The Royal Romance - Good To The Last Drop

Definitely drink in

Maxwell was buzzing with nervous excitement when he arrived at Drake and Meghan's flat for the first time. He was just about to dramatically knock on the door, then he had a thought.

Um, what if they're "busy"?

He decided to send Meghan a text. U GUYS IN?

He didn't get a response.

Crap. They might be busy.

He decided that he'd wander up and down the street a bit until he got a response. But five minutes later, still no response. Awww.

He didn't really know how to feel about this. When Meghan was at court, he'd always been able to turn up to her room unannounced, bounce in whenever it suited him, and she'd always greeted him with a welcoming smile, and sometimes a big hug... But now she was living with Drake... engaged to Drake.... It didn't seem that awkward to start with, but now...

Still no response. He looked across the street and saw a coffee shop. Looked like one of those American wannabe ones. NYCOFFEE. Ooh, clever! Probably run by someone as Cordonian as apples, but it wasn't like there were any clubs open right now, so maybe he'd pop in there to kill some time. It was a tad chilly after all.

He opened the door, and it smelt like coffee heaven. He quickly shut the door behind him, not wanting to let any of that delicious aroma out. He headed to the counter. Nobody else was in here, there was no barista behind the counter as he headed to it.

But then the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life came out to meet him.

She had the most amazing green eyes, soft brown skin, and her hair was a sea of perfect black curls, although she wore a little barista hat to keep them back from her face. She wore a dark brown uniform, with a bright orange badge saying "Jen".

And then she smiled at him and it almost knocked him out.

"Hey. Welcome to NYCoffee. What can I get you?"

And ohmygod, she's actually from New York too. Just like Meghan.

"Uh...."

Then she giggled. "You've not been in here before, right? I'll give you a minute to peruse the menu."

Right. Right Maxwell. Peruse the menu. Not the hot American barista.

She started wiping down the countertop, he did briefly start looking at the menu but his eyes soon flickered back to her. Oh god. Someone help me.

"Think I need help," he said. "What would you recommend?"

She looked up at him. "Well, I make a mean cortado."

"Then one of those, please!"

"Sure. Drink in or take away?"

"Oh, definitely drink in." He intended to stay in this heavenly being's presence for as long as could be deemed socially acceptable.

He watched, enchanted, as she prepared the drink, swirling what looked like the logo from the shop window onto the top. "There. That'll be three euros please."

He flashed his card at her, and she took it. She laughed for some reason as she put it through her card reader.

"Y'know, we don't sell your type of coffee here," she said with a smirk, when she gave him his card back.

"I don't get it."

"You know. Your House coffee."

Ohhh, she'd seen the name on his card and she'd figured out who he was. But wait, what was she talking about? "House Beaumont don't do their own coffee... at least I don't think we do?"

"What?" She looked as confused as he was now.

"What?"

"I was talking about Maxwell House."

"Ohhh.." He got it now, and made fingerguns at her. "That's me. Good to the last drop."

She raised her eyebrows. "Well, hopefully you'll think that about my cortado."