Elevator Pitch (Hapless In Love #1)

9. Coffee Envy

9

coffee envy

Greyson

Manhattan, NY | September 26, 2023

Like clockwork, my mom calls right as I’m heading out the door. She insists on talking to me during my morning commute. It’s a highlight of my day. She's so excited about the upcoming holiday because Henry and I will be visiting. Chuseok is Korean Thanksgiving, and we celebrate it in September or October, which is based on the lunar calendar. I’m looking forward to seeing my parents, though Dad and I aren't as close. I don’t visit home as often now that things have really picked up at SoulBlend and my parents remind me every chance they get. I stop to grab a coffee before work. My favorite coffee shop, Artie’s , is around the corner from the office, so I park there and walk over. I’m prepared to wait because the morning rush is no joke. There’s no telling how long this may take, but it’s all good. I’ve got time and I’m in no hurry.

When I step inside, it isn’t any busier than normal. Everyone is coming and going for the most part. I usually don’t bother looking around, but while I’m standing in line, I scan the shop—peeking to see what new baked goods they’ve got on display as I wait. I search over my shoulder at the cafe side, which is pretty empty aside from a few patrons.

I do a double take when I notice a very familiar head of dark curly hair seated with a laptop, presumably working. As I pay closer attention, I recognize the gold rings catching the light as she scrolls with her mouse. I don’t get a good look at her face because her back is to me, but she’s facing the window, and I hope that I can catch her reflection. Right when I think I’ll get a good shot, she’s leaning over on the opposite side to retrieve something from her bag beside her. I follow the movement, in the slouchy cropped sweater and jeans that hug her generous curves. That’s when I observe her leg bouncing nervously under the table. She pulls AirPods from her bag and puts them in. Now facing forward, I see her reflection for a brief moment, and it’s her .

What’s she doing here?

I order my usual and a box of donut holes for us to share, since I’ve suddenly decided that having donuts and coffee with my neighbor is more important than getting to work on time. I’ve had the pleasure of having a few run-ins with her since we met. I check my calendar after, and I see that I don’t have any meetings until after eleven. I didn’t plan on being late today, but I feel like I should at least say something to her.

I don’t even know if she’s going to want to eat with me or even wants company. She seems to be working. I probably shouldn’t.

I grab my order and swallow the urge to turn around and bolt as I trek toward her table. She doesn’t notice me at first, as she is occupied with her work and is probably listening to something. When she glances up and locks eyes with me, her look of surprise shifts into a shy smile. We greet each other at the same time and nervously chuckle.

“I was just grabbing some coffee on my way into the office when I saw you. I wanted to say good morning and see if you had eaten already. I got some extra donut holes.” I lower the container onto her table .

“Good morning, Greyson. That was nice of you. I’d love some.”

She takes a donut and bites into it. The soft moan that escapes her tells me I made a good choice. She freezes, covering her mouth shyly, and I stifle a laugh.

“May I?” I ask, motioning to the seat beside her.

“Of course, sorry,” she says while removing her AirPods.

“Don’t be sorry. I said I had somewhere to be. What brings you here?”

“Oh, I’m working. I usually work from home, but I’m going to work in public once a week since my therapist is encouraging me to do ‘immersion therapy.’”

“I can’t say I’ve heard of that. I’d love to know more. If you don’t mind telling me about it.”

She shakes her head, waiting until she’s finished chewing to answer.

“I don’t mind. I’m inserting myself in situations that make me anxious and uncomfortable. As much as I’ve grown accustomed to working from home and away from people, I know it’s not healthy to shut the world out. I do leave the house for dates and outings and I prefer working from home over the office. My therapist would like me to get acquainted with being around people who aren’t my friends, family, and cat.”

She looks down and titters, “Sorry, you didn’t ask for all that.”

I wrinkle my brow in confusion. I don’t ever want her to feel uncomfortable around me. I run my thumb over her knuckles to comfort her. The touch feels like I grazed a hot coal. She looks up and her face softens.

I wonder if she feels this too.

“That makes sense. If it makes you feel any better, this is my favorite coffee shop and the sweets are fantastic.”

She offers me a soft smile. “That does make me feel better. I’m going to do this for the first half of my day and head home for the rest. ”

“Sounds like a plan. You mind if I join you for a bit?”

“Not at all,” she says, taking a sip of her tea.

I quickly text my assistant to inform her I’ll be a little late and silence my phone. We talk about the morning traffic and how she’s been since I last saw her. I decide not to ask about any dates she may have gone on or the guy I saw her with last week. That is none of my business.

When I share that I finished the books she recommended, she seems surprised. Then she quizzes me a bit to prove that I read it, and I pass with flying colors. She couldn’t stop giggling through her questions, and her shyness is so cute. I ask for another recommendation, and she gives me one, warning me it’s a ‘spicy’ one. Then she explains that means it’s nasty.

“I know you’re a nasty girl, but your secret is safe with me,” I tease.

She rolls her eyes in response and chuckles to herself.

