Welcome to Fae Cafe (High Court of the Coffee Bean Book 1)
Welcome to Fae Cafe: Chapter 8

Wind howled through the night, and thunder boomed over the city.

Kate awoke with a start. Lingering traces of bad memories mixed with the present sounds of pounding rain.

Her clock showed ten past midnight. The apartment was frigid, and she realized the window had unclasped during the night. It hung open an inch, squeaking on its hinges. Rainwater soaked her dresser below the sill.

She rubbed her eyes and placed a hand over her thudding heart, climbing out of bed to seal the window shut. She grabbed two novels from her nightstand, pulled a thick blanket off the shelf, and headed to the drawer in the kitchen for her flashlight.

The kettle whistled as loud as the thunder minutes later. Kate poured boiling water into her favourite mug, twisting the string of the tea bag as the windows lit up with a flash of lightning.

She braced for the thunder that would follow.

Her bones became clattering instruments, her blood rushing through her veins as the sound cracked over her apartment, rumbling the floor below her. She couldn’t bring her feet to move until the thunder died away.

When the noise became an echo in the distance, she crept to collect her blanket, flashlight, and tea, and she went to the coat closet beside the pantry. She crawled inside and sat on the pillow she left there, closing the door quietly behind her. When the flashes of light were blocked and the noise was muted, she felt like she could take in a full breath again.

It was on nights like tonight that Kate felt she was a child. She was still that little girl hiding in the backseat of a car. She was still laying in that hospital bed, confused about where everybody was. She still liked popsicles and ice cream and wanted to read picture books about dragons past her bedtime.

It was on nights like tonight that Kate wondered if she was still stuck in that day, and if everything in her life since that point had only been a dream.

Kate organized her blanket over her legs, clicked on her flashlight, flipped open her book, and got lost in the novel about a boy who could speak with dragons. He became the Dragon King. He led dragon armies, and he spared the dragons from disaster.

During the long hours of the night, Kate read by flashlight beneath the blanket, whispering the words of the story out loud and scribbling notes in the margins of the pages. She made it through the entire book from cover to cover before dawn. She moved on to the next one just as the wind went quiet and hazy white sunlight peeked below the closet door.

Kate cracked the door open and peered out with tired eyes. Glittering morning light rolled over her apartment floor like a carpet inviting her out. She tossed the blanket and books ahead of her and crawled into the kitchen, moaning at the ache in her legs. She went to the window first. All traces of the storm had vanished from the sky, leaving a milky blue horizon speckled with cottony clouds.

The redhead girl was nowhere to be seen across the street. A young man with tanned skin and a bun of dark curly hair ate breakfast at the diner. A hoodie peeked from beneath his jean jacket. Kate watched the eggs on his plate disappear until someone sat down across from him and cut off her view.

The morning was quiet as Kate headed downstairs and filled the café with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Tales of dragons lingered in her mind, but they faded away as reality set back in, leaving her with holes in her own story and unanswered questions.

She finished sanding the counter and dragged over a can of deep green paint. She swept and mopped the floors until they sparkled, then hung the artwork she and Lily had picked out from the thrift store last week. Last, she dusted off the old fireplace in the corner now that it had passed inspection.

Heavy boxes rested by the front door in a pyramid. The two largest paintings leaned against the wall, waiting for Lily to replace time to help Kate lift them. The rest of the mugs had to be unpacked, and the windows still needed to be washed.

Kate kept herself from thinking about mean smiles and old women knitting for as long as she could. But when noon arrived, and the floors were clean, and the counter was painted, and the coffee was gone, Kate folded her arms and shouted, “What do you mean, ‘the fae Prince has come to kill you’?!”

Lily burst through the café door in jeans and a hoodie, and Kate jumped. “Are you crazy?!” Lily accused, waving her phone in the air. “What’s wrong with you?”

For the first time since before knitting club, Kate realized she was supposed to meet Lily here yesterday.

“Why have you been sending me all these crazy texts?!” Lily shouted again, and Kate’s brows furrowed as she took Lily’s phone.

A conversation filled the screen:

1:30pm: Lily: Where are you? I’ve been waiting here for like thirty minutes.

1:45pm: Kate: Kate is unfortunately occupied and cannot make your very important appointment. Apologies, impatient human.

1:47pm: Lily: Are you trying to be funny?

1:50pm: Kate: Very.

1:55pm: Lily: Get over here so we can talk. I want to go to bed.

2:15pm: Kate: A human sleeping in the middle of the day? How odd. And how unproductive.

2:17pm: Lily: Seriously, Kate, I was on shift all night and this morning. Can you just get here?

2:45pm: Kate: Kate Kole doesn’t know how to knit. Perhaps you should teach her before you go to bed.

2:48pm: Lily: Seriously, Kate?

3:35pm: Kate: I’m quite serious. Perhaps if she followed the ways of the yarn, she might understand a few things.

3:38pm: Lily: I’m going to bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

4:50pm: Kate: Kate Kole might not live until tomorrow.

4:51pm: Lily: Where are you?

6:59pm: Kate: Tell Kate to remember what Freida said.

7:01pm: Lily: Who is this?

9:03pm: Kate: Only fools give real names.

Kate dragged a hand through her hair, making it stand on end. She wanted to march back to the Yarn & Stitch and toss a brick through the window. “Crazy old ladies,” she muttered.

“Does some weirdo have your phone?” Lily demanded.

