Kofi's Coffee

Chapter 1

Kofi POV:

I kept glancing back and forth at the clock hanging across room above the fire place. The small hand was getting closer and closer to 4 which meant I only had around 10 minutes of work left. I had been working since 9 A.M. My legs were sore, my head was slightly pounding, and all I wanted at this point was to go back home and shower away my sins of the night before. This was the last time I would ever go out drinking the night before work. However, in my defense, I was not scheduled to work but since my parents own this cafe shop and were short staffed, I, wanting to be a good daughter, volunteered my Saturday to help them out.

The familiar sound of the door chime went off meaning someone had either walked out or in. I was hoping someone had left so I wouldn't have to take another order. I tore my eyes away from the clock and shifted them towards the door.

A group of 3 teenaged girls walked through the door.

"Fuck," I sighed and watched them as they made their way to the counter where I was at.

I shouldn't be complaining, I did this to myself. However, I had handled at least 10 rude customers by this point and I was tired of having to talk to people and pretend like I wasn't two seconds away from falling asleep or beating someone's ass.

"Hi," I said as cheerfully as possible as they reached the counter.

The girls shifted their focus from the menu hanging on the wall behind me onto my probably oily face with bags underneath my hazel eyes.

"Hi," one of the girls said while shifting her eyes back to the menu, "can I get an...uhm...small mango Italian soda with whipped cream."

"Of course, that will be 2.20," I replied with a slight smile, "Can I get a name for the order?"

"Ashley," she replied.

I finished her order and handled her two friends orders all the while trying to ignore the fact that I could hear the door chime again.

The girls walked away from the counter and to the other end of the counter where they'd get their drinks.

My eyes focused back on the clock on the wall. Five more minutes.

"Hi," I heard a voice say.

A petite woman was on the other said of the counter, clearly trying to get my attention so I could take her order.

I smiled and mumbled a "sorry."

She gave a slight smile in response and replied, "no worries."

I hadn't really taken her in since she had caught me off guard. It was hard to get a good look at her since she was wearing sunglasses and had a black cap on her head. The only things I could really see was her silver hoop nose ring that stood out against her brown skin and her plump pink lips.

"Can I get a large iced matcha with 2% milk please," she said as she pulled out her wallet from a brown hand bag she carried.

Her voice was possibly one of the softest voices I have ever heard. I don't mean soft as in I could barely hear her either. It was soft in the way that her words almost sounded like they were being sung. It was hands down the most beautiful order I have ever heard.

I cleared my throat, trying to collect my thoughts, "yea, that will be 4.30. Can I get a name for the order?"

"Penny," she said as she handed me her debit card.

Taking her card, I swiped it, handed it back, and waited for the receipt to print out.

I wanted to hear her talk again but I didn't know what to say.

The receipt printed and I handed it over to her so she could sign and tip if she wanted to.

I watched as she quickly signed and handed me back the receipt. She tipped me two dollars, which was more than I had expected to get. A lot of people don't tip.

"What time do y'all close?" She asked, her voice still as soft as the first time she spoke.

"At 10," I answered immediately.

"Thank you," she said and walked over to another counter to wait for her drink.

I looked back at the clock, just a few more minutes. A couple of customers came in and I spent the rest of the time taking their orders.

The clock struck 4, and I immediately grabbed my shit getting ready to head back to my apartment and take a bath.

The small woman with the voice of an angel, Penny, caught my eye in the corner of the room as I walked out of the cafe after signing out. She was writing in a journal. Her sunglasses were now off and I caught a small glimpse of her dark brown eyes as she looked around the room for, I'm assuming, an inspiration to write. Then her eyes shifted back to her journal and she scribbled away.