feeling of freedom it brings. I pull into Whispering Winds Café house and fall in love instantly. It’s an old school café compared to Starbucks, but that’s what makes it so much more. In the back is the counter complete with an old school register, in the middle of the floor are pub tables, and hugging the walls, including the windows, are nooks. Each nook has two miss-matched loveseats with a unique table in the center. The tables are the only modern piece of furniture. Each table has an outlet plug built into its base, providing power for laptops or chargers.
The atmosphere is unbelievably cozy. It screams home. In the back left is a little stage. Next to it is an easel set up with a chalk bored with dates and times of local artist’s performances. Music, poetry, readings, and painting; I have to admit the painting has me curious and I hope I end up working that night. I make my way to the counter and my gaze collides with Martha’s, who is smiling at me brightly.
“How do you like it?” She asks, with her arms open, gesturing to the store, radiating pride.
“I love it! It’s so vintage and has this cozy aura that makes it so you can’t help but feel at home,” I beam at her.
Smiling, “I knew the moment I saw you, you were going to fit in perfectly. Not to mention you’re going to bring in the male customers.”
My brows furrow.
“Oh please hunny, you can’t tell me you don’t see it. All the guys in this store have had their attention on you since you walked through that door,” she laughs.
I take a look around and see the patrons in the store. She’s right. All the guys, even the workers, have their eyes glued to me and as I meet their look they smile. Blushing slightly, I turn away.
“Right. Well, whatever helps the business! What would you like me to do?” I ask.
“Let’s finish up your paperwork and then I’ll show you the register ,” she says as she’s walking back to the office. “I’m going to have you as the designated cashier at night. You look like you have a good memory and can handle the fast pace. Am I right? Not to mention that,” she gestured to my cast.
“Yes ma’am. I can remember almost everything and speed isn’t a problem. The cast should be coming off soon and then you can cross-train me.” I wince at the choice of words I just used, but she doesn’t seem to notice and if she does she ignores it.
After paperwork is complete and a few supervised transactions, I’m on my own for the rest of the day. She was right about the guys. I don’t think I’ve ever been asked for my number so much, ever. But it did provide for nice tips. I was told the tips get split among the three working that day, the cashier and the two baristas. Lucky for me, today both baristas are guys and they let me keep all the tips. Saving money is going to be easy if I work with these guys all the time.
Grabbing a bottle of water I take a sip, say goodbye to everyone, and jump on my bike heading for home. I park the bike on the side of the house since it looks like it might rain, and head inside. As soon as I’m near the couch I collapse half on and half off of it. I drape my legs over the arm rests, close my eyes, and relax. That’s until I hear a chuckle coming from the hallway. At the sound I jump up defensive. When I realize it’s just Angel, I relax my stance, and plop back on to the couch. I remove my shoes and rub my feet with my available hand and a sigh escapes my mouth.
“Tough day?” he asks.
I shake my head no, “Just not used to standing on my feet for eight hours.”
He comes over, lifts my legs, and sits down. Pushing my hand out of the way he starts messaging my feet, working his way up my calves, and back down to my feet.
“It’s going to get easier for you once you get used to it,” he smiles at me.
“Well , I got good tips,” I smirk.
“Oh , really? I didn’t know they gave tips at a coffee shop. And what’s with the smirk?” Humor evident in his
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