08:15 AM - 1. Eight-fifteen

Eight-fifteen

A turn is a unit of angle measurement equal to 360° or 2π radians. A turn is also referred to as a revolution or complete rotation or full circle or cycle or rev or rot.

Analog clocks usually indicate time using angles. The most common clock face uses a fixed numbered dial or dials and moving hand or hands. It usually has a circular scale of 12 hours.

(Wikipedia)

Romeo watched the clock over the entrance door. The second hand hopped over the twelve and another minute had gone by. Eight-thirteen a.m.

“One maple mocha to go, please.” Like every morning, Lila was getting a coffee for her boss. “And something to go with that that will make her real fat.” Their relationship wasn’t the best.

Grinning, Romeo grabbed one of the tall paper cups, poured a double shot of espresso, and mixed it with chocolate syrup. He showed her the bottle. “Lots of sugar.” She grinned enthusiastically.

After adding steamed milk, he lifted the spoon dripping with whipped cream. “That’s the real thing, not that spray can stuff.”

She crowed. “With lots of fat! Got it!”

Finally Romeo topped everything off with a generous amount of maple syrup. “Aaand lots of sugar again.”

But Lila scrunched her forehead. “That’s not enough. She’ll just burn it off at the gym and by yelling at me at the top of her lungs.” Smirking, she pointed at the large plates holding all kinds of pastries. “Give me one of those tri-chocolate muffins.”

Romeo picked out the largest he had. “This do?”

“Perfect.”

He put it in a paper bag, and pushed everything over to Marge at the checkout desk. “See you tomorrow, Lila.” Chuckling, he watched her throw the change into the tip jar.

“Good morning, Romeo.”

Mr. J. Gerald.

Romeo chanced a quick look to the wall clock. Eight-fifteen. He smiled. “Good morning, Mr. Gerald.”

“A large mochaccino and…” The man perused the pastry selection. “One of those honey-roasted pecan nut muffins, please.”

Ever since Mr. J. Gerald had first come into his shop three months ago, listening to him ordering coffee made Romeo’s heart beat faster. That voice…just did it for him. Deep and…rumbly.

Romeo steeled himself with a short extra breath, before he met the man’s pale grey eyes. “A mochaccino and a pecan nut muffin coming right up. I’ll bring everything over to your usual table in a minute, Mr. Gerald.”

“Thank you, Romeo.” Mr. Gerald winked? at him before he turned around and headed for the table over to the left, with the two love seats. Like every morning, he got his tablet computer out to read the news while he waited for Romeo to bring his coffee and muffin of choice.

Working on autopilot, Romeo took a large, white ceramic cup from the heater, filled it with one-shot of espresso, and mixed it with chocolate powder before he topped it off with steamed milk and foam. A light sprinkle of nutmeg, and the mochaccino was done. Next came the muffin. He put it on a plate and then couldn’t resist swirling some chocolate syrup around. The plate had looked so naked. And the little heart-shaped cookie made it look even nicer.

Romeo dried his damp hands on his apron, picked up the cup and plate and went over to J’s table.

J. Like James? Jacob? John? Jordan? Jesse? Jayden?

“Here you go, Mr. Gerald. One mochaccino and a honey-roasted pecan nut muffin.”

“Thank you, Romeo.” The man looked at the chocolate decorations and suddenly Romeo felt embarrassed. Especially when Mr. Gerald took the little cookie, dipped it into the syrup, and popped it in his mouth. Then the tip of his tongue came out to lick his lips clean of a bit of chocolate sauce.

What had he just done?

Romeo fled behind the security of his counter, his heart pounding in his chest. Collecting himself with a deep breath, he smiled at the next customer. “Good morning. Welcome to Romeo’s Coffee Shop. What can I get you?”

Five minutes later they had one of those strange lulls. Nobody demanded coffee or cake, distracting Romeo from his favorite pastime lately: watching his customers.

Customer.

