I Unintentionally Became Her Kitten

Chapter 86: The Coffee Beans

I panicked a bit, and got down next to her to pull her hair back as she coughed a few more times.

She took a deep, ragged breath and leaned her forearms against the seat, looking more than a little exhausted. I got up to grab her a couple paper towels, dampened with some water from the sink and offered these to her.

“Thank you,” she said hoarsely and wiped around her mouth and lips a bit before leaning back and flushing the toilet. She watched the coffee-bile and water swirl down.

“I’m sorry,” I offered sympathetically and kneeled next to her again, resting my hand on her back.

She shook her head, eyes closed before scooting back against the wall and pulling her knees in close and burying her face against them. I recognized this pose immediately. I’d done it before.

I didn’t know if I should hold her or not, but I at least moved to sit next to her and waited as she shook.

At least Matteo and Lili weren’t told when to expect us back so she had as much time as she needed, within reason, to calm down.

“I can’t…” she said finally, making me look up.

I rested my hand against her shoulder again, letting her know I was there and she picked her head up.

“I can’t keep doing this,” she finished. “I can’t do anything.” There was a mess of makeup on her face again, foundation and eyeliner getting smeared together while under her eyes was stained with mascara.

I looked at the floor, trying to think of what to say, but coming up blank. There was no way for me to really comfort her.

“I can’t protect anybody,” she continued. “I let myself turn into this beast and now even the people I care about aren’t safe from me.”

I rubbed her back now, understanding where this was coming from more clearly. “You’ve never hurt me,” I told her softly.

“But is that by chance?” she asked skeptically. “I haven’t had a reason to, but as soon as something happens that makes you a liability, won’t I do something stupid, because that’s the way it has to be and passing on this brutality is the only way to keep the peace.”

I shook my head. “I trust you, Alisha. I know you’ve done some bad things, but I also know you don’t want to. And you know I stay away from things that might make me a liability. Like yes, right now, I’m seeing you break down a little but you know I’ll never talk about this with anyone else.”

“But do I know that?” she asked and slowly leaned her face back against her knees again.

She had a point. There was never any way to be 100% certain someone wouldn’t talk about stuff like this.

“Well,” I told her. “Even if there's no way to be certain, I’m still the person you trust the most right?” Otherwise she wouldn’t even admit that to me.

She nodded. “I love you,” she said. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I love you too. And you know I don’t want anything to happen to you either. I want you to be happy and I wish it would be simple enough to take you away from this business so you don’t have to deal with this bullshit anymore. But that’s just not how it works. Your mom knew that, too.”

Alisha’s eyes teared up again before she hid them from me. “I just need to do better. I need to be a better person or…something. But how do I deal with Nicos without either showing no mercy, or letting them do whatever the fuck they want to. This would’ve been avoided if I had just taken care of him way back when he was first an issue.”

“I don’t know. He might’ve already been talking with your mom at that point.”

She shook her head. “Years ago,” she clarified. “He had a sit down with the old family captains without informing me and they started to make restructuring plans for that half of the family. Without me.”

She said this in the exact tone of voice I would expect a teenage girl to complain about being uninvited to a friend's birthday party.

“I mean… what more of a red flag should I have seen,” she continued. “But I didn’t want to be a bitch so I let him take care of the old family. I shouldn’t’ve been lenient. I should've been the bad guy then. Angela wouldn’t have gotten dragged into this, at least. Even if more people hated me.”

I hesitated, unsure. “Its not good that your mom got dragged into this,” I agreed. “But she spent enough time in this family, she must’ve known what she was getting into. I think… if she saw the pain you were in now, she would understand.”

Alisha cracked again and went back to her tight ball, sobbing a bit here and there when she couldn’t keep it inside.

I wanted nothing more than to ease her pain but all I could do was sit with her as her emotions processed.

When she uncurled again, she got herself up on shaky legs and went to the sink to start cleaning the mess off her face. She didn’t have all of her makeup in her purse, but she reapplied some foundation to help hide how bad her eye makeup was.

And then she returned to business Alisha, with the neutralist of expressions she held for a long minute before sighing and leaning her full weight against the sink.

“We should get going,” she said, then scooped some sink water to her mouth to rinse away any lingering flavor or odor.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” I asked.

“As much as I can be,” she said miserably. “I need to go see some captains… and you said we needed coffee…”

I hesitated to suggest it but I felt like she could use some more time before facing anybody that Nico had considered his allies. “Do you want to get coffee first?” I asked. “Or, go to a cafe so you can maybe get something to help settle your stomach?” It was getting to be around noon, so it wouldn’t be the craziest thing for us to get lunch.

