So, instead of hauling my butt back upstate after that glorious interview, I came down here, to sulk with a cup of coffee and met Nic. She was as bright and spirited as any barista should be and we connected in the short time it took for her to whip up my latte. She asked to see my sketches and was blown away. “Hell, I’d hire ya,” she’d joked. Considering I was unemployed and already signed a sublet agreement for a small studio in Brooklyn, I came back with “how are the benefits?”

A few days later, I was standing beside her, helping take drink orders while she worked her coffee magic behind me.

“Will that be all?” I asked fluidly with a sharp smile.

“That’s it, thanks,” the guy answered without so much as a glance at me.

I tapped my foot, irritated at the lack of respect around here for the people who quite literally make your day-to-day manageable.

“Sure ‘bout that? Can I interest you in making that Americano an extra-large, it’s only twenty ce—”

“No. Thank you. I’m good.” This time, a wave of the hand, but his eyes still on his phone.

“How ‘bout a bear-claw? They’re my personal fav—”

“Just the coffee,” he barked, finally a hard set of eyes shooting up at me.

Was that so much to ask for?

“I’ve got this one today, sir.” Frankie stepped around him to cover his tab and handed the man his coffee.

Rude number forty-seven shook his head and marched off, disappearing into the crowded lobby.

“You need to take a walk or somethin’ Harp?”

I sighed at my boss. “Usual Frankie?”

“Make it a double and throw in the bear claw for me this time, will ya?” he slipped a ten-dollar bill in the tip jar, as usual.

I typically packed up a fruit yogurt for the old man instead of the high cholesterol pastry he always insisted on, but today, I thought better of further pissing off the man that signed my paychecks. I bagged the pastry and took the espresso Nic handed me. But Frankie already started heading to his office, which meant… I had to follow him.

I groaned. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

She winked at me and I slipped out from behind the bar.

Frankie was one of my favorite people at the magazine. He was the head of building operations and one of the grumpiest customers we had. He first noticed my artwork when he saw my sketches on the blackboard featuring the daily specials. I started naming Nic’s concoctions with sports references and a sketch to go along with it. Today was Touchdown Tuesday, a triple shot espresso poured over a spoonful of sugar, a dash of cinnamon and topped off with a hefty scoop of foam.