The Secret Life of a Romance Novelist

chapter two

Sunday was spent working on I wish this was little less patriarchal and a little more feminist, but my editor tells me that "arranged marriage to a Mr. Darcy-esc character" is a good idea (and why do I find this idea so attractive? It worries me) and drinking tea. It was gloriously uneventful.

Monday she tied on her apron and thanked everything that it was Hannah's day off. Today, her coworkers were Jarod, another NYU student who flirted with everyone, and Anna, who was rooming with her sister and trying to get into veterinarian school.

"So should we have the special be the new mango and banana frappuccino or the cinnamon chai frappuccino? Because like, it's still kinda summer, but it also feels like fall?" Anna rambled, as she tended to do.

"What does making it a special do again? Do we give a discount?" Jarod asked.

"Oh no! We just put it on the sandwich board outside!" Anna replied.

"Why don't you do both?" Jarod suggested, tossing the chalk to the red head.

Anna lit up, "Of course! That's a great idea!"

Ingrid unlocked the doors, letting hipster couple in, "Good morning!"

"Why hello there!" Jarod grinned from behind the register, "What can I do for you two this morning? And may I say that you both look very dapper today?"

Ingrid rolled her eyes, and busied herself cleaning tables and eight forty-five edged closer. As the golden hour got closer, she hurried to take over the register.

"You're a weirdo," Jarod commented as she pushed him out of the way.

Ingrid checked her watch, eight forty-five exactly. She bit her lip, nervous and excited. The bell above the door jingled and she watched as a middle-aged business man, complete with suit and graying side burns, got in line.

"The usual, Mr. Roberts?" Ingrid asked with a smile.

"The usual, Miss Ingrid," he said, ignoring her name tag (which read Iggy) as normal.

"Coming right up!" she chirped.

"How is your book coming?" he asked.

They'd met a year ago, when Ingrid had first been hired at Starbucks. Everyone had warned her about Mr. Roberts- so nasty and so cold and so horrible. But the other employees had deserted her when he'd come in on her first day.

"You're new," he'd snapped, "Venti double shot mocha with extra cream, that's the usual, remember that."

"Of course, Mr. Roberts," Ingrid has replied, hands shaking as she picked up his cup, ready to write the order on it.

"How do you know my name?" he growled.

"Because I've been warned about how much of a bastard you are!" Ingrid snapped in reply. She clapped her hand over her mouth, horrified.

But Mr. Roberts chuckled, "A bastard eh? Nice to know I still have a reputation."

"Well, if that what you want, but you don't seem so scary to me," Ingrid felt more confident now, scribbling his order on the cup, "I'm going to go whip this up."

"Not so scary?" he followed her to along the counter, "Don't kid, I'm a monster, my assistant tells me so."

Ingrid laughed, his voice had a twinge of accent that she couldn't quite place, but it was definitely sexy.

"What did you hire red riding hood?" she countered.

"Something like that," he replied.

And after that Ingrid was always sure to serve him, and Mr. Roberts would grow incredibly crabby if she wasn't his barista. Meanwhile, she developed the biggest crush on him.

Since then, they shared little details with each other. Ingrid mentioned she liked to write (not a lie) and Mr. Roberts had returned with the fact that he "worked in the book business" whatever that meant.

Weeks of spying and handing him things oddly had earned her the info that he didn't wear a wedding ring.

"But that doesn't mean anything," Liling had said, "Lots of guys don't wear a wedding ring. You said he's rich?"

"I said he looks rich," Ingrid replied, "Business man, suits, nice watch, you know."

"Well, he could have a mistress then, and that's why he doesn't wear his wedding ring, so the other woman doesn't figure it out," Liling countered.

"Uhg not helping!" groaned Ingrid.

But, mistress or not, these ten minutes every morning were the highlight of Ingrid St. Mont's day. They made small talk about coffee, the weather, literature, Ingrid made him his coffee, and he want on his way.

Ingrid snapped back to the present, "Oh the book's coming," she laughed, "As with anything, it's a process!"

"It's probably a bit too early to be thinking about this, but have you ever contemplated attempting to get it published?" Mr. Roberts asked.

Ingrid handed him his coffee and bit her lip, "Um, well, I haven't really contemplated getting it published."

Not a lie. There was no containing involved, it was going to be published. Her words and dirtiest thoughts published everywhere. It was thrilling, and scary. She wondered if Mr. Roberts ever read romance novels, being "in the book business" and all.

He nodded, thanking her for the coffee, "Thank you. It was a pleasure talking to you, as always."

"Yeah," Ingrid sighed, "I mean you too! Have a nice day!"

But he was already out the door.

"Girl, you've got it bad," Anna said.