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Emily Wren drove through the intersection, idly hoping that there was a parking space available. The Starbucks that she frequented was not only well liked by her, it seemed to be popular with everyone else. She wanted to sit inside and enjoy her coffee.
From the angry look of the clouds overhead, it was getting ready to rain. She rounded the curb, there -- less than 100 yards away was one spot vacant near the front door.
Oh no, there it goes, she thought, wrinkling her nose with disdain.
A shiny red BMW turned into the lot ahead of her. The owner of the Bimmer didn’t park though, instead heading around the backside of the building to place an order at the drive-thru.
Emily pulled into the lone free spot.
Climbing out of the car, silently thanking the parking fairy for her good luck, she walked inside.
The barista with dreadlocks behind the counter recognized her and smiled. Her teeth reminded Emily of a junior high school dance. Boys on one side of the gym, girls on the other...big gap in the middle. Emily felt the corners of her own lips tugging upward with lightness at the thought.
"The usual?" the gap-toothed smile asked.
"I know, I'm too predictable."
The barista swiped Emily's Starbucks card -- a Christmas present from her boss. He was a generous guy and had made sure that every gazette employee got gift cards that they'd actually use. She held the card out over the register, Emily put it back in her wallet.
“Here miss.”
A male barista with a beard handed her a pink paper bag with a slice of banana bread inside before Emily took another step. He must be new, she thought.
Thanking him, she opened the bag sniffing appreciatively.
Emily was an excellent cook and loved to bake. Talented as she was in the kitchen, she couldn't quite mimic their bread. At least not yet. One day, she mused sardonically.
She surveyed the interior and decided to sit in the leather chairs by the window to watch the storm approach. Dropping her backpack on the seat with a slight plop, she sat the snack bag on the small side table next to a pair of sunglasses.
Glancing from side to side she looked for the owner. The three other chairs in the corner were empty.
“Hmmm,” she mused.
Several people were on their feet at the counter and at the condiments booth stirring something in their cups, maybe one of them was the owner. None appeared to be concerned with her actions, so she decided not to worry about it. Taking off her tan, leather jacket, she laid it on the top of the chair.
She'd brought her laptop, like everybody else, to take advantage of the free WiFi and plugged in the power cord to charge the battery.
The barista still had a bit of a backlog.
"I'll be right back," Emily said to the girl behind the espresso machine, darting across the store to the bathrooms. As she passed by the register near the front door, there was the unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle pulling into the parking lot. It was loud.