He smiles and glances at his own coffee before returning his attention to Leanne.
PAUL: I like my coffee black.
LEANNE: Nothing wrong with that, and I mean no offense. Just saying, trying a new flavor every now and then helps to cleanse the palate.
PAUL: And let me guess, you did?
She nods smugly.
LEANNE: And I liked them all. Except mocha. Little did I know it would taste like coffee. Ick.
PAUL: There's a lot to say about a good grind, I assure you.
She makes a face and playfully shrugs the comment off.
The BARISTA herself shows up with her drink.
BARISTA: Mocha frappuchino, half caff, no whip.
LEANNE: That's me.
Leanne takes the drink from the Barista who calls back over her shoulder as she walks back behind the counter.
BARISTA: Thanks, Leanne. Tell Annette I said hi.
Leanne gives her an insincere smile.
LEANNE: Will do.
PAUL: So that doesn't taste like coffee?
She takes off the lid and sprinkles cinnamon on the surface.
LEANNE: Oh trust me, I can't stand this stuff, but I'm addicted at this point. (beat) And I hate that she knows my name. But I love that she never knows what I'm going to order.
She takes a sip as if she is taste-testing it.
PAUL: And who's Annette?
Leanne cast him a look as if to make him aware of his forwardness.
Paul laughs to himself.
PAUL: That was quite forward, wasn't it?
She smiles.
LEANNE: Annette is my sister.
PAUL: Also a regular?
LEANNE: She's here now. She's always here.
He looks perplexed.
Leanne motions with her head to point his attention behind her.
Paul looks and sitting on a stool, leaning against a microphone on a modest stage is a poster, a head-n-shoulders shot of a classically beautiful woman with a warm, charming smile.
His eyes widen, impressed.
PAUL: That's your sister?
She nods unenthusiastically.
LEANNE: I discovered her, you know. She'd sing in our room at night and I'd say, (little girl voice) "Your voice is so pretty. You should be a singer".
PAUL: And she took your advice?
LEANNE: Well, not just like that. She never sang in front of anyone but me, until our parents' funeral.
PAUL: Both of them?
LEANNE: At once, yeah. Brutal right? (beat) Anyway, our aunt told us we didn't have to say anything, you know, at the front of the church, but I kind of wanted to.
Speaking passionately with a faraway look in her eyes, she gets up from the chair and walks around behind it.
LEANNE (CONT'D): And let me just say, for ten, my little speech was...insightful and deep. Touching, really. People were getting misty-eyed in this really beautiful way where I could tell I was really causing them to think about life and...profound things.
YOU ARE READING
Coffee: a Hitman Story (Screenplay)
Mystery / ThrillerWhile scouting his latest mark in a small town coffee shop, a hitman engages in four seemingly random conversations as he contemplates a life-or-death decision. Paul is a man of many secrets; an interrogative hitman nearing the end of his career. A...
