Page 124 of A Taste of Vanilla

Warren continues, since he apparently doesn’t understand that the compliment needs three business days to process. “Your customer relationships are strong. The front-of-house atmosphere is warm, and your specials are distinctive. The visual branding is memorable, and your ideas are…” he pauses, his gaze flickering to the chalkboard where the Legacy Latte still sits in all its spiteful glory. “Endless,” he finishes.

I blink.

“Is that good or bad?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s both. But your production schedule is a crime against time management.”

I gasp.

Warren looks genuinely confused by my reaction.

“It is,” he says. “It’s written in three marker colors, two pencils, and what appears to be lipstick.”

“That was one time.”

“It was this morning.”

“I couldn’t find a pen.”

Warren lifts his pen.

“Do not offer me your sexy efficiency pen.”

Oliver turns to the wall Blair Witch-style while Marley chokes.

Warren’s gaze zeroes in on me.

Oh no. No. No, no, no.

“Professional efficiency pen,” I correct.

Oliver’s head shakes. “Too late, my guy.”

“Sexy efficiency pen,” Marley whispers.

I whisper, “Do not repeat it.”

“I’m going to be repeating that for the rest of our lives,” she says.

Warren’s mouth does that almost-smile again.

“I need you two to leave.”

Marley and Oliver both look at me, offended.

“Fine.” Oliver heads for the door. “I’ll go pretend to work in my own building. But I’m leaving the door open, because whatever this is will either need supervision or a witness.”

“There is nothis.”

Marley, Oliver, and Warren all look at me.

I pick up the whisk again.

“Okay, I’m going.” Oliver puts his hands up as he goes.