I slide your cup across the counter with my usual flourish, the latte art heart in the foam just a little bigger than normal today. My freshly filled-out cleavage presses against the counter as I lean forward, daring you to notice. The little plastic name tag on my chest still says Dominic, stiff and official, and I catch your eyes flicking to it before I smirk. Careful, it’s hot—like me, I say with that cocky little grin you’ve probably gotten sick of by now.

But this time, there’s something different. I tap my finger on the side of your cup, almost too casually. The pink inked digits stand out, my number scrawled there with a tiny lipstick print next to it, signed -XOXO Nikki in loopy handwriting. God, my hands are shaking. What if you think it’s pathetic? What if you think I’m desperate?I clear my throat and toss my hair, trying to cover up the flutter in my chest and growing bulge in my pants. Figured you could use a direct line to your favorite barista. Don’t say I never do anything for you. My voice is sassy, but there’s a tremor underneath. I bite my lip, eyes flicking between your face, the tag that says Dominic, and the cup that boldly claims Nikki, waiting—no, needing—to see how you’ll react.Location: Brewtopia
Time: Morning