Coffee and Cafés - Book Two of the Café Latte Trilogy

Ristretto

"Thank you, baby," he said, surprising me with an English pet name. I blushed a little and he grinned. "You're adorable."

"Shut up," I muttered, and spied a coffee shop. "Do you mind if I nip in here? I haven't had a coffee since this morning and I'm dying."

Angelo's smile widened. "That's where we're going."

We crossed the road, me following him eagerly at the promise of coffee, and he opened the door for me. The smell of a ton of different roasts hit my nose as we entered and I inhaled deeply. "Wow, this place smells like heaven. Like... ten different kinds of heaven. How much coffee do they have here?"

Angelo laughed and greeted the barista. "Hi, we're here for the tasting. It's under Colosanto."

"Of course!" she replied cheerfully. Leaning over the counter, she called to her coworker. "Anthony! The tasting guests are here!"

An energetic man, presumably Anthony, whirled around on his heel and beamed at us. I wondered if they got paid enough for the cheery smiles. "Excellent! This way, please!"

Blindly, I followed Anthony and Angelo into a side room, where there was a smaller coffee machine set up and about a thousand little espresso cups, alongside little info cards. I gaped at Angelo, putting two and two together. "Tasting... coffee?!"

"Yes," Angelo replied, smiling happily. "Lots of coffee. I thought you'd like it."

I looked back at the sheer number of espresso cups, looked at the bags upon bags of coffee beans by the machine, and then looked back up at him. There were almost tears in my eyes as I said, as sincerely as I could, "This is the best present I have ever received."

"Damn, your birthday is going to be a problem," Angelo grinned, and we took our seats to begin the tasting.

"I hear you are quite the connoisseur," Anthony began.

"I don't know if you can call me a connoisseur, I will literally drink anything that has coffee in it," I admitted. "I'm more of a coffee slut, if you will."

Laughing, Anthony took us through how coffee was made, which was information I already knew but still was very happy to re-learn. I did get to learn the differences in locations and processes for each bean, all across the world. With every single piece of information, Anthony gave us an espresso or ristretto to try.

"Uh," Anthony said, as I threw the first one back. "Just so you know, this will be like at least twelve espressos - you might want to just sip a bit of each."

"Nope," I replied dreamily. "I'm good."

Anthony looked at Angelo apprehensively, and Angelo evenly replied, "Trust me, he's fine."

Taking Angelo at his word, but maintaining a slight concern for me, Anthony continued explaining the flavours in a bean from Colombia. I liked the darker roasts more than the lighter roasts, despite lighter roasts having more caffeine. I preferred the deep, strong flavours, whereas Angelo preferred the lighter herbal-tasting coffees. I had shot after shot, Anthony explaining that a ristretto was better suited for some coffees as it was a shorter, more intense shot of espresso.

"I love this," I declared, trying a shot of an espresso from Ethiopia. "This is my favourite so far."

Angelo smiled affectionately, watching me go through the coffee like I was trying to replace the water content of my cells with coffee. His eyes rarely left me, and I felt like he was trying to commit every part of me to memory. I wasn't used to such attention. It wasn't that guys didn't like spending time with me; I was funny and cute, and a bit of a social chameleon, so I often fit right into people's social lives. This felt different, though. Angelo was so laser-focused on me and my happiness. I had never been with a man that was made so happy just by supplying me with happiness.