“I’m not deterred by anything ‘nasty,’ if anything, I’m more intrigued.”

I lock eyes with her, and she quickly averts her gaze back to her screen, failing to hide her shy smile.

She dives back into her work and I respond to emails, occasionally stopping to indulge in my coffee as I try not to disturb her much. I don’t mind the silence between us, it feels familiar. I watch her hands type loudly as I zero in on the tattoo on her right thumb. Happier than ever. It’s as if my silence is bothersome when she stops abruptly as her hands hover over the keyboard. I see her glancing over at me in my peripheral when she quips, “were you ever taught that it’s not polite to stare?”

I return her gaze. “I was just observing something. ”

“What were you observing?”

“Your tattoo.”

Her eyes travel to it instantly.

“Oh.” She lets out a breathy laugh and continues, “I feel like you’re always eyeing this one. The others don’t get much love.”

“I noticed. I’ll give them all my attention. Trust me.”

She raises a brow. “That’s a weird promise.”

She directs her attention back to her screen.

“Is it? Happier Than Ever . What does that mean to you?”

She smiles softly. “Well, I am happier than ever, but it’s actually a Billie Eilish song. Have you ever heard it?”

“I don’t think so, but I’ll check it out.”

I sip my coffee, growing comfortable with the busy sounds of the cafe and her loud typing. I notice how she keeps trying to pretend I’m not here, but whenever I’m silent for too long, it makes her uncomfortable, and she makes conversation with me. This is the most I’ve heard her speak in weeks, and I’m enjoying it.

I’m not quite ready for this moment to end.

Who knows when I’ll get another?

As if she could hear my thoughts, she reminds, “I thought you had somewhere to be.”

When she reaches in the box for another donut hole, I purposely brush my hand over hers when I grab one. I keep my eyes locked on hers when I pop the donut in my mouth and chew slowly. Her gaze roams and stills on my lips, following my throat as I swallow.

So, she’s bashful yet watches me eat as if she imagines something else on my tongue.

“It can wait,” I respond with a shrug.

“Y-Your job can wait? For what exactly? You’re just sitting here watching me.”

“I’ll let you think that’s what I’m doing.” I sip my coffee. “Yes, they can wait for me to get there. The day will go on.”

She wears a questionable expression and goes right back to typing. I don’t miss the smile she’s trying to hide as she keeps busy.

“Am I distracting you, Selah?”

She shakes her head as she scrolls her mouse.

“The other tattoos on your fingers, what do they mean? I noticed the one with your name, but the other one?”

She lifts her right ring finger to give me a closer look. “This is one of my newer tattoos. Ctrl , my favorite SZA album. It’s been a soundtrack for navigating my twenties as a Black woman.”

I listen intently as she explains. I love the way she lights up while talking about her tattoos. I’ll ask until I’ve learned the story behind each one of them.

She brings her left index closer, which reads Selah .

“It’s my name, but it’s also a song by Emeli Sandé that I love. If you’ve caught on by now, all my tattoos are inspired by music.”

“Noted.” I nod with a smile that she returns before focusing on her tasks.

Whenever I’ve shown interest in something that’s important to Selah, she’s always so shocked. It’s as if she has no idea how fascinating she really is. Something tells me there’s a lot to learn from the songs behind these tales scribed on her skin. I pull out my phone to make a quick note for myself.

Happier Than Ever.

Ctrl.

Selah.

Listen to these immediately.

I look at the time and can't help but notice the messages from Hazel. She hasn’t been blowing me up, but she’s concerned because it’s not like me to show up late. I respond, assuring her that I am fine and will be in shortly. I decide that I’ve avoided work long enough and should leave Selah to hers.

I enjoy the view of her scrunched brows as she concentrates, loudly typing and chewing on her lip while she reads along. My coffee is envious as I drink her in. I savor this moment and commit her to memory in case there isn’t another opportunity to admire her this closely again. I reluctantly clear my throat to gain her attention, to which she peers up with those big brown eyes and in this moment, I don’t want to leave.

“I should probably get going.”

“Yeah. Probably. It’s good to be employed,” she says sarcastically. I chuckle and rise from my seat, grabbing my coffee cup. We do that thing again where we’re both speaking at the same time. I’m saying goodbye, and I think she’s talking about therapy.

I need to shut up and listen.

“I’m sorry,” we say in unison before laughing awkwardly. I do a zip motion over my lips to give her the floor and she laughs silently.

“I was saying that I want my therapist to know I’m making an effort. I’ve been coming here every Tuesday morning. So, I might see you again.”

“You will. Next week,” I respond eagerly.

She nods. “Have a good day, Greyson. I hope you don’t get in too much trouble for being late.”

“I’ll be fine. I hope you have an even better day. See you around,” I say with a smile.

I shift on my heels, stopping at the counter to order a refill before I head out the door. When I look back on my way out, she waves.

My day is more than good. It may be too early to say that, but I don’t care.

I pull up my notes for the music she mentioned. I open the Kiwi Music App and add the songs to a new playlist before heading into the office.

Next Tuesday.