MORE THAN A CRUSH, FATED TO LOVE.

... " I assure you, employing me will definitely be the best decision for your company. " I concluded. “It's alright," the interviewer began. “ We'll review your application and get back to you,” he said. Those words again. I admit, I expected that. I mean, who would want a web analyst as a production manager in their firm? This was the only company that even agreed to an interview with me. With my poor result and the competitive market, getting a job in my field is close to impossible. Stepping out of the company's gate, I turned and took a good look at the company I won't come back to. “Well, at least I tried," I said softly to myself. Facing the road once more, I mentally calculated the money I had left for the week and started my walk back home. I have to make the sacrifice, a little more groceries over a fair ride back home. It was like the walk of shame as I watched cars roll by and people on the street in fancy suits. Life that I can only dream of but never attain. This street holds the richest companies and people in the whole country. I understand well the gap between us in class and status. I dust the invincible specks of dirt on the sleeves of my jacket, the only formal wear I own. Turning 25 in a few weeks with no solid plans yet for the future. The only good thing I have going is that I don't have to pay rent. The house my parents left me is the only thing stopping me from feeding off the street. But with the bills it comes with, I'll be drowning in debt soon without a stable income. Concentrating on my surroundings again as my stomach grumbled, the fancy coffee shop in front of me definitely wouldn't have something I could afford. One beagle may cost my groceries money for the week. Slowing down my pace, I looked in through the clear glass windows. The shop is almost empty. The big clock on the wall behind the barista showed 9:00am. I came to a halt as I watched the remaining customers file out. I figured it was the start of their business day. "City Brew." The name slid out of my mouth softly. It was written in bold cursive above the clear glass windows. I stood outside, staring at it for about a minute, trying to envision my next step. "Are you okay?" I heard someone ask. Lowering my eyes to the door, I stared at the lady's head peeking outside the slightly open door. It was the barista I saw behind the counter through the window. "Yes, I'm fine," I responded. "Alright, is there anything you want?" she continued. "No..." I hesitated, "Actually, yes." I responded. "Is there an opening I can apply to here?" I asked politely. "Uhm, I don't know, " she straightened. "Why don't you come in, and I'll get my manager." She opened the door wider so I could go through. "Oh my God! Thanks," I responded, walking inside the shop. I stood closer to the door and took in the elegance of the shop. It wasn't empty as I previously thought. There was someone at the blind spot of the window. Half of his face was covered with a nose mask, and his suit was completely black. He was reading from a book and had a coffee cup on his table. I caught his eyes as I stared, and I shyly looked away. I sat at a table far from him, already feeling his eyes on me again. I nervously started tapping on the table with my fingers as I waited for the manager. It was the longest two-minute wait of my life, wishing the earth would swallow me whole to avoid the pair of eyes on me. Watching the manager walk toward me gave me great relief as his gaze finally dropped. I straightened up my back while standing up to greet the manager. He's a middle-aged big guy with a beer belly wearing what appears to be the cafe's tee on black jeans. "Good morning, sir," I greeted, bowing slightly. "Good morning, Miss?" He said, gesturing with his right hand for a response. "Sarah, Sarah Smith," I responded. "Alright, Miss Sarah, Niki told me you wanted to speak with me," he began. Niki would be the nice barista I spoke to. "She has a lovely name." I thought to myself. "My name is Samuel Brown," he continued, "you can call me Sam." He said, stretching out his palm for a handshake. "Thank you, Mr Sam," I said, nervously taking his outstretched hand with both palms. After the handshake, I continued, "Sir, I would like to work here.". His face showed shock. I guess he did not expect me to be straightforward. "Do you have the qualifications? What makes you think we need more workers here?" He bombarded softly. "I'm sorry if I come across as desperate, the truth is that I might be," I said, looking down at the table. "I really need a job," I continued drawing invincible lines on my skirt with my finger. "As for qualifications, I've had plenty working 3 years in two separate cafés," I said, raising my head to meet his eyes. Still nervous, I continued, "I don't know if you need more workers, as I did not see a listing or a sign out there. With my experience and knowledge in customer service, and my ability to learn and adapt easily, I would be a great asset to the cafe. " Giving him the brightest smile I could muster at the moment, I added, 'Please.' He gave a small laugh, shaking his head, "Alright, let's go into my office and discuss further." He stood up, leaving the table. "Follow me." Walking further towards the door at the side of the counter. Standing up, I followed him. I felt the mysterious guy's gaze again, and I quickened my steps, feeling grateful as I got to the door. I turned my head and gave him one final look before walking inside. In the office, Manager Sam asked me more questions about my background and work experience. We discussed shifts, tasks, and pay. He told me how the cafe is owned by the Brown family, and he is in charge of the management. He gave me forms to fill and assisted in parts where I was confused. After spending an hour, we were finally finished. He told me I could begin immediately, and I readily agreed. We stepped out together then he showed me important bits around the cafe. After handing me over to Niki, he went back to his office. I glanced over to the mysterious guy's table, and he was gone. "I guess his work day has begun." I thought aloud. "Are you talking to me?" Niki asked, turning from the note she was writing on. "Oh no, just thinking loud," I responded quickly. Niki handed me the note she was writing on. In it was a list. "Manager Sam will ask about your performance at the end of the day."She spoke softly. "You said you already know how to make coffee?" I nodded, then she continued, "Alright. You would have to make a couple cups of different types to test your ability. Manager Sam will do the tasting. He is a coffee enthusiast." She said, smiling. I nodded, flashing her a smile too. The list had 6 items, and making coffee was number one. I was given three types to work on, and I immediately started working on them. Some appliances were high-tech gadgets and hard for me to comprehend. Niki, following me with her eyes, gave a small chuckle, then proceeded to help me understand them. We spent about 20 minutes learning about the operations before I began my test. All thanks to her detailed explanation, I was able to make the three coffees under the ten-minute mark. While Niki sent it off to the Manager's office, I studied the rest of the list. It includes; • cleaning, • learning prices, • tipping system, • customer service, • and shift arrangements. "This is going to be fun." I thought to myself.