The caffeine fix...

Just a little more character development. Not too much steam yet. But keep reading!

I tried to find a coffee shop picture for inspiration but the only coffee shops I had on my computer were from Amsterdam...



And that's not exactly what I meant.

It's something closer to this.



Minus the fancy car. Cass drives a Mazda, remember?

***

Cass shivered as she drove into town, the cool morning air whipping through the open window, but it smelled so fresh. You don’t get that crisp, clean smell in downtown Toronto. There are other Toronto smells she loved – a venti non-fat vanilla latte with light foam from Starbuck’s in particular, at this time of day – but this smell, it was newly hers and she wanted to enjoy it. As she pulled into town, the shopkeepers were just opening their doors, propping up old-fashioned striped awnings, people calling out greetings across the street. It really was quaint, she thought, exactly what she was looking for. And she could smell coffee. Strong, rich coffee. European blend, if she knew her caffeine at all. As she pulled into a parking space on the main drag, she saw it: The Sea Bean. And a carefully-lettered sign said it was Open.

She grabbed her zebra-skin Miu Miu handbag, a congratulatory treat to herself when she got promoted to senior editor that cost almost as much as a mortgage payment, and followed the heady, spicy aroma. The Sea Bean was cute; it would never survive in Toronto, next to the chain coffee places, but it would do the trick here. Cass quickly scanned the menu, looking for the latte selection. She breathed in sharply when she realized, with disdain, that the menu did not have lattes. Or frappucinos. Or mochaccinos. You had your choice of coffee blend but that’s where it stopped.

“What can I get you, honey?” the middle-aged brunette behind the counter asked.

“Um, do you have blended coffee at all?”

“We have blends, sure!”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Do you do lattes?”

“Oh, we don’t do anything that fancy here, I’m afraid.”

“It isn’t fancy. It’s basically steamed coffee and milk.”

“Well, nonetheless, we don’t make them here.”

“Does anyone in town make them?”

“The Sea Bean is O’Connell Creek’s only café.”

“It is?”

“And proud of it. So, what can I get you?”

“Strong coffee then, with double milk.”

“No sugar?”

“Not for these thighs.”

“Oh stop it! You’re a stick!”

“Well, I’d like to stay that way.”

“So no cinnamon rolls for you, then?”

“No, ma’am,” Cass said, a little too quickly.

If she thought about the heavenly smell of cinnamon and dough, she’d certainly add one to her bill. She’d put on ten pounds since the day of her wedding, since Peter’s voicemail. He’d said, “Listen, Cass, this has been really fun and I’ve grown a lot because of you. But it was a mistake to propose and I can’t do this. I’m in love with someone else. I hope you’ll forgive me someday but for now, I have to go.” Click. And something inside her snapped. She ate everything she wanted. She ate things she hadn’t eaten in years. She ate French fries by dozens. But she’d also promised herself that when she got to O’Connell Creek, she’d go back to her old routine of a sensible diet and daily exercise. She’d been slightly mortified last night when she realized that Christian had seen her chunkier-than-usual arms and the slight spare tire spilling over her jeans. It didn’t seem to faze him, she thought to herself smugly, as she remembered the look on Christian’s face when she left the room, unmentionables stuffed in her pockets. He knew she wasn’t wearing underwear and she knew he was watching. It was nice to remember that men found her attractive. And outside of the parameters of the university flings and office romances before she’d met Peter.

She paid for her coffee – only two dollars and ten cents, as opposed to her six dollar latte – and walked out to the street. She could put the money she’d save into slush fund for the house, she thought, as she crossed the road to the realtor’s office. Debbie promised to meet her there with her boxes early in the morning so she’d be home to meet the furniture delivery by noon. If all went well, Christian’s peep-show was a one-night-only affair.