“He’s old.” Seventeen-year-old Oliver, high school student, and recurrent smartass-of-the-day award winner, currently learning the fine art of coffee brewing and cake serving, was suddenly beside him. “He could be my dad.”

Irritated, Romeo snapped, “For you everyone over twenty-five is old.”

“He has white hair!”

“That’s called salt and pepper hair and I happen to think it’s hot.”

“You like old men?”

Romeo smacked him upside his head. “He’s not old.”

“Hmm.” Oliver rubbed the back of his head. “At least he’s not fat like my dad.” Probably to be on the safe side, he then took a step back, before continuing, “But he’s wearing suits, like, all the time.”

“And?”

“Really? You want a guy in a suit?”

“Why not?”

“Yeah, right.” Oliver waved his hand at Romeo in an up and down motion. “If you swapped your once-nice black jeans for a new pair without holes,” then he tapped against Romeo’s chest, “and the skintight black tee for a nice, white buttoned-down dress shirt, then…maybe. Not to mention this bandana skull cap thingy on your head. Get a haircut man!”

That made Romeo run his hand over his head self-consciously. “What’s wrong with this?” He wore the bandana to keep his curls under control. They eventually always managed to escape the short ponytail, and he couldn’t have them hanging into his eyes when he was working. This had been the one point which his aunt and he had always disagreed on. He didn’t want to cut his hair; he kinda liked it long.

When he finally looked over at Mr. J. Gerald’s table again, he was gone. Well, there was always tomorrow.

***

Romeo was watching the clock again. He knew he should stop that. It was distracting him. He’d already screwed up Mrs. Ridalski’s latte and given Lila the wrong muffin. Fat-reduced and with less sugar. Fatal mistake. He shook his head. Crushing on a customer was bad form. He could hear his aunt’s voice in his head. Loud and clear. ‘Romeo, you’re not a simple barista anymore. You’re a business owner now. You can’t just slip the man a napkin with your number scribbled on it. If he wanted to call you, he could always use the number already printed on it.’

Romeo glanced at the wall clock, just catching the second hand completing another full circle. Pulling the tea towel from the back pocket of his jeans, he started to wipe down the counter. Lila had long gone. Eight-thirteen. So had Mrs. Kaminski. Eight-twenty-five. And Mrs. Ridalsky. Eight-thirty-two. J was officially late. Traffic was a bitch in the morning. That or he’d seen Romeo watching him all the time and it had made him uncomfortable enough to go to another coffee shop.

Hearing familiar laughter brought Romeo out of his gloomy thoughts. He slung the towel over his shoulder, then leaned forward just a little, so that he could have a better view of the table by the window, where Jonah slash Paris was expertly feeding his lover cheesecake. Their dog was following the fork’s every move with its eyes, but to its greatest regret, they hadn’t dropped anything on the floor yet. Seeing them like this, Romeo suddenly felt lonely. They looked so happy. Caring for his aunt when she had gotten sick and suddenly owning a business after she had died, he didn’t have much time to go out and get a boyfriend. Or even a quick fuck.

Paris drank the rest of his vanilla latte and Ren brushed away the milk mustache with his thumb before he gave him a kiss. Romeo wanted that. Preferably with Mr. J. Gerald. A man could dream, couldn’t he?

The door opened and a large group of customers came in. Romeo poured coffee, steamed milk, squeezed syrup bottles, sprinkled chocolate powder, stirred tea, clipped lids on mugs to go – thirty minutes over his usual time, and still no Mr. J. Gerald.

Maybe something had happened to him. Hadn’t he heard the sirens of an ambulance earlier?

Romeo was setting a new plate with scones on the counter, when he finally heard the voice he had been waiting for all morning. “Romeo! I need something to wake me up ASAP!” Placing his briefcase on the counter, J rummaged through the pockets of his pants. “And put it into a to-go mug. Thom will rip my head off if I’m late again.”

