Mira never liked mornings. But now that she had to work in one, she officially hated them.
Her new job, which Diya gave her, involved delivering breakfast orders to VIPs who believed that spending money on chia pudding was self-care.
That morning, Diya handed her a brown bag with a smoothie bottle and a tiny cup of something, and Mira was pretty sure it was just blended ginger.
"You've got two deliveries today. One is for some wellness coach named Camilla who pays extra if you compliment her crystal collection."
Mira raised an eyebrow. "That's... specific."
"She believes her rose quartz is why she never gets traffic tickets."
"I'd like to believe you gave me this job because you care about me," Mira said, slinging on the delivery bag.
"I did," Diya said. "Mornings are slow. Hardly anyone orders food that early except a few rich regulars. It's peaceful, low-stress, and I still get to pay you. Call it a considerate loophole," Diya continued.
Mira smiled back, which screamed "I know" in a way of appreciation.
"Exactly. Now go. Be the kale fairy."
Mira left the building with an eye roll and a suspiciously light heart.
By the time she reached her second job at the café, she was surprisingly... not tired. She tied on her apron, pushed the door open, and there he was.
"You?" she said, startled.
Elliot looked up from wiping down the espresso machine and smiled. "Hey, partner!"
Mira sighed. "Are you haunting my schedule or something?"
"I like to think of it as fate. Or poor planning by management," Elliot chuckled.
Mira didn't respond right away. Her eyes lingered on his smile, caught in a trance. There was something about the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed — effortless, unguarded, genuine.
Elliot tilted his head and smirked. "Am I that handsome, or did I forget to wipe ketchup off my face?"
Snapped back to reality, Mira blinked, then let out a soft laugh. "Nah, Elliot, no ketchup for you to worry about. It's just that you have a wonderful smile," she said with a small, honest grin, then turned toward the reception desk without waiting for a reaction.
Elliot stood there for a second, stunned. He scratched the back of his neck, cheeks tinged pink. "That's not fair," he mumbled under his breath, a soft smile still lingering on his face.
They settled into a rhythm, doing their best to stay functional during the rush. Then, at peak caffeine hour, the espresso machine let out a violent hiss and died.
There was a beat of silence.
Elliot stared at it like it had personally betrayed him. "No. Not now," he said, shaking the espresso machine. "Come on," he begged.
Mira poked at it. "Did it just—? Is it smoking?"
"Definitely smoking."
"Okay. Time for plan B."
"You have a plan B?"
"I have panic instincts," Mira replied, already pulling out a French press and boiling water. "Start taking orders. I'll go hipster."
Elliot gaped. "You know how to—?"
"I dated a guy once who only drank single-origin beans from Papua New Guinea. I absorbed the trauma."
Customers began to pile up. Mira worked quickly, her sleeves rolled up, focused and calm until a customer asked for a half-sweet, oat milk, triple-shot something-something with a twist of lemon.
Mira stared. "Sir. This is a recovery operation. Please lower your expectations."
By the time the chaos died down, they were out of oat milk. Mira handed Elliot a paper cup.
"I call this one the 'No Thoughts, Just Brew.'"
He took a sip and smiled. "Surprisingly not bad."
"Your standards are terrifying."
Elliot walked a few steps back and leaned on the table, placing both his elbows and slowly sliding into a slouched position. Mira leaned on the counter, Elliot still catching his breath.
"So," he said, "that morning gig… what's that about?"
Mira leaned back. "Diya gave it to me. It's food delivery, but only for VIPs. Honestly, barely anyone orders breakfast, so it's super quiet. I get a little cash and a lot of time to scroll through scholarship sites."
Elliot frowned slightly. "She just gave you a chill job like that?"
"Yeah. I think it was her way of helping me out without making it a big deal."
He nodded slowly, pressing his lips together.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said. "It's just... nice. Having someone think about you like that."
Mira tilted her head. "You jealous of my delivery empire?"
Elliot gave a crooked smile. "Maybe I just want a friend like Diya."
"She's a menace," Mira said fondly. "But a helpful one."
Just then, the door chimed.
A girl walked in - sharp eyeliner, confident walk, and the kind of bag that screamed Instagram fashion influencer. Mira froze.
Aanya Patel.
"Oh wow," Aanya said, eyes widening. "Mira?"
Mira forced a customer-service smile. "Hey. Long time."
"I didn't know you were... here," Aanya said, glancing around the café like it was unfamiliar territory. "Didn't you go to Lakemont?"
"I did. Took a break."
Aanya smiled too brightly. "That's brave. I could never fall off track. But I'm sure this will develop your communication skills and patience, you know? Nothing like real-life experience."
Mira wanted to hand her a cookie just to shut her up. Instead, she rang up the order. "Almond milk latte?"
"You still remember."
"Like a traumatic flashback."
Aanya laughed, took her drink, and left — still confused, still winning.
Mira let out a breath.
Elliot slid her a cup of tea. "That must sting."
"You have no idea."
He watched her a second longer. "You handled that better than I would've."
"You don't cry in the walk-in freezer," Mira deadpanned. "Rookie mistake."
Mira sipped her tea, surprisingly at peace, and Elliot, quietly watching her out of the corner of his eye, felt the smallest pull of something unfamiliar.
Maybe admiration.Maybe interest.Maybe something that made him wish he'd met Mira before Diya did.But he knew even if he did meet her, he couldn't afford to help her.Still... "I wish," he muttered.