Olivia's POV
The morning rush hit like a caffeine-fueled tsunami. I barely had time to breathe between orders. Frantic customers barked their demands as I pirouetted between gleaming machines, my hands a blur of practiced motions.
"Grande soy latte, extra hot!"
"Venti cold brew, light ice!"
"Quad espresso, stat!"
I nodded, smiled, and churned out drinks faster than I could blink. The air hung thick with the rich aroma of freshly ground beans and steamed milk. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I juggled pitchers and pumps, my mind focused solely on not screwing up the following order.
"Can I get your finest latte, please?"
That voice. Smooth as silk, dripping with charm. My heart skipped a beat as I slowly turned, praying I'd imagined it.
Nope. There he stood, Christo
