Cappuccino Twist Read Online Free PDF Page A

in.  Even with a deadbolt and double chain lock, I didn’t feel secure.  The only “weapon” I carried with me was a Swiss Army knife earned on a Girl Scout camping trip when I was 12.  The paper-thin scissors and half inch blade certainly wouldn’t offer me much protection against an intruder.
    “What are you doing, Marlena?  This customer wants a double cinnamon latte with skim milk and a sugar straw!” Dario barked at me, whipping me out of my thoughts and back to an equally dreary reality.  Unfortunately for me, Dario had decided to rule in person over his dominion that day, and I needed to put up a convincing façade that I actually knew how to brew a cup of gourmet coffee.
    Frazzled, I grabbed the cinnamon shaker and poured it liberally over a hot latte as Dario hawked me from steps away.  Sugar straw?  What the hell is that?  Frantically, I searched for the edible accessory while Dario scolded me harshly.
    “Skim latte, Marlena! Are you deaf?” He hissed just loud enough for my co-workers to hear.  “That’s whole milk!”
    “I’ll take care of this.  You work the register, Marlena,” Luz intervened kindly as I gave her a grateful look warmer than baked bread.
    “I’m questioning your credentials, Marlena,” Dario said accusingly.  “You won’t last very long here if you can’t make coffee.”
    “Sorry.  Guess I’m just a little rusty,” I apologized.  Never before had I lied to get a job.  How ironic that I could reach the executive level in New York without exaggerating a single detail and the only way I could get a job as a barista in Spain was by concocting a whole web of lies.  Had my grandmother known what she was getting me into when she made me promise to avenge her sister’s death?  Maybe this whole experience was a crash course in channeling inner strength, and Nana had known how difficult my mission would be yet had faith in my capabilities.
    Mercifully, Dario stepped out for a cigarette break that lasted the better part of the morning as I relaxed and managed the cash register.  Pouring myself a robust Viennese roast and downing it without any cream or sugar, I watched with mild interest as the handsome man with the clipboard walked through the door.
    “What did you say his name was?” I whispered to Luz as she smiled.   “Eduardo?”
    “ Yeah, Eduardo.  Cute, isn’t he?” She jabbed me playfully in the arm. 
    “No, that’s not what I was thinking,” I denied as my nose grew to Pinocchio length.
    “Why don’t you offer him a cup of coffee on the house?” She suggested, clearly not believing me.
    “Don’t be silly.  I’m not offering him anything,” I said sharply.  Romance was the last item on my agenda…if it was even on the agenda at all.  I hadn’t had time for a man when I was an executive in Manhattan, and I certainly didn’t have time for one as a hard working sleuth in Barcelona.  But I had to admit that Eduardo was attractive, in a dangerous leading man sort of way.  And what was I?  A plain Jane in an apron and tennis shoes while a sea of Spanish beauties glided by in designer fashion and strappy heels.
    “I’m going to talk to him for you!” Luz said excitedly as my eyes widened in horror.
    “No you’re not!  Stop it! Look, I’m not your age, okay?  I’m 29, not 19 and I’m not going to let you make a fool of me!  Besides, didn’t you say he’s always talking to blondes? I’m probably not even his type.”
    Luz giggled and shrugged her shoulders.  “I guess you really do like him!”
    “How can I like him?  I’ve only seen him twice and I’ve never even spoken to him,” I protested as her giggles became louder, eventually erupting into a giant hiccup that startled the whole shop.
    “Are you happy now?” I asked with a smirk as she blushed.
    “I had too much Danish this morning,” she said sheepishly, returning to her post at the cappuccino machine and leaving me in peace.
    My shift ended without any further