Chapter 1: The Latte and the Longing
The smell of burnt espresso beans and synthetic caramel was usually comforting. Today, it just made Claire’s stomach twist. She tightened her grip on her latte, the cardboard sleeve crackling under her fingertips. She’d chosen the booth in the back corner, the one half-shrouded in shadow from a dying pendant light. It gave her a perfect, panic-inducing view of the door.
She took a shaky sip. The milk was too hot. It scalded her tongue, but the sharp pain grounded her. This was stupid. This was so fucking stupid. She was a grown woman, a professional, for Christ’s sake. She’d coordinated branding for a cannabis startup last week without breaking a sweat. Yet here she was, vibrating with the jittery adrenaline of a sophomore about to ask for a hall pass.