Harriet
She took another bite of her blueberry muffin, staring out of the coffee shop's window. Her mind was miles away, but her eyes were glued to the raindrops rolling down the glass.
Most people dread Monday mornings. A single bite of Cale's Cafe's blueberry muffin and a hot cup of coffee would be enough to set Harriet on the right track.
Little did she know that this wasn't a regular Monday morning.
As soon as she finished her breakfast, she cleaned up her table, grabbed her coat and umbrella.
"See ya, Scott!" She waved at him with a slight smile, just like every Monday, before heading off to class.
"Later!" He spilled a little coffee on a customer's hand as he turned around to wave her goodbye. He rushed to clean it up and apologized about ten thousand times before dashing back to the counter. This was definitely not his typical Monday morning.
It seemed as if the clock on the shop's wall was going backward. He rapidly tapped his fingers on the counter, letting his anxiety get the best of him. How much slower could this Monday morning be? But, even more importantly, how much longer until Harriet came back for her usual Monday lunch?
He had made the corniest habit out of keeping up with her daily.
He loved watching her zone out during breakfast, wondering what went through her head every single morning. He loved watching her scan through the whole menu, over and over, day after day, even though she always ordered the same.
Something about her big brown eyes being so focused made his heart ache. The way her wavy mermaid blue hair framed her face and highlighted her eyes was enough to light up Scott's day.
Even if she was just in for a cup of her favorite coffee, he'd make damn sure he poured it perfectly. Perfect temperature, perfect cup, perfect amount of almond milk. He'd had the recipe tattooed forever in his memory. But what else could you expect after 10,653 cups of coffee?
Not that anybody was keeping score...
"I see Harriet dropped by already!" Lena's voice brought him back to earth, and he shook his head as if trying to readjust to reality.
"Why do you always have to assume my world revolves around her?! Geez!"
"Doesn't it? Every time that girl stops by, you zone out and zombify your way through the day until lunch." She pointed out. "Just tell her already!"
"I have no idea what you're implying, Lena... She's just a friend." He snorted. "Just a customer."
"Yeah... How noble of you to know your customer's orders by heart."
Lena was Harriet's cousin. She worked for Scott as a waitress at Cale's. They had all been friends since elementary school.
You would think Harriet would have noticed Scott's crush by now. You would be wrong.
They had played video games, gone to the movies, played paintball, been in the same classes since 5th grade. Yet Harriet never even remotely realized the way Scott looked at her. Not the way he seemed to remember every single word that had ever come out of her mouth. Not the way he knew about all of her likes, dislikes, and allergies better than his own. Not even the way he took extra time to close the shop after she was done doodling in her sketchbook.
She was always clueless about whatever went on in his mind about her. To Harriet, Scott was just a good friend she'd made back in elementary school. He just happened to own the best coffee shop on Earth. They always had the best coffee, the best food, and they were always willing to adjust to her food allergies, as if the staff knew exactly what she was not supposed to be having.
Harriet had made a habit of having breakfast at Cale's every morning before class, and then lunch before work.
She always enjoyed how they allowed her to spend ages at her favorite table and doodle away. Scott would sit down and chat if there wasn't much work to do, so she always found the shop a very relaxing place.
Harriet wrote and drew storybooks for children. She was in the middle of drafting the first lines of her new book's character when a big cup of black coffee landed on her table, knocking her own cup down and spilling coffee all over the table. Her whole drawing was soaked and stained. Absolutely ruined in a matter of seconds.
"You asshole!" She shouted, not bothering to look up, not remotely caring who it might have been.
"I am terribly sorry, darling. I'll get the waitress to wipe your table," a male voice stated. A voice so deep and dark, it instantly made her think of pipe tobacco and rainy nights.
She tried not to appear softened by his voice, but she allowed herself to look up, meeting his eyes automatically. She froze, feeling herself drown in those dark blue eyes. "Just watch where you're going! You just got my whole day's work ruined!"
"No need to get all feisty, babe. I'll get you sorted out! Want a refill?" He winked at her, but she didn't let herself admit it made her heart skip a beat.
"Just leave me alone, gigantor!" She turned back to her table, trying to wipe it clean with a few napkins, mocking his impressive height.
"Geez! You're quite snappy! I'll just be on my way, then," and with that, he sat at the booth next to hers. She rolled her eyes, thinking there were so many vacant tables, but he had to choose the one next to her.
"Is this guy bothering you, Harriet?" Scott to the rescue!
"I just need to wipe up the spilled coffee. Thanks, Scotty!" He nodded and went to the back to get a cloth.
"So the name's Harriet..." Harriet shivered, hearing his voice again, trying really hard to appear uninterested. She turned her head around and glared his way. He didn't even move. The corners of his lips did curl up a bit as he grinned. "Mine's Luke."
