The soft pitter-patter of rain on Annalisa's umbrella accompanied her, along with the bickering of tourists as she evaded them on the narrow sidewalks. Although she hated the crowds and the congested traffic, she loved Seattle, especially the chilling rain and the bitter wind. After walking about fifteen minutes from La Cafe Cosa Nostra, she came to her destination: Elm Street Coffee.
The sign above the door was as red as the umbrella that she carried and was created with mismatching letters as if they were pulled from different signs around the city. The windows were glass, and she could see the shop filled with people as they grappled for cups that were placed at the end of the bar. With a sigh, she folded her umbrella and shook off the rain as she stepped inside.
The store itself was simple, with dark accents of wood that covered the ceiling and floor. Paintings and artworks covered the walls, and they hung between rod iron light fixtures that matched the sign out front. Impressed by their choice of style, she peeked over the shoulders of the many customers as she joined the line to inspect the bar. She could only see the tops of the heads of the three baristas that were working, but she noted the use of the manual espresso machine.
As she examined the shop, her eyes fell upon the crowd around her. It was a diverse mixture of people, with a group of older women huddled around a table in the corner, a mother with two screaming children hanging off her arms, and even a young couple awkwardly giggling at the end of the bar.
When it was her turn to order, she let her eyes fall to the menu that was on the counter in front of the register. She was immediately drawn to the traditional drinks, americano, espresso, latte, cappuccino, macchiato, cortado, and so on. But she noticed that the menu was filled with more than just what she anticipated. There was a second section titled 'specialties' that filled more than half of the page. Based on what she had briefly skimmed, they were radically different than anything she had ever seen. There was the Egg Coffee, The Tonic, Reindeer Cheese Espresso, Lemon Twist, Tim Tam, and many others that made her stomach churn.
"Can I help you decide anything?" She heard a voice ask.
Annalisa lifted her head to find a face that was jarringly familiar. It was the man with the butterfly in his cup.
Her mouth opened and closed with no sound. The man, Stephen if she remembered correctly, laughed and smiled at her. "You work at Cosa Nostra, right?"
She nodded. "Y-yeah, that's me."
"What are you doing here? I wouldn't expect you to be going to a rival store."
Annalisa forced herself to laugh as she felt her chest tighten with nervousness. "I enjoy checking out new stores, its hobby of mine I guess."
Stephen nodded his head enthusiastically. "Yes! That's a big reason why I moved here, because of all of the coffee."
"My family is all here because of the coffee too, it's all everyone seems to talk about." She replied.
"Seems so, since you work at one of the best stores in the area."
"You think?" Annalisa inquired, leaning over the counter. She let her eyes flick over to the vast array of ingredients that they had strewn over the counters; she was on a mission after all.
"Oh yeah! Cosa Nostra is always very precise with everything that you do, very traditional, especially with your in-house coffee."
Annalisa couldn't help but smirk with pride.
"But if I'm being honest," Stephen continued, "It's almost a little too traditional. There's nothing incredibly unique to the store or its menu."
She felt herself scoff. "And you think that Elm Street has more to offer?"
"Well, yes. Just look at what we have." He pointed to the menu between her hands. "You can't find any of these drinks on this half of the city, maybe even in the whole city itself."
"Who comes up with these ideas?"
Stephen shrugged. "I have no idea. Probably our owner, Jared Williams ." He motioned his head over to the other barista that was working the espresso machine, a wide-brimmed hat covering his eyes. "I can introduce you to him if you'd like."
"No, no." Annalisa stammered. "I'm good, thank you. Can I just get an espresso macchiato?"
Stephen nodded his head and replied, "$2.65."
She dug around in her pockets for the texture of the soft paper but found nothing but dust and crumbs. "Cazzo!" Annalisa cursed under her breath.
"Everything alright?" Stephen asked.
"Yes, I'm fine." She muttered as she emptied her pockets.
"Here." She saw him take a few dollar bills out of the jar in front of him, thumbing through them until he had three ones. He clicked the register a few times and set them inside.
Annalisa was stuck in a dumbfounded silence again, her mouth opening and closing as she searched for a reply.
"On the house." He spoke for her, his blue-gray eyes twinkling in amusement from her reaction. "You should come by again so you can pay me back."
Again, Annalisa struggled in vain to find a response.
"Miss, you're holding up the line." A voice said behind her, and she was nudged aside from the register.
Stephen gave her one last smirk before his attention was brought] to the next customer in line.
Annalisa stood in silence as she waited for her drink, her hands plunged into her pockets as she continued to absentmindedly follow the hands of one of the baristas. When her drink came out, she grabbed it and spun on her heel to leave. She looked up at the cup and saw her name hastily written out, along with a note. It read 'You owe me a drink - Stephen' and a phone number that followed. Annalisa turned to catch Stephen's eye as the door closed behind her, but was only met with a sea of heads that blocked her view.
As she began the long walk back to Cosa Nostra, she felt her lips curl upward into a smile as she realized that Stephen never even asked for her name, and yet it was scribbled on her cup.
The shop seemed empty and barren compared to Elm Street and its masses of people. Her father sat behind the register on a stool, his arms folded across his chest and resting on his belly that jutted out from over his pants. He eyed her as she approached the counter. "How did it go?" He grumbled in Italian.
"As well as it could have." She replied, setting her cup on the surface before her.
"Busy?"
"Yes. There was a crowd out of the door, and they were all waiting to try all of these specialty drinks that they have, it was outrageous."
"The drinks or the people?"
Annalisa scoffed. "Both. There were drinks on there that made me sick just thinking about them. I have no clue why anyone would want to go there."
Her father stroked his mustache and sighed. "Did you find out who the owner was?"
"Yes," She replied. "It's this man, Jared Williams."
Her father let the name roll over his tongue and he leaned back. "I've never heard of him, but we best be keeping our eye on that place."
Annalisa felt her stomach lurch as her thoughts touched upon the conversation that she heard between him and the stranger. And without thinking, Annalisa interjected, "I want to help." She jumped when she realized that she had said the words out loud.
With a raised brow, her father leaned over the counter. "Oh, really?"
After a moment, Annalisa nodded her head. Her heartbeat rose and the sound of rushing blood filled her ears. She immediately regretted saying anything to him.
Pursing his lips, he tapped the bar with his fingers in thought. But as he looked down, his eyes caught Annalisa's coffee cup. He spun it around to where her same could be seen, along with the blotched note. A deep chuckle sounded from within his chest. "I see you have made a connection." He paused. "There is a way that you could help, and I see there is no stopping you from wanting to prove yourself." He looked up and studied her for a minute before he continued. "I need you to get a job at this, Elm Street Coffee." He said with disgust on his lips.
Annalisa felt her jaw slacken as she processed his words.
"But I have conditions. One, you are not to mention that you are a Marzocco or the fact that you work for La Cosa Nostra. Two, you are to report back to me everything, and I mean everything, you find out about the owner and the store's connections. Three," He turned the cup to where Stephen's handwriting faced her. "This man is not to distract you from your purpose. Understood?"
She gulped. "Yes, father."
"Good. I want you starting as soon as possible." He stood to exit the bar, taking the cup in his hand. "I would suggest that you see to that." He tossed the cup in the trash and ducked behind the door that led to the back, leaving Annalisa alone in front of the register and the empty tip jar.