I promised Rocco I’d be at our future coffee shop for Hera’s first day, not only so that we could both be present but also to mark the occasion that it is. But I also told him that I’m no good with my hands, which earned me quite the look from him.
“My skills have always lain elsewhere,” I said to him.
“Of course, darling,” he replied, throwing in a big fat wink.
Hera has arrived and she has barely given me the time of day so I just stand around, doing nothing. There are things to arrange, of course, but I’d reserved today to welcome Hera—and to help where I could.
She’s pressing her fingertips against a wall, as though gauging its strength, but what do I know? For some reason, Rocco gets away with pretending he does know. She bends over and Rocco does the same. I find myself staring at their backsides. I already know Rocco’s bum is pert and tight—he spends enough time in the gym doing squats, then telling me all about them. Hera’s behind is but a tiny bulge in her jeans. She has impressive arms, but the rest of her is lean in that sinewy, coiled way, probably from being a builder all her life.
She murmurs something to Rocco that I can’t make out. When they straighten up, I ask, “Can I get you anything? Some water? Or coffee, perhaps?”
Hera points at the flask she brought in earlier. She does seem very self-sufficient. She doesn’t respond verbally, which irks me a little.
“I’ll have a coffee,” Rocco says. “If only to give the competition some extra business before we seduce all their customers away.”
“Have some of mine,” Hera says. “I have plenty in my flask.” Her voice is low but smooth.
“Thanks, but no thanks, Auntie.” Rocco screws up his face. “I’ll go for the real deal.”
Hera just shakes her head.
“One flat white coming right up.” I know Rocco’s preferred hot beverage.
“Rocco, why don’t you run along. Let me get a better feel for the place on my own without you two hovering about.” Her tone’s quite brusque, but Rocco doesn’t seem to take offense. Maybe that’s just Hera’s way. Or maybe he’s happy to get out of here already. He might have bulging biceps, but that doesn’t make him the ideal builder’s apprentice. They’re, quite literally, just for show.
“Chris is coming by later,” he says when we walk out. “He took the afternoon off.”
“That’s nice of him.”
“It’s not every day something like this happens in his partner’s life.”
I bump my shoulder into his. We’re about the same height, something I’ve always teased him about, but today’s not the day for that.
We walk in silence for a bit, until I say, “I get the feeling that Hera doesn’t like me very much, even though we’ve only just met.”
Rocco stays quiet.
“Or maybe it’s more that she doesn’t approve of me for some reason. Did you happen to tell your aunt what I used to do for a living?”
Rocco halts and turns to me. “I did. But it was a long time ago. Should I not have?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s all right. I just get the impression she can’t deal with it very well. Some people can’t help but be judgmental about it.”
“Ah, you know, she’s old school. Religious upbringing and all that. There are some things she just doesn’t understand.”
“So I gathered.” I start walking again, Rocco follows.
“You can’t take it personally, Kat. She’s had such a rough time. This is her first job since Sam died. She may be a bit rusty in the social skills department but her social skills are not why we hired her, anyway.”
“It’s fine. I don’t need to be friends with the the builder.” I sigh. “In fact, there’s not much point in me being there at all while Hera’s working. You can oversee things perfectly well on your own.”
“Do you want me to talk to her?” Rocco asks.
“No, that’s all right. Just let her get on with the job. The sooner it’s done—”
“The sooner we’re in business, K.Jo.” Rocco almost shrieks.
“I know.” As we approach the coffee shop we’ve been frequenting ever since we found the venue for our own, I stop in my tracks and look at it. It’s much smaller than ours, but the front window is fully collapsible, opening up the space and bringing the outside in.
This place is closer to the beach and the pavement in front is much wider. Rocco and I wanted a window like this one, but, according to Kristin, it would be money wasted because of our location. She advised us to focus on coziness instead of trying to merge with the world outside and, instead, make it a place people want to retreat into, for a brief break from the real world.
“I still can’t believe we’re going to have our very own coffee shop,” I muse.
“I know. It’s quite the change, isn’t it?”
We head inside and order our coffees. Rocco decides to give Hera all the time alone she needs and we take one of the tables by the open window.
“What’s most baffling is that it’s actually happening. That we’re building something from nothing, from a silly idea we once came up with while under the influence of your way-too-strong mimosas.” Rocco grins at me.
“As Kristin said, coffee is black gold and the gold rush is long from being over.” I stare into my cup, remembering a long talk I had with Kristin about the almost inexplicable draw of a cup of coffee. How it can be so disappointing sometimes, when not well-made, and so intoxicatingly delicious when it is.
“You don’t miss the old job too much?” Rocco inquires.
“I wouldn’t say I miss it per se but it is strange not to be doing it anymore.” I glance at him. “If it were up to Alana, I’d still be seeing at least one client a week.”
“Good to know you’re still sought after.” Rocco sips from his flat white. “This is bloody good coffee.” He looks behind him at the counter. “We need to figure out their blend so we can copy it.”
I smile at him and, while we savor our coffee in silence, I think about my old job. I do miss it sometimes. But my decision has been made, and this is my new life now.
“Before I forget,” Rocco says. “I promised Steve I’d teach two spin classes the day after tomorrow. Can you be there for Hera?”
“You’re the one who can’t let go of your old profession,” I joke.
“I miss the endorphins.” He sits up straight and pats his belly. “And my six-pack is starting to disappear.” He locks his gaze on me. “There’s not going to be a problem between you and Hera, is there?”
I shake my head. After all, I’m used to people judging me by what I do—or did—for a living. “I’m sure she won’t need me much anyway.”