Kate handed the phone back with a nod. “Looks like it.”

“This isn’t funny. You told me you had something to talk about and then this person said you might not live until tomorrow. That’s not a joke to me, Kate.” Lily put her hands on her hips. “I’ve seen a lot of bad things happen in my line of work. I didn’t sleep all afternoon yesterday over this, and your apartment was still empty when I came back and checked!”

“I was busy,” Kate said, remembering the hours she spent searching the streets for the knitting club after they dispersed. She’d walked to Grandma Lewis’s house after. It had been late when Kate finally came back to her apartment.

When a heavy pause took up too much space, Kate shifted her footing and nodded to the wall art. “What do you think?”

Lily glared for a moment—assuring Kate the conversation wasn’t over. But her eyes darted around the café for the first time. “You did all this today?” She did a full turn, taking in the green counter. “I like it. How long until we can open and get your buddy Ben off our backs?” Her face was still hard. “We need to hire some help,” she added.

“We have no money left to hire help.”

“If we want this place to stay alive during its first month, we don’t have a choice. And no carefree high school students—we need hard working people who have time to be here, you know?”

Kate nodded. “I’ll take care of replaceing some workers. I’ll add it to my to-do list,” she promised. She drummed her fingers along the counter, waiting for Lily to bring up Kate’s flaky day yesterday again.

Lily folded her arms. “Don’t you have another class this morning?” she asked.

“I want to quit university,” Kate said.

“What?”

Kate pointed to the shelf behind the counter. “I’ll publish my novels instead. I’ll fill those shelves with one-of-a-kind books that people can only read while they’re here. It’ll be a great draw in for business.”

“You want to live off your books?” It was a monotone question. “I’ve always been in support of you publishing your stories someday, Kate. But don’t you think you’ve become a little too attached to your pen name? It’s like you’ve forgotten it’s not your real name. And now you want to quit university?”

Kate glanced off as her mind filled with an old woman’s voice, “Don’t be afraid of using a real name.” She shook the thought from her mind.

“I’m not going back to being Katherine Lewis. People are finally treating me normally,” she said.

Lily ran a hand over her neat bun. “I’m working hard to get my hours in so I can take some time off when we open this place. I’m going in to do paperwork this afternoon now that I know you’re fine, so we’ll talk later. But you’re freaking me out.” She reached for the door. Cool air rushed into the café when she held it open. “I’m only working a half-shift today. I’ll come back later after I’m done. Show up this time.”

Kate nodded.

“And you’re still planning to come to the department fundraiser with me next week, right?” Lily added. “I know you’ve got some things going on right now, but please, for the love of all that’s good in this world, don’t make me go there alone with Connor.”

It was all she said before letting the café door fall shut behind her. Kate watched Lily cross the sidewalk to where Connor waited in the patrol car.

After the car rolled away, Kate released a heavy breath and began to pace.

The Yarn & Stitch store was closed that afternoon. Kate glared at it for the better part of an hour before she finally pulled out her invitation and scribbled on the back with a pen:

To whoever stole my phone:

Please return it to the storefront on Hanes Street with the purple awning.

Kate Kole

She stuffed it into the narrow crack beneath the door.

Downtown was busy and loud, filled with the scents of crisp air and car pollution. Kate passed the university buildings, retracing Professor Palmer’s steps. After only two wrong turns, she found the same skyscraper with the double glass doors. The doorman was different, but he cast her the same scowl as the first one had as she walked up to the keypad with the yellow button.

It buzzed when she pushed it.

A click sounded on the other side like someone answered, but only the sound of breathing came through.

“Hi, um… I’m looking for Freida Nightingale.” Kate scratched her head and looked both ways. She gave the glaring doorman an awkward nod.

A long pause followed from the speaker. Kate questioned whether the person was still there. She was a breath away from saying, “Hello?” when a voice came back.

“There’s no one by that name who works in this building.”

Click.

Unreal.

Kate’s jaw tightened. She walked over and smacked her palm against the side door. “Give me back my phone, Freida!” she shouted. But she reeled back when the doorman took a threatening step in her direction.

Kate raised her hands in apology and turned for the sidewalk.

The entire walk back to the café, her hands tightened into fists as she tried to decide what to do next. No one would believe a band of old fae women had stolen her phone. No one believed she killed a fae, either.

No one but Lily.

“If you tell any other humans about me, that human officer outside will die beside you.”

Kate moaned, knowing full well that despite any threat, it was time to bring Lily into this madness.

Lily came to the café in the evening. Over a steaming mug of freshly brewed coffee, Kate told Lily everything from the murder of the golden-eyed boy to the knitting club that stole her phone. She didn’t tell Lily about the fae Prince, or that he was impersonating Officer Riley.

Lily listened in silence. After a while, she said, “I believe you.” But Kate’s shoulders dropped.

The look on Lily’s face told Kate that she didn’t.

The next morning, a pamphlet was waiting on the café counter when Kate came down. It listed options for reputable adult therapy. Kate sighed and stuffed it in the garbage on her way to the counter. She made a set of lattes with rigid movements and spilled a puddle of hot milk on the floor. After sliding the lattes into a tray, she grabbed a new cozy mystery novel from the bookshelf she was saving for a rainy day and tucked it under her arm.

Before heading to the university to replace Professor Palmer, she set a hot caramel latte outside the rusted apartment door across the street where she knew the redhead would come out in exactly two minutes. She didn’t knock or leave a note.