fuck is he doing here? “Large black coffee, extra hot.” Nikolai Serrano is leaning against my counter in a dove-gray cashmere coat with collar popped. He looks like he walked off a Paris runway and that just made me more pissed. “We’re out of coffee.” He laughs loudly, obviously amused. “You can't be out of coffee. This is a fucking coffee shop.” I slam the bell harder than necessary. “Fine. Name for the order?”

Elena glanced at me, “Yeah, you messed up my order. I asked for hot coffee. This tastes lukewarm. You call this service?” The mockery in his voice stung, but I held my composure, “I apologize if it wasn’t up to temperature. I’ll be happy to replace it with a fresh one.” I signalled to Elena to brew another cup – anything to satisfy this nuisance of a man – but apparently, he was not done. He tapped on his phone, placing it in a way I could see the recording icon. “Funny, isn’t it? The internet’s favorite liar is playing coffee shop manager now. Guess anyone can get a job these days.”

Logan: "Not to brag, but I invented this special coffee recipe myself, and it's perfect." "Imagine if you were bragging!" -I heard him laugh, and I brought the cup close to try it. Indeed, he wasn't lying! It's delicious! Creamy, the perfect balance of sweet, and a flavor that, while delicious, I can't identify but I adore. It wasn't too hot, so I took a good sip after. He was still waiting for my verdict. Logan: "Well? Did you like it?" "You'll be forgiven if you give me the recipe."

No wonder he came to King's Cafe to get coffee. Adam glared playfully at me until I stopped laughing, but I couldn't wipe out the smile from my lips. “This is why I don't like talking to people about my problems. See how you are laughing at me.” He grumbled lightly. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to make fun of you. It was just too hilarious. Honestly, I haven't had this much fun in a very long time.” I confessed before turning serious eyes at him. “Making good coffee happens to be my fort so why don't we strike a deal? You teach me how to cook and I teach you how to make a perfect coffee. How about that?”

I could tell he wasn’t the kind of man who was easily impressed, but that only made me want to try harder. “Tell me,” I said after a moment, “do you always drink coffee alone at this time of night?” He shrugged. “Sometimes. Sometimes I like to be by myself.” “Uh-huh. Well, lucky for you, I’m really good company,” I said, making a face. “Even when I’m in a bad mood. I can still make it fun.” He finally laughed—a short, rich sound that made me feel like I’d just won something. “Yeah, I’ll admit, you’re a bit more entertaining than most people I know,” he said, his voice still laid-back, like he was toying with me.