The long queue of caffeine-seeking customers waited patiently. Denise knew most of them by name.
There was Sally, who always ordered, “flat white, extra hot.” She looked as if she’d not slept much over the weekend, if her bloodshot eyes were anything to go by.
Macchiato man—Marco— seemed agitated as he rubbed his forehead, Denise guessed a migraine as he’d confided in her about them.
And here he was, gorgeous Tony, “Long black please.” Denise sighed, how she wished he’d notice her. Perhaps today he just might.
“Tony!” She called as she wrote on his cup, “Meet me for Dinner”?
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