Three Days in Town, and the Barista Already Knew My Order novel · Chapter 12 of 24
Chapter 12: The First Cup
The Stovepipe was dark at five on Saturday morning, except for the bar of orange light under the kitchen door.
The front door was unlocked.
I went in and the bells rang, and the whole building smelled of the first bread.
"Over here," said Yvonne.
She was at the register in her flour apron and her slippers.
Her silver hair was in its bun and her glasses were pushed up on her head.
She did not say good morning.
She reached up to the shelf above the register, where she kept the receipt rolls and a framed photograph of a man on a roof.
She took down a paper cup.
It was the same large size I drank every day.
The lid was taped on with masking tape that had gone yellow, and the cardboard sleeve was creased and soft from years of being handled.
She set it on the counter in front of me.
"Read," she said.
In black marker, in small square capitals I knew by now better than my own handwriting, it said: The hill road ices first. Go slow.
"That's Monday's note," I said. "He wrote it again on Monday."
"He wrote it first on Sunday."
The rest of this chapter is part of the paid portion of the series. Chapters 1–6 of Three Days in Town, and the Barista Already Knew My Order are free to read — start from the beginning, then unlock the rest with coins in the app.
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