Pain And Pleasure 18+✓

Fifty-nine

Several Months Later...

My heels clatter femininely as I walk through the newly refurbished café, feeling radiant in my tight jeans and a long blazer. I smile at a couple seated at the immediate table from the counter, enjoying the scent of my success after many weeks of trials, hardships, and errors.

It's been a nightmare for the most part.

Customers are bustling beyond normal today, and I believe it has so much to do with our new barista, Steve Anderson. He's like a fashion model straight from Vogue magazine, and his coffee mixology is to die for.

"I still don't understand why we need another barista, Ara," Mr. Wang complains for the umpteenth. "Look at him—he's all good looks but nothing more! Are we running a fashion show here?"

"Well, he's like a good press, that is," I reply with a smile. "Can't you see the new stuff he brought in the menu?"

"Oh, don't get me started with that cocktail yadda yadda! What is that thing called again? Grand... grand what?"

"Grand caramel nonfat latte? It's a real deal, Grandpa! You should try it, too," I reply, grabbing a seat at the corner table where my laptop and some papers are scattered.

"No way! There's nothing better than a hand-drip espresso brewed from fine, fresh beans I've personally roasted," he starts; I roll my eyes. "It's called passion, Ara, something you young people hardly understand."

"Well, I call it Diversity Marketing, Mr. Wang. You get to keep your classic touch with your clients, and he keeps adding numbers with sales. Everyone goes home happy," I state dryly, for I'm not sure if I still have a heart left to entertain sentiments.

He gives me a piteous look. "You're all about money nowadays, aren't you?"

My heart pauses as I slowly glance at him. Sighing, I reply, "Yes, I am. One of us has to be a realist, and I've gladly chosen to be the one. To survive this ruthless world, you have to be one step ahead. I'm not ready to have a fucking bank forfeit everything I've worked so hard for just because I'm scared of change. I'm sorry if it's a tough road for you—truly I am."

He doesn't say a word, and I expected nothing less. So I take a deep breath and get back to my laptop.

"Speaking of money. I think we can clear the final installment by the end of the month." I'm going through the financial reports as I tell him this. "With half the profit we made this month, I can proudly say the numbers add up. If you're up to it, let's reclaim the reigns once and for all." I look expectantly at him, eager to finish the debt we still owe the bank.

"Already? I thought it'd take at least four months from now." He's shocked.

I smile bluntly and reply, "Even a small change can make a big difference if you play your cards right. Now please let me handle this place as I see fit, that way your fellow old sports won't ever lack the Chinese mooncake and espresso they love so much while my generation gets to enjoy the same coffee Tylor Swift likes."

Half-heartedly, Mr. Wang clears his throat, indicating surrender at last. "Okay. You do your thing, kid," he utters while getting up, ready to proceed with what he loves doing best—staying behind the counter. "But just know that money isn't everything. Don't let it steal everything you could enjoy at your age."

I don't respond to his remark, because I no longer care.

For the last eight months, we've had dozens of arguments and I hardly let him win. My goal is to make money and nothing more. I've tried to compromise with his primitive ways of operating the café, but it's about damn time that he starts adapting to the new world and order.