Romeo set the plate down so hard, that some of the scones tumbled onto the counter. Not that he cared. “I’ll make you a double red-eye.” He grabbed a large paper cup then shot a brief glance at J. Bloodshot eyes, disheveled hair, tie slightly askew. He looked like he’d had one hell of a night. Before he could stop himself, he asked, “Who’s Thom?”

Not your business, Romeo.

If J noticed the inappropriate question, he didn’t let on. “My business partner. We have an important meeting this morning.” The man was searching through his coat pockets now. “I know I have it somewhere.”

“So, what happened?” He just couldn’t keep his big trap shut, could he?

But luckily J didn’t seem to mind. “Life happened. I worked late, then got home and worked some more in my home office. We need the plans this morning and I hadn’t realized how much work still had to be done. When I was finally ready to upload, I couldn’t get access to our servers because maintenance was going on. I’d totally forgotten about that. In the end, I simply put everything on a flash drive just to be on the safe side, before I fell into bed around four a.m. And if that wasn’t enough, I must have forgotten to charge my phone and the battery died during the night.” J yawned and quickly hid it behind his hand, before he started searching around in his briefcase. Keys, a phone, a shell, and some loose change had already landed on the counter before him. “Sorry Romeo, I can’t find my wallet.” He went through the pockets of his coat again, then his pants.

Romeo set the coffee on the counter. “One double red-eye.” Then he put a paper bag with a scone and his newest muffin creation beside it. “On the house. Go!” He waved his hand in the direction of the door and grinned.

“Really? Thanks, Romeo!” J hastily collected everything he had thrown on the counter, stuffed it back into his briefcase before he grabbed the coffee and the paper bag, and hurried out the door. Romeo shook his head. Disheveled J was too cute. Humming to himself, he put the scones back on the plate before he started to wipe away the crumbs.

What’s that?

He picked up a small leather case and turned it in his hand. Inside he found two flash drives.

Crap! That had to be J’s. “Oliver!”

The boy immediately came running from the back room, carrying a plate with cheesecake. “Boss?”

“You have to take over for me.”

“What? Why? I can’t—”

“Improvise! J’s left his flash drives on the counter and he’s having a presentation or meeting or something this morning!” Pulling off his apron, Romeo was running around the counter, and heading for the door. Outside he looked left and right. Nothing! Then he saw a dark blue Audi Q7 pulling out, using a gap in the thick traffic. “Mr. Gerald! Hey, Mr. Gerald!” Romeo ran after the car, but J didn’t hear him and sped off, before he could reach him.

“Damn!” Romeo didn’t have a car, only his bike back in the shop’s rack. But traffic would be bad downtown and riding his bike could actually be an advantage. With some luck, J would be held up by the dozens of traffic lights, enough for Romeo to still be able to catch him if he hurried.

Panting, he thumbed the combination into the heavy lock securing his bike, pulled it open and slung it over his shoulder. He mounted the saddle and rode after his favorite customer.

What if it isn’t Mr. Gerald’s flash drive but someone else’s?

Romeo pedaled as hard as he could, all the while looking for the blue car. Rounding a corner, he finally spotted it sitting at a red light.

Almost there.

The light changed to green.

Damn!

When was the last time he’d biked this fast? Romeo could feel his muscles starting to ache.

The SUV to the left of him suddenly changed lanes. Romeo barely had time to brake to avoid crashing right into it. “Asshole!” His heart was thumping in his chest again and he swallowed hard.

That was close.

He frantically looked around. J’s car was nowhere to be seen.

Damn it all!

Getting up from the saddle, Romeo stretched his body as far as he could. There! Finally! The blue car was sitting at another red light. It looked like J was drumming his fingers on the wheel. Hail traffic jam and red lights in the morning! This time he would make it.

Romeo reached the driver’s side just when the light changed to green again.

Bending sideways, he quickly knocked against the window. “Mr. Gerald! Mr. Gerald!” The man turned his head and scowled.

Romeo could see the exact moment J recognized him. The window went down. “Romeo! What are you doing here?”

The car behind them honked.

