Coffee & Crime – Chapter 1 [Female POV] [F/M]

When Lisa dealt with the last customer in line, she let out a sigh of relief. Working at a New York Starbucks wasn’t fun, but it was better than her old Georgia home. At least nobody yelled racial slurs at her these days. She could tolerate the “coffee colored skin” jokes from her college friends.

She slumped forward while sitting on her stool and peeked out the window. The Starbucks across the street didn’t look terribly busy either. There was always a slump in customers between breakfast and lunch, and today was no exception.

Her coworker Amy was handling the two drinks in the queue, so Lisa had nothing to do while she waited for more customers. She was about to pull out her phone when a customer walked inside.

This tall, suave businessman was six feet tall, same as Lisa, and it only took seconds for her to notice his watch. He was wearing a real Breitling Navitimer 01 Limited, a brilliant black, gold, and silver watch that cost about as much as two years of tuition.

He finally made it to the counter.

“Howdy! Can I get one of those large pumpkin spices?”

My Masseuse – Chapter 1 [Female POV] [F/M]

My eyes burrowed into the stack of dishes that loomed over the stainless-steel depths of the kitchen sink; yet another stale routine in the humdrum clutches of my suburban life. I exhaled softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I pulled a pair of rubber gloves tightly over my hands, a false smile forming bravely upon my lips as I attacked the leftovers that stubbornly clung to the porcelain plates.

I had it all; a lovely home in a quaint suburban neighbourhood, a caring husband, and two loving children. Yet despite all of this, I had been unable to shake the feeling that I was a little trapped in my routines of late. It had been a feeling that had taken its roots in my subconscious several years ago, and one that I had not been able to shake since.

A clatter of dishes brought me back to reality as a bowl fell through my grip and toppled onto the granite worktop beside me.

“Are you okay?” Came my husband’s gentle voice.

I must have hesitated, lost in my own world, for his voice repeated his words a second time with a hint of concern.