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” She took another moment to double check her appearance and took a breath to even out her facial expression. 

Then we went down another floor in the elevator to find Matteo and Lili patiently waiting right where we’d left them. Neither one of them made any note of Alisha behaving differently. Surely, Matteo knew her well enough by now that he would recognize her complete indifference as a facade, but he let her be. They accompanied us to the car and Alisha gave Matteo a few instructions before he started to drive off again. I glanced at Lili before scooting a bit closer to Alisha and resting my head against her shoulder. She didn’t react much but her hand, resting on my leg, gently squeezed appreciatively before going limp again.

Matteo pulled the Escapade over on a nondescript city block with brick buildings tightly squashed together. On the lower floors were businesses including a cafe called “On the Grind” which had every dressing of a small business. There was an hours sign in black and white with the times written with permanent marker and the standardized open sign on the front door. Matteo gave Lili an order and she nodded. Then he let Alisha and I out before opening the cafe door for us. We entered. It was dim lighting inside and warm natural wood counters and tables. The vibe was unfussy, the baristas in aprons but otherwise having no uniforms.

Alisha approached the counter, and as usual Matteo hung back observing from a distance.

“Would you like anything to eat?” she asked me.

I shook my head. “But a hot chocolate would be nice.”

She nodded. A barista approached and flashed her a genuine smile. He was young, with a bit of a neck beard but it was clear he recognized her.

“Plain latte with almond milk?” he guessed.

“Not today,” Alisha informed him gently. “I’d like a tropical smoothie, please. And my companion would like a hot chocolate.”

“Sure thing,” the barista agreed and turned to start putting ingredients in a blender.

I looked around the cafe some more and spotted a large machine that looked suitable for a steampunk setting.

“That's the roasting machine,” Alisha explained, following my gaze.

“Oh, they roast their own coffee?” I asked.

She nodded. “And they do a good job. That’s why it tastes so good.”

“I assumed the coffee you got was always super expensive,” I said. The prices listed here were very standard, five dollars for fancier drinks, three dollars for a black coffee, and fifteen dollars for twelve ounces of coffee beans.

“It’s a quality product. The man who does the beans cares about his work. I think the reason people think that nice things have to be expensive is because it's hard to get people to care about their work without the promise of financial gain. In my experience though, expensive coffee beans that everybody raves about all taste pretty blunt.”

I nodded. “And the ones here have a soft complexity,” I agreed. “They take their time with them.”

“Mm. Everyone’s always obsessing about the ‘crisp fruity notes’ and ‘chocolately undertones’ but I want my coffee to taste like coffee. Just good coffee.”

That did sound ideal. “I think I’ll get some of theirs for Sophia for her birthday or Christmas or something eventually.”

She gave me a soft, almost sad, smile that emphasized the smudgy darkness under her eyes. She was always so tired, no matter how well she hid it.

I leaned against her affectionately until the barista came back with our drinks and she requested the ground coffee as well and paid, dropping a solid fifty dollar bill in the tip jar. An action I saw more than one barista notice. I also noticed her smoothie was overfilled and my hot chocolate was rich and dark and the bag of coffee could barely close.

They knew Alisha here and so desperately wanted her to keep coming.

We sat down with our drinks. Matteo was at a separate table, watching over us as she stirred the straw around thoughtfully.

I took a sip of hot chocolate, finding it scalding and decided to wait a minute.

“So uh…” I decided to ask. “Do you know what the tipping standard is?”

She shrugged. “It's based on satisfaction. If you're happy you leave more.”

“It's twenty percent,” I said a bit bluntly. “At a restaurant with table service. Places like cafes and the like it's anywhere between nothing and probably ten percent.”

I saw the numbers crunch in her head. “I left a really big tip,” she realized. She finally took a small sip of her smoothie before leaning a bit closer to me. “Is that rude?” she asked.

“No, it's considered generous. If you were really dramatic about it, it'd be snooty but slipping a large tip into their jar like that isn't particularly obnoxious.”

“I see,” she followed. “I thought it was just some amount that felt fair to you.”

“If I was a barista and someone gave me a fifty dollar tip, I'd be pretty happy.” It was enough to buy a decent pair of work-shoes with. “I've noticed people tend to recognize you when we walk into places. I'm assuming that's because they know you'll leave a good tip.”

She nodded. “I see.”

We sat quietly for much of the time. I gently rested my foot against her leg. She was still rattled, a bit too quiet and controlled, but she wasn’t nearly as distraught as before. When she was ready, she took the remainder of her smoothie with her. I’d already finished my hot chocolate so there wasn’t any concern about that. Then we headed out with Matteo close behind.