Hunched over his handlebars, Romeo had to take in several deep breaths, before he could fish the small leather case out of his jeans pocket. He held it up. “Is this yours? I found it on the counter.”

Mr. Gerald’s eyes widened. “Yes! That’s my data stick!” Realization flickered over his face. “I left it when I searched for my wallet!”

“Yeah.”

By now the guy behind them was yelling expletives to finally get moving and other cars were honking impatiently.

Romeo reached through the window. “Here, take it. Red Face behind us is about to get out of his car and I don’t think he wants to give me a hug.”

But Mr. Gerald shook his head and pointed at a small road leading to an underground car park. “Meet me there.”

Romeo watched him pulling into the driveway, but seeing the rude gestures and angry faces of some of the drivers, he decided it would be better to wait until the traffic light turned red again, before he tried to cross the street.

J was leaning against his car when Romeo reached him. As soon as he saw Romeo he took a step forward. “Romeo! You must have ridden like a maniac to be able to catch me on a bike.”

“Err…”

Then, before Romeo could react, Mr. Gerald grabbed both of his shoulders. “And I’m so glad you did! Thom and I worked for months to get everything done for this presentation. He would have had my head if I had screwed this up for us.”

“I wasn’t entirely sure it was yours or whether you actually needed this. Don’t you have a copy on your laptop or something?” Romeo ducked his head, subconsciously tugging at his bandana, before shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.

Mr. Gerald actually blushed. “I do, only in my rush to make it in time and still have my much-needed coffee, I grabbed the wrong bag.” He pointed at a black nylon backpack lying in the backseat. “It’s my old laptop.” He shrugged. “I guess I’m more sleep deprived than I had thought.”

They stood there staring at each other until Mr. Gerald’s phone rang. He cringed. “That’s Thom. He’s probably wondering where I am.”

“Okay.” Romeo rubbed his hands against the fabric of his jeans. His faded black jeans. With holes at the knees. “I better get back to the shop before Oliver accidentally poisons some of my customers.” He fumbled with some loose pieces of the handlebars.

Mr. Gerald nodded. “Who knows, maybe he invented some interesting new coffee recipes.”

“Or that.” Romeo chanced a brief look. Their eyes met. “Anyway, I better get going.” He put his foot on the pedal. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Gerald?”

“Julian.”

Romeo stopped mid-motion. “Huh?”

“My name.” Mr. Gerald placed his hand on Romeo’s shoulder, effectively stopping him from riding away. “Romeo, you saved me from great embarrassment today. Thank you.”

Romeo smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“Could I persuade you to have dinner with me sometime this week? Maybe on Friday?”

“D-Dinner?”

Julian suddenly grinned. “Food? At a restaurant? After six p.m.? Dinner.”

“Oh.” Then it dawned on him.

No reason to get overly excited. He only wants to be nice and thank me for bringing him the flash drive.

“That’s okay, Mr. Gerald. No need to do that. The exercise was reward enough.”

But Mr. Gerald didn’t let go of his shoulder. “I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a while now, I just—”

Romeo blinked. “Ask me out?”

“On a date, yes.”

Words were failing him. Closing his eyes, Romeo tried to steady his breathing.

Wow!

Julian pulled his hand away, suddenly looking insecure. “I-I thought…Did I just overstep my boundaries?”

Wow.

Romeo smiled dreamily. That was what he had been silently or not so silently wishing for since Julian had first come into his coffee shop.

For Months.

“Julian.” He pulled at the man’s arms until their bodies were almost touching. “I can’t believe your name really is Julian.” Then he kissed him on the cheek. “See you tomorrow, Jules.” He set his foot back on the pedal. “And I’d really like to go with you on a date.” He cocked his head. “That’s food with a good-night kiss. Right?”

Not waiting for an answer, Romeo rode back to his coffee shop.

Romeo and Julian. Julian and Romeo.

Paris would have a fit.

A big 'THANK YOU' to Valkyrie, who